Bullhead City. But he started to get weird.”
“Weird how?” Sean looked positively evil now.
“He kept talking about how we should pull over and sleep somewhere. So when he stopped here for gas I ran into the restaurant.”
Henry looked around the room. “Is he still here?”
“No. He came in looking for me, but I was in here talking to the cook and the waitress, so he left. I found out there’s a bus that comes through here at six in the morning and goes to Flagstaff. From there I can get a bus to Phoenix.”
“No more hitch-hiking,” Sean grunted.
“No. My lesson is learned. Hitch-hiking in Yellowstone usually results in getting picked up by a family or a bunch of granola hippies. I was naïve. I’ll take the bus to Phoenix and buy a car there. That was my plan anyway.”
Both men had cleaned their plates and they both sat back in their chairs in almost identical poses. They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Better idea,” Henry said finally. “Why don’t you ride with us to Phoenix.”
I was momentarily stunned by this offer, so I didn’t speak. Neither did they. The moment drew out and the waitress brought the check, refilled our coffee cups and left again, before I finally found my voice.
“How exactly is that safer?” I asked.
“Are you kidding?” Henry said. “We’re two stand-up guys. We’re totally safe.”
I did believe this, though I didn’t have any reason to. And obviously, my judgment of late was in question after the ill-fated truck ride. But I believed that I was in fact safe with these two men. Despite Henry’s assertions to the contrary, I was certain that neither of them was attracted to me. They had a busload of groupies and I was a skinny, awkward park ranger with flat brown hair and no sense of style. And despite his terrifying appearance, I was pretty sure that Sean was the protector-type. He loomed like a brick wall between me and trouble. Was riding in their fancy bus any worse than riding on a dirty Greyhound with god-knows-who at the crack of dawn?
But I wasn’t going to give in easily. I leaned back in my chair, mimicking their casual pose. “How do I know you won’t kidnap me and make me your slave? Perhaps you need a maid to pick up after you on the bus?”
Instead of laughing as I thought he would, Henry rolled his eyes.
“Why would you want a tagalong anyway?” I pressed.
“You’re entertaining,” Henry said with a grin.
I looked over at Sean. He was studying me. I raised a brow at him in a questioning gesture.
He shrugged. “You’re pretty damn cute, too.”
Sure, cute like a teddy bear.
I pointed my finger at Henry. “Okay, but just so we’re clear, you are not getting into my pants.”
Henry did laugh at this. “I can’t promise I won’t try to change your mind,” he said, as he grabbed the bill and rose from his seat.
2
The bus was really more of a giant motor home than an actual bus. I walked up three metal steps and came face to face with the driver, Tony. He sat in a little alcove in the front. He was a large man, with an even larger, cushy-looking seat. Everything he might need on a long journey was piled within his reach on the dash board or the floor beside him – cigarettes and an overflowing ashtray, a cup holder with three slots, all filled with extra large thermal mugs, a pair of bright blue sunglasses, maps, guidebooks, and a GPS system the size of an iPad.
After I was introduced to Tony, I found myself standing at the head of a long aisle that went down the middle of the bus. To my left was a booth with two fluffy bench seats facing each other with a long, thin table that ran between them. Behind that was a kitchenette with a sink, microwave, and cupboards. To my right was a pale green sofa that faced the booth across the aisle.
Across from the kitchenette was another fluffy sofa, this one dark red. An acoustic guitar rested beside it on a metal stand that was bolted to the wall. All along the
“Weird how?” Sean looked positively evil now.
“He kept talking about how we should pull over and sleep somewhere. So when he stopped here for gas I ran into the restaurant.”
Henry looked around the room. “Is he still here?”
“No. He came in looking for me, but I was in here talking to the cook and the waitress, so he left. I found out there’s a bus that comes through here at six in the morning and goes to Flagstaff. From there I can get a bus to Phoenix.”
“No more hitch-hiking,” Sean grunted.
“No. My lesson is learned. Hitch-hiking in Yellowstone usually results in getting picked up by a family or a bunch of granola hippies. I was naïve. I’ll take the bus to Phoenix and buy a car there. That was my plan anyway.”
Both men had cleaned their plates and they both sat back in their chairs in almost identical poses. They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Better idea,” Henry said finally. “Why don’t you ride with us to Phoenix.”
I was momentarily stunned by this offer, so I didn’t speak. Neither did they. The moment drew out and the waitress brought the check, refilled our coffee cups and left again, before I finally found my voice.
“How exactly is that safer?” I asked.
“Are you kidding?” Henry said. “We’re two stand-up guys. We’re totally safe.”
I did believe this, though I didn’t have any reason to. And obviously, my judgment of late was in question after the ill-fated truck ride. But I believed that I was in fact safe with these two men. Despite Henry’s assertions to the contrary, I was certain that neither of them was attracted to me. They had a busload of groupies and I was a skinny, awkward park ranger with flat brown hair and no sense of style. And despite his terrifying appearance, I was pretty sure that Sean was the protector-type. He loomed like a brick wall between me and trouble. Was riding in their fancy bus any worse than riding on a dirty Greyhound with god-knows-who at the crack of dawn?
But I wasn’t going to give in easily. I leaned back in my chair, mimicking their casual pose. “How do I know you won’t kidnap me and make me your slave? Perhaps you need a maid to pick up after you on the bus?”
Instead of laughing as I thought he would, Henry rolled his eyes.
“Why would you want a tagalong anyway?” I pressed.
“You’re entertaining,” Henry said with a grin.
I looked over at Sean. He was studying me. I raised a brow at him in a questioning gesture.
He shrugged. “You’re pretty damn cute, too.”
Sure, cute like a teddy bear.
I pointed my finger at Henry. “Okay, but just so we’re clear, you are not getting into my pants.”
Henry did laugh at this. “I can’t promise I won’t try to change your mind,” he said, as he grabbed the bill and rose from his seat.
2
The bus was really more of a giant motor home than an actual bus. I walked up three metal steps and came face to face with the driver, Tony. He sat in a little alcove in the front. He was a large man, with an even larger, cushy-looking seat. Everything he might need on a long journey was piled within his reach on the dash board or the floor beside him – cigarettes and an overflowing ashtray, a cup holder with three slots, all filled with extra large thermal mugs, a pair of bright blue sunglasses, maps, guidebooks, and a GPS system the size of an iPad.
After I was introduced to Tony, I found myself standing at the head of a long aisle that went down the middle of the bus. To my left was a booth with two fluffy bench seats facing each other with a long, thin table that ran between them. Behind that was a kitchenette with a sink, microwave, and cupboards. To my right was a pale green sofa that faced the booth across the aisle.
Across from the kitchenette was another fluffy sofa, this one dark red. An acoustic guitar rested beside it on a metal stand that was bolted to the wall. All along the
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