Total pages in book: 198
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
“In June?” I gasped.
That chin with its cute cleft dipped.
“Where?”
“Some of the peaks. Some passes.”
I was going to need to ask for specifics. Maybe later once I was walking out. “So hammock tents are no good?”
“Seem like a waste of money to me. I’d say get a tent instead and a good pad. But if someone’s got the money to throw away, go for it. Like I said, bears are curious. They’ll run, but after you each scare the hell out of each other.”
I really needed to get some bear spray. And never let my aunt find out about curious bears. She had started sending me texts about mountain lions now.
“What kind of bears are there?”
“Black bears, but they aren’t always that color. There’s a lot with brown and cinnamon fur around here.”
I swallowed. “Grizzlies?”
He blinked, and I think I might have seen part of his mouth quiver a little. “Not since the 70s.”
I didn’t mean to, but I whistled in relief, then laughed. “So tent hammocks are stupid unless you really want to use them and have the money to spend and are willing to put your life at risk. Got it.” I scribbled down part of it, even though I doubted I’d forget. “So tents . . .”
He sighed.
“Okay, we don’t have to talk about tents if you don’t want to. Where do you recommend going camping? If you wanted to see animals?”
Mr. Rhodes ran a hand through his short salt-and-brown-pepper hair once before crossing his arms over his wide chest again, bringing to attention the way his pecs were squeezed together on his lean chest.
How old was he?
“This is southwest Colorado. You can go camping in your backyard and see a fox.”
“But other than a backyard, where? Within an hour from here?”
His hand slid to his cheek, and he rubbed the short bristles there. I bet he had to shave twice a day—not that it was any of my business to wonder.
Mr. Rhodes went into a description of several marked trails close to water sources. He stopped to think a couple times, and a little notch formed between his eyebrows as he did. He was handsome.
And he was my landlord. A grumpy—or distrustful—one at that, who didn’t want me hanging around and was only being nice because I’d taken his son to the hospital. Well, there were worse ways to get to know people.
He suddenly said a name that made my hand pause over the paper.
“It’s not well marked, and it’s difficult, but if someone has experience, they can do it.”
A knot formed in my throat, and I had to glance down at my notebook as discomfort lanced me straight through my chest. A beautiful, perfect arrow with a jagged arrowhead.
“Need me to spell it out for you?” he asked when I hadn’t responded to him.
I pressed my lips together and shook my head before glancing up, focusing on his chin instead of his eyes. “No, I know how to spell it.” But I still didn’t write down the name. Instead, I asked, “And all the rest of these are close to water, you said?” That was exactly what he’d said, but it was the first thing I thought of to change the subject.
He didn’t want to hear about how well I knew that hike.
“Yes,” he confirmed, stretching the word out in a weird way.
I kept my attention down. “Do you and Amos go camping a lot?” I asked.
“No,” he answered, his attention a little too focused, that crease still there. “Amos isn’t into the outdoors.”
“Some people aren’t,” I said, even though it was a little funny that he lived in one of the most beautiful places on Earth and didn’t care for it. “So—”
“Why are you here?”
I froze, surprised he was curious. I wanted to glance at my watch—I really did have a lot of things I wanted to know—but if he was asking . . . well, I’d answer. “I used to live here as a kid, but I had to move away a long time ago. I . . . got a divorce and didn’t really have anywhere else to go, so I decided to come back.” I smiled at him and shrugged like everything that had happened was no big deal, when they had been the two biggest events of my life. They’d been the dynamite that restructured my entire existence.
“Denver is more most people’s style.”
“Most people, sure, but I don’t want to live in a city. My life was really hectic for a long time, and I like the slower pace. I forgot how much I love the outdoors. The clean air. My mom used to love it here. When I think about home, it’s here, even twenty years later,” I told him honestly. “I don’t know if I will end up staying forever, but I’d like to try. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. I just want to try my best in the meantime.” Which reminded me again that I needed to look for some other place to stay. I hadn’t had any luck searching so far, and part of me hoped someone would cancel their reservation at the last minute.