Better than me, if I had to run.
Shuffling my feet uncomfortably, I tried not to think about how fucked I really was. I didn't know this man, nor his intentions.
Nobody except Crawford knew I'd run off – and knowing how much of a bitter wimp he was, he wouldn't be coming to my rescue. I could only hold my ground, and hope to God this was just some eccentric mountain man wanting to make friendly conversation.
“Too noisy for me,” I lied. “I wanted to get away and enjoy the forest beauty while I'm up here. I don't get out to the Smokies as often as I'd like.”
His thin smile widened, and he took a step closer. I was about to bolt when he flopped down on the boulder next to me, spreading his arms wide, staring up at the sky.
“It's a gorgeous fucking night, ain't it? My name's Richard, by the way.” He tilted his head up and shot me a wink. He reached into his pocket.
I couldn't help but smile and feel a little more ease creep in when he drew out a small silver flask.
“Care for a swig? It's our very own moonshine. My grandpa's recipe.”
I shook my head. Okay, maybe he wasn't the danger I'd feared at first.
Just a big, drunken mountain goof. I hoped. I'd seen his type before out hiking, and they never did any harm.
Friendly or not, there was no way I'd share a flask with a stranger.
“Suit yourself, princess.” He popped the cap and took a long pull, then emptied the rest on the ground. “I was bullshitting you about the moonshine. It's just plain ol' Jack.”
“Decent choice. Do you come here often, or maybe live nearby?” I decided to make small talk, taking my place several rocks away, fixing my eyes on the same distant stares filling his eyes.
“I'm a hiker. Nothing builds a man up like a bull better than taking these mountains one step at a time. It's always an adventure up here. You ever see the abandoned ghost towns tucked back in these mountains? People worked and lived and died in these parts for generations before they flew the coop, leaving their homes and a few old tractors behind. There's something charming about that. It takes you back, away from all this shit in our lives, you know? Simpler times. I like 'em.”
I nodded glumly. Redneck or not, he was nice, and eerily in touch with my own feelings tonight.
Just then, I'd have given anything to get away from all my frustrations. Sure, I could hop a flight to Europe or the Caribbean next week, like I'd done on my summers off from college, but those getaways never lasted forever.
“Tell me more about your adventures again. Sometimes I think I could use some of that.”
He tucked the flask back in his pocket, then sat up and smiled. “I do a lot of trucking when I'm away from home. It's hell half the time, honestly, driving down the Florida panhandle or all the way out to Cali-fucking-fornia with some boss riding my ass. But there's always a new experience every route, and that's what keeps me working more than just the money. New faces, new things, new thrills. You haven't been living 'til you've been through Wyoming in the winter and almost felt the wind blow your rig over.”
“Sounds scary,” I said, warming up more than I really should. A lot of it was the alcohol, a delayed buzz in my veins, but his tone sounded so honest, authentic in a way all the rich boys and girls I always hung around with couldn't be.
“You'd better believe it. The shitty parts of LA will make you feel alive too, when some gangbanger decides to take potshots at your truck just for sport. It's funny how being on the open road and putting up with so much shit makes a man appreciate the quiet more.”
He stood up and walked out into the clearing, stretching toward the sky. I believed him.
“You said you don't come out here often? Well, hell, neither do I. And that's what makes me love it when I do. When you're busy dealing with crowded cities and traffic jams half the time like I am, these mountains are a slice of heaven. I wouldn't trade my adventures for nothing, even the shitty parts, because they make home what it is.” He turned, his eyes narrowed. “Don't tell me this is as wild as you get? Skipping out on your friends and looking like you're about to freak the second some stranger says 'hello?'”
Christ, was it really that obvious? I smiled uneasily, shaking my head.
“Sorry. I'm a little on edge tonight. Like I said, I don't come up here often. You never know what a strange man might want out in the boonies.”
“What if he just wants to give you a good time?” He paused, just long enough to feel my heart sink, while tension roiled my belly. “I'm not talking about fucking, girl.”
That caught me off guard. I twisted my head, stood up, creeping closer as he extended a hand.