Reconsidering Riley Read Online Free Page A

of a mile
to the lodge required vigilance and a certain tolerance for dust.
It also required patience, Riley learned, since his grandfather was
hell-bent on resuming their argument.
    "It's only a five-day trip," Bud said as
though they'd never quit talking. "With a gaggle of that how-to
woman's groupies. To the lodge in Catsclaw Canyon. I can—"
    "I'm doing it. End of story."
    "Damn it, Riley! I said I'll—"
    "The publicist who booked the trip said
they'll need to stop frequently," Gwen chimed in, "to conduct some
sort of heartbreak workshops along the trail. You know you'll never
have the patience to settle for less than a twenty-miles-per-day
pace, Bud."
    His grandfather scowled. Jouncing along in
the back seat, Alexis perked up. "Heartbreak workshops?"
    Gwen nodded. "Yes. Apparently, that's why
the author came here. To test out her new theories in private."
    Riley shook his head. This just got
better and better . His unwanted group was slow, new to the back
country, fond of New Age mumbo jumbo, and dead-set on using
the quiet canyon trails to conduct open-air therapy sessions.
Whoever the heartbreak book's author was, she must be a real piece
of work.
    "What a bunch of hooey," he said beneath his
breath.
    Bud heard. "See? I knew you didn't
want to do it! I'll just get out my gear as soon as we get to the
lodge, and—"
    "I'll do it," Riley said quietly.
Firmly.
    Angling his head to loosen the tight muscles
in his neck and shoulders, he pondered his future. The sooner he
finished this trail guiding job and completed the rest of the
repairs he'd begun on the lodge, the sooner he could get back to
the life he loved.
    The vagabond's life.
    Riley had sometimes joked he was one part
interpreter, two parts Gypsy, and one part daredevil...but given
his upbringing, it really wasn't much of a joke. He'd had to become
all those things to survive. Now, though, he accepted and
appreciated the life he'd built. However willing he was to
temporarily help out his grandparents, his intentions remained
clear to him.
    He intended to see, to do, to conquer and to
enjoy. Not necessarily in that order.
    He'd only once been tempted to alter his
plans. To settle down, to toe off his boots and hang up his
rappelling ropes and sample life the way a rare few did...with
someone they cared about. But although the temptation had felt
nearly irresistible, the urge to stay had felt so alien that Riley
had—
    No point trampling over the past , he
reminded himself savagely, feeling a familiar—and unwanted—sense of
loss wash over him. It's over with .
    "You said the group's six women?" he asked,
taking refuge in the job to be done.
    Gwen nodded. Bud glared. "Hmmph."
    Riley knew his grandfather would understand.
Eventually. "Then I'll probably ask Mack and Bruce to come
along."
    On a typical guided adventure travel trip, a
traveler-to-guide ratio of three-to-one, or even four-to-one, would
have been perfectly acceptable. Higher ratios were safe so long as
the guides knew their jobs, and meant better profits, too. But the
Hideaway Lodge was firmly in the black, and Riley wasn't leading
this trip for the money, anyway. In the midst of the "how-to
junkies 'do' the wilderness" craziness, a couple of extra guides
would help keep him sane. If a shortfall arose because of his
decision, he'd make up the difference himself.
    "Good idea," Gwen volunteered, forced
cheerfulness evident in her voice. "Since we don't have any other
groups coming in this week, I'm sure Mack and Bruce would love to
help out."
    "'Mack and Bruce would love to help out,'"
Bud mimicked, making a disgusted face. He shifted in his seat, the
safety belt chafing against his flannel work shirt. "I guess I'll be busy working on the water lines."
    "The septic system needs work, too," Gwen
informed him.
    Beside Riley, his grandfather put his head
in his hands and sighed. A string of muffled obscenities followed,
mostly relating to Bud's opinions of "goddamn plumbers" and his
fervent desire not to