She hadn't smiled, just watched him cautiously as he got out of his truck and approached. Buford couldn't blame her. It was lonely here at this time of morning and he realized he must look suspicious. He had a light beard and mustache because he hadn't shaved for several days. He'd thrown on his oldest and most comfortable pair of jeans and a ratty old Jimmy Buffet T-shirt to go fishing in. At least his black felt cowboy hat with the small colorful Navajo band was in good shape.