And as she continued on her way, the potato fields on the south side of the Road to Nowhere gave way to a forest of primarily spruce, fir, hemlock, pine, and cedar trees. And Ginette felt so small next to them.

Ginette stopped and looked up at the trees—and felt a little claustrophobic. So she crossed the road so she could walk next to the potato fields on the other side of the Road to Nowhere, which made her feel a little less claustrophobic.

And then she heard the less robust yowl of another snowmobile engine coming from the same potato field that the last one had come from. And she turned and looked across the road and into the field and, sure enough, saw the headlights of another snowmobile not quite speeding across the open field.

Ginette figured it was Dave Bonenfant. And it was. He and Rhonda had been hanging out a lot lately.

And everyone in Almost was wondering if they were together or going out or something.

It was about 8:40 when Ginette made her way past the long driveway that led to Rhonda’s cabin. This was just about the time that Dave made his way into the woods on his sled in pursuit of Rhonda, and the same time that Rhonda emerged from the woods and into her backyard. Her arrival made a series of lights on her property flick on. The lights were triggered by motion sensors, which Rhonda had recently installed so she’d be able to keep an eye on the black bears that often got a little too close for comfort when they visited her beehives in the spring, summer, and fall.

Rhonda eased her Polaris sled up onto its storage pallet next to her garage and killed the engine. And then she dismounted the machine and took off her helmet. And then she covered the snowmobile with a blue tarp and secured it with a bungee cord to protect the machine from the elements.

But soon stopped. Because she thought she heard the sound of a snowmobile approaching.

And, as the sound got louder, there was no doubt that another snowmobile was approaching.

And she waited. And wondered who was coming.

And soon Dave Bonenfant emerged from the woods on his old Arctic Cat and into Rhonda’s backyard.

He pulled up to where Rhonda was standing.

And killed his engine.

And then took off his helmet and dismounted his sled.

“What’s up?” said Rhonda, hands on her hips, wondering what the heck Dave was doing at her house.

“Um, well—I just…” Dave was anxious and couldn’t seem to bring himself to tell Rhonda what was up. He seemed troubled.

“You okay?” asked Rhonda.

“Yeah. I just, uh … wanted to say…” Dave stopped breathing and realized that he didn’t quite know how to tell Rhonda what he had come all the way out to her house to do, so he told her something else—something he just wanted to make sure she knew: “That was just fun tonight.”