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Enough was plenty, and I had everything in life I’d been working toward for the last decade. If I minded my P’s and Q’s, maybe with an added dick now and then, what could possibly go wrong?

Imade good time to the wooden Magnolia State Park sign, stretching over the top of the entrance lanes. The old log cabin drive-thru ranger’s station had been there for as nearly as many decades as the original park sign. The state park kept the tiny office manned until three on Saturdays since most of the visitors started their day in nature in the mornings. After-hours check-ins were strictly by the honor system.

The sliding window opened, and a cheerful khaki-uniformed man leaned out. “Good morning, ma’am,” he said. “I’m Ranger Ellis. Looking for a day pass or something else?”

“Overnight camping, actually.”

“Do you need a map, or do you have a site in mind?”

“Number fifty-two,” I said, tugging a twenty from my center console where I kept about one hundred dollars in spare cash hidden, a tip my dad taught me. “One night, and three bundles of firewood.”

“Well, now that spot is a ways back there. You sure about that?” he asked. “It’ll be fifteen dollars per night whether you’re back there or up here, closer to the ranger’s station. It’s pretty deserted back there right now.”

“Same spot I always get.”

Dad’s favorite one. He didn’t like contending with crowds, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I handed him two twenties. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you.” He leaned down to look into my car. “Are you camping alone? We’ve had a mountain lionsighting in the last thirty days. It’s not been radio tagged yet, so the sighting hasn’t been confirmed.”

“I’ve got mace, and I carry a big stick.” Another couple of habits from my dad.

The park ranger grinned, nodded, and tugged a flyer from one of the slots by the drive-thru window. “Then you came prepared, but here are some tips about how to react if you spot one. Don’t sprint away the moment you see one or their predatory instincts might kick in. Remember, we lock the entrance gate at night, so no one else can drive into the park. However, the exit will always be open, so you can leave at any time. You just won’t be able to get back in.” He handed the flyer to me before grabbing a parking pass and marking it with his initials and the date. That came through my window also. “I put my cell number at the top. We make rounds at dusk, right before we lock the entrance, so let us know if you need anything.”

I held up my cell phone. “Well, I always have decent reception back there.”

“Very good. Have a great night.”

The window slid closed, and he reappeared to place my firewood in the back of my vehicle. After he closed the rear, he waved, and I pulled into the park. It would have been cheaper to purchase a yearly pass, but it was a little like the squeaky wheel on the crash cart at work. I never thought about doing something about it until I was in the middle of needing it.

The curvy drive to the back of the park brought a rush of nostalgia. As promised, most of the sites wereempty. The park would grow busier each weekend between now and Thanksgiving, another reason why camping out tonight had been preferable. Extra people wouldn’t keep me away, but I liked it better when I didn’t have to wait for a shower stall or a toilet.

A few diseased trees had been marked for removal, and the roads looked freshly striped. A new picnic table sat next to the parking pad for Site 52. Placing firewood in the fire ring was my first task so I wouldn’t have to do it after dark. Easier to avoid snakes and other creepy-crawlies in the light of the morning. It didn’t take long for me to fill the fire pit and form a small stack to the side. Making a hot supper would go easily once I lit the seasoned firewood.

After I downed a fresh bottle of water, I changed from my sandals into my wool socks and hiking boots before slinging my backpack over my shoulder. My tent could wait until I came back for the night. Besides, if I waited to set it up, other visitors wouldn’t be tempted to go through my things. My car chirped after I pressed the lock button twice.Extra lock-y.

Redbud Trail led through a shallow bayou to a waterfall overlook about four miles from Site 52, and it was the first stop on my outdoor agenda.

One hundred steps later, I stopped short. A depression in the moist soil caught my attention. A big cat had strolled through nearly along the same path I intended to take into the woods. They probably belonged to the mountain lion the ranger had mentioned. I bent down, pressing my fingers against the edges of it, appreciatingthe bigger version of Sully-Boy. Murder mittens and toe beans were some of my favorite parts of big cats.

I continued toward the falls. Long ago, some settler had engineered an artisan well from a spot where water bubbled under the topsoil, and the overflow from the spring cascaded down a low hill in a lovely waterfall. Redbud trees surrounded the water basin at the bottom of the waterfall, making a perfect place for a packed lunch and self-reflection.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled, but I chalked it up to the wind and the temperature change. Camping had been my private adventure for several years now, and besides the new tracks at my feet, I hadn’t seen anything like a bear or a mountain lion anywhere in the park. Raccoons were a nuisance when I left my food out at night, but trash pandas didn’t scare me. As a vet, I’d even thought about fostering and rehabilitating wild creatures. Not that I needed any extra work in my life, but it would give me a new goal to focus on, and Riley would be into it.

The feline cat prints coincided with my path for longer than I’d expected. When I began to expect the beast might show itself, the prints disappeared, and my worry dissolved.

Maybe it was a bit risky to continue with the rear portion of the park effectively empty, but non-risky behavior hadn’t been my forte.

Pretty muchever.

No way I intended to change my recipe for success now.

CHAPTER SIX

logan

Saturday Evening