The creek would take them to the path which led to his own cabin—not that he ever let the guests hike up that far, but he knew all the nice, romantic spots for something like this. A canopy of trees and a kaleidoscope of butterflies were usually near enough to make an appearance, even in inclement weather.
He’d get them on their way before the rain hit, and then…
And then it would be over.
His job would be done—it would be over, he would be free, and his life could begin. Or end, considering his age, though he tried not to think of his life as close to over. Fifties were the new thirty—or some stupid rubbish he’d read on a Facebook post his sister-in-law had shared.
He breathed out an unexpected wave of anxiety and loss. It hadn’t even been his for long, and it certainly hadn’t been what he’d envisioned for his dad all those years ago. But he had photos showing his dad in boats with guests, grinning bigger than he ever had, and he knew at one point, it had been good. At one point, this brought his dad joy. And of course, he’d missed all of that.
He’d missed the years he had as an adult to enjoy his dad’s life and adventures, and had shown up only a handful of hours before he’d taken his last breath. It was a tough thing to live with, but in a way, he was letting the final tour be his closure.
Whatever came next, he just wanted to know it would make his old man proud.
The sound of a car pulling up, the faint beep of a key fob alarm, took him out of his head. It was time to get started, and he knew he couldn’t procrastinate any longer. Taking a breath, he turned on his heel and prepared to start his very last day.
Chapter 2
Spencer and the two bears
Spencer glared at the phone. Even though he wasn’t on video chat, he could imagine his perfect pout giving Dillon the guilt trip of a lifetime. “Come on, Dillon. I spent six hours testing bug sprays for this trip. I spent days looking for boots. You can’t back out on me. I need you there.”
“Just cancel, go to a spa, take some pictures of yourself near some trees, and no one will be the wiser.”
“Dillon, come on. You know I can’t do that. And you and Harrison were supposed to go with me. But Harrison busted his foot and you had to go and get a stupid job.”
“Hey, it’s a stupid dream job that I almost didn’t get, that they didn’t want to give me, but they were between a rock and a hard place. So now I’ve got to go in there and fake it until I make it.”
“How many times did you practice that in front of the mirror?” Spencer eyed the pile of gear he’d set out to pack and sighed. The trip was two days, one night. Through some trees. Up a trail or whatever. To the campsite, then down the rapids, and at the end of the road, there would be goats. Though Spencer loved goats, he couldn’t have them in the city. He could, however, have as many cats as he chose to, and right now his shelter housed thirty cats of various ages.
“Listen, just cancel. No one will blame you.”
Spencer swallowed his annoyance. The only reason he’d booked this ridiculous trip was the taunts and the teasing from his friends that he never did anything outside his comfort zone. The comments about the satin bed sheets on the California king-sized bed in the middle of his comfort zone had sealed the deal. That, and the goats.
“I’m going.”
“Spence… come on,” Dillon started to laugh and Spencer clenched his fists. “You’ll die out there.”
“I’m going. I have to pack.” Spencer hung up on Dillon and silenced his phone. So what if he liked being warm and dry, indoors, and away from bugs and animals that could kill him. That didn’t make him a joke. It didn’t matter that he’d picked this particular tour because it was only two days, as opposed to the five-day excursions he’d seen. The hikes weren’t anything he couldn’t manage, and he could deal with sleeping in a tent for a night. And then there was the promise of the painted goat. Spencer had never seen one before and he was beyond thrilled to get the chance. He’d even taken a photography class in preparation.
Fitting everything he’d purchased into his backpack proved to be impossible and Spencer eyed the checklist provided by the website. He had over-shopped a little, but he wanted to be adequately prepared. Spring was a fickle season and the weather could change in seconds, going from warm and sunny to impossibly cold and wet. There was no harm in being prepared, but in the end, Spencer stuck to the list, indulging only in a rain-proof tent, an extra bottle of bug spray, and an extra battery for his camera.
Spencer packed an extra bag; he’d be staying at a hotel near the tour company the night before the trip and he’d planned to spend the night there after the tour was over. The drive to the Bimisi River preserve took five hours, and there was no way he wanted to tackle that after camping all night and hiking all day.
Five hours in the car all by himself didn’t sound great at first, but when he realized he could listen to Celine on repeat and sing at the top of his lungs with no one to complain, it soon softened his opinion of solo road trips. It didn’t hurt that his new Prius was a dream to drive, and being out of the city had its appeal.
The day was unseasonably warm, and Spencer pulled up to a gas station with his windows rolled down. The sheer volume of his music turned a few heads and Spencer dialed it down, then rolled his windows up.
He strolled into the gas station and grabbed a bottle of apple juice, then pulled out a five dollar bill at the register. “Where’s the Bimisi River Inn?”
“Straight down the road. It’s the first right after Carl’s.”
“What’s Carl’s?”
The cashier dropped a pile of change into his hand. “You can’t miss it. Did you need a receipt?”
“No, thank you. And thanks for the directions.”
Spencer climbed into his car and eased out back onto the road. Sure enough, Carl’s was impossible to miss. If you didn’t happen to see the gigantic sign, there was also the larger-than-life steer head on the roof of the building. Spencer made a mental note to take a picture before he left town.
The Bimisi River Inn was a far more subtle affair. In truth, as far as cheap motels went, it was charming. The flower boxes had some early spring blooms in them, and the grounds were lush and green and well kept. Spencer eased into a parking space and went inside to check in and get his room key.
His room turned out to be around the back, so Spencer drove to the other side of the building. The rear of the hotel was pressed up against the trees, and Spencer looked up at the rolling hills that surrounded him. He almost couldn’t believe that a place this majestic existed a mere five hours from the city.
The city air always felt sticky to Spencer. Like all the pollutants weighed it down and it clung to him. His hair. His skin. But out here, Spencer was surprised to find himself enjoying seeing so many trees in one location.
The scenery didn’t stop him from dropping his bags onto the loveseat that sat across from the queen-sized bed and pulling out his cell phone.
“They’re fine,” Martina answered. “I swear to God, you were here this morning. You’re on vacation, Spencer.”
“I had to check on my babies.” Spencer sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Is Burt still harassing Junior?” Spencer’s upbringing had afforded him many luxuries as a child, and his trust fund allowed him to do whatever he wanted as an adult. His passion was his cat sanctuary. He took cats in from all over the place. Some had been strays. Some were brought over from shelters who couldn’t find placements for them.