account wasn't a pretty sight.
"I've plenty of room at my place."
"That's kind of you but I'm a little hesitant about accepting invites from people I've just met on the side of the road."
"I'm sorry." He held out his hand. "Will Riley. I own a place just up the road here. Ask anyone in town, they'll vouch for me."
"Nice to meet you, Will. My name's Bryn." I retrieved my car keys. "I appreciate the invitation and everything, but I'd better be on my way."
"As you wish." He smiled and pulled out a card from his wallet. "If you change your mind, give me a call. I'm not normally in the habit of asking strangers to camp on my land but with it being Fourth of July weekend, I'm kinda tempted to post a notice at my gate offering camping space."
"Probably not a bad idea." I glanced at the card and stuck it in my back pocket. I shook his hand and wondered why he seemed so interested in my business. "Thanks for the offer. It was nice to meet you."
Riley took a step back and touched the brim of his hat. His shirt lifted, tightening, for a moment, over a lean, muscled torso. "Keep hold of that card. You might need it."
"Thanks." I climbed back into the car and waved, wondering if I'd made a bad choice. Maybe he was being genuine. . Riley's warm brown eyes didn't seem to conceal a psycho. In fact, they hinted at a kind and interesting man. Not a bad-looking guy either, with long legs and I've always had a weakness for brown eyes. As I drove away, rain hit the windshield with heavy splats. The campsite by the lake seemed less of a desirable destination all of a sudden.
I ran through the rain into the store. I steered clear of the supermarket, which was packed with holiday weekend shoppers, and settled for a small mom-and-pop store. They'd be more likely to know of a good place to camp, being that Riley's prediction about the lake site was woefully true.
"Sorry, son." The elderly proprietor bagged my meager selection of groceries with slow, arthritic grace and shook his head. "You won't find much available this weekend. All of Phoenix heads up here for the Fourth."
Shit.
I pulled the card from my pocket. "Do you know this guy?"
The proprietor eyed the card. "Will Riley? Hell yeah. Why you asking?"
"He said I could camp on his land."
He peered through the plate glass window and squinted through thick glasses at the downpour. "His mother used to run a bed and breakfast out of the ranch. It's more than likely he'd put you up in the house. It's a big old place. He's an odd one. Lived here all his life. He's sound enough it's just no one really knows him. Keeps himself to himself. But he's a good guy. You needn't worry."
"Thanks. I'll give him a call." I took my groceries and returned to my car. I made the call, relieved I wouldn't be pitching my tent in the midst of a sea of trailers, RVs and noisy kids.
A belt of pine trees separated the Blue Fork Ranch from the road. The car bounced along the gravel track past open fields where horses grazed, unconcerned by the rain. The ranch was at the top of a small rise, a white clapboard two-storey house with a wrap- around porch, a barn and a couple of corrals. I parked the car next to the blue pick-up truck in front of the house. I turned off the engine, glad to hear an end to the relentless squeak of the wipers. A low rumble of thunder broke the sudden silence. I climbed out, grabbed my backpack and hurried onto the front porch.
Riley opened the screen door. "Hi, welcome."
"Thanks."
"Come on in."
I shouldered my bag and followed him into the house. I felt a bit stupid and foolish for ending up there when I should've taken him up on the invite in the first place. Sometimes it's good to take a leap in the dark. "Thanks for letting me stay. I guess you were right about the campsites."
"I usually am. So, who put your mind at rest about me?" He raised one eyebrow. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"The old guy from the little food market on Main."
"Ah, yes… Harry. I get all