Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
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 before plopping the rest of the cookie in my mouth and chewing it quickly. When I was done, I kept going. “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.
For a long time, I’d thought I was pretty damn lucky. My mom used to say all the time how lucky she was, for everything. Every occasion. Even when things went wrong.
She saw the best in everything. A flat tire? Maybe we would have gotten into an accident if we hadn’t stopped. Someone stole her wallet? They needed the money more, and at least she had a job and could make more! The highs with her had always been so high. Now, more often than not—and especially when I felt down—I felt more like I was cursed. Or maybe my mom had taken all my luck with her.
Mr. Rhodes stayed leaned back in his chair, lines back across his forehead, watching me. Still not in that way I mostly ignored from other people, but with that raccoon did-I-have-rabies-or-not face.
“Are you from here?” I asked, even though Clara had told me earlier.
All he said was “yes,” and I knew that was all I was going to get. Well, that wasn’t going to tell me how old he was. Oh well. Maybe I could ask her in some subtle, sneaky way.
“Back to camping then… do any of these places have fishing?”
* * *
“Time is up,” he said at eight o’clock on the dot, focusing on the top of his right hand, which was resting on the table.