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the motor home.” Erika strode across the parking lot, leaving Ragni with her mouth hanging open.

    Sometime later she slid back into her seat, glanced over at Erika, and shook her head. “Thanks.”
    Her earphones back in place, Erika didn’t bother answering. A few miles later, Ragni popped in an audio book,
The Secret Life of Bees.
Next time she looked over, Erika had her earphones around her neck and was listening to the book.
Could this be construed as a breakthrough?

    The sun was easing toward the western horizon when they drove past Dickinson. The road sign said Theodore Roosevelt National Park and Medora thirty-five miles ahead. Ragni exhaled a sigh of relief. They’d made it before dark.
    “Watch for the exit signs to Medora, would you please?” She glanced over to see if Erika heard her. The slight nod surprised her.
    “I read that people can sometimes see the wild horse herd in the park from the freeway, and the buffalo.”
    “Wild horses?” Erika sat up straighter. “How will we know when we are at the park?”
    Ragni wriggled driving tension out of her shoulders as she answered. “It must be fenced. They wouldn’t let animals like that wander loose. I mean, I’ve seen fences for pastures. These must be better.”
    “Are there really buffalo?”
    “That’s what the magazine said. We can ask at the hotel. Maybe we can make a trip through the park while we’re here. The Badlands are supposedly beautiful—strange shapes, lots of wild animals.”
    Erika shrugged, her universal response to all suggestions, it seemed.
    Ragni blinked to refresh her eyes and rolled her shoulders again.
I’m so tired of shrugs.
Eleven hours since they left Chicago. She’d never driven so far in one day in her life. Not that she’d been on many road trips since the family vacations of her youth, and back then her father drove. There was a big difference between driving and riding. Often she’d been reading, at least when she wasn’t fighting with Susan over who had her foot on the wrong side of the car and whose turn it was on the Etch A Sketch. Strange that they’d made no trips west. They’d been to Florida for Disney World; Washington DC for the history, government, and museums; Niagara Falls; and lots of camping trips along the shores of the Great Lakes and into northern Minnesota. Someday she’d get to Yellowstone.
    “Ragni, look!” Erika squealed.
    Ragni took her eyes off the road enough to catch a glimpse of a huge brown creature. “Was that what I thought it was?”
    “A buffalo. It had to be. Looked just like the ones I’ve seen in the movies. And that must be the fence you were talking about.”
    So the girl can still get excited about something.
The thought brought a smile to Ragni’s face.
    Not much later, she saw the exit to Medora. She followed the signs as they crossed over the freeway and drove a curving road down into the valley. Corrals with horses and signs for trail riding trips lined both sides of the pavement.
    “Watch for the Bunkhouse Motel.”
    “You didn’t tell me there were horses here.”
    “Who knew? We’ll get checked in and then go find a restaurant for dinner.” They passed the Badlands Motel on their right.
    “Turn left up there.” Erika pointed at the sign for the Bunkhouse Motel.
    “Thanks.” Ragni drove over the railroad tracks to follow the paved road to the Bunkhouse. Cliffs loomed to the north and west across the river, with rolling hills to the south. From what she could see, Medora wasn’t a large town, but a thrill had begun in her middle and radiated outward. She parked near the office and unsnapped her seat belt. They’d made it. Leg one of the so-called vacation accomplished. After slinging the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she stepped out of the car and headed toward the door, not bothering to see whether Erika was following her.
    “Just one night?” the clerk asked.
    Surely we’ll be ready for camping by tomorrow evening.
“Yes.” Whydid