Black Frog, page 21
Emma said nothing and sat rock still as Doug, smiling broadly now, looked pointedly at the chain around her neck. Whatever was on it was hidden underneath her sweater, and she made no movement toward showing Doug what she now carried with her wherever she went. After a long strained silence between them, Doug continued.
“Anyway, I thought I would tell you about our theory, since it might have involved your grandfather. But it’s only a theory. Anne wanted me to say that she is doing really well – her arm is healing quickly, although ball handling on that side will be awkward from here on. And she sends her best. We both are so grateful for the courage you showed up at Kineo.”
Doug stopped, smiled, looked up the lake at a floatplane coming into land, and asked his final question.
“Emma, how about another beer?”
About the Author
B.D. Smith was raised in Detroit, Michigan, and attended the University of Michigan where he received his undergraduate and graduate degrees in prehistoric archaeology. Before turning to writing fiction he authored numerous scholarly books and articles on the origins of agriculture and other topics. He and his wife live in Santa Fe in the winter and spend their summers in Bowerbank, Maine.
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B.D. Smith, Black Frog
