A few minutes later they were on the path that led back to Huey’s old pickup, walking side by side, Huey shoeless and with the rifle on a strap over his shoulder. At one point the path narrowed and they proceeded single file, Mrs. Plansky in the lead.

“Some guys,” he said, “don’t mind a lady with a … what would you call it? A considerable back end? I’m in that camp.”

“We all have our little peccadillos,” Mrs. Plansky said without turning, perhaps putting too much emphasis on “little.”