Читать книгу Her Heart's Bargain - Cheryl Harper - Страница 10
ОглавлениеASH KINGFISHER HATED missing days at the ranger station. The amount of paperwork that shuffled across his desk was enough to drown any strong bureaucrat.
It wasn’t what Ash had planned for or wanted. Ever since his first encounter with a ranger on the trail up to The Aerie with his grandfather, he’d dreamed of becoming a law enforcement ranger; getting paid to spend days out on the Reserve, the uniform, even the hat, all of it had seemed his perfect job. But he’d landed behind a desk when a mistake had robbed him of the full use of his leg. Was he good at his job? Yes. That didn’t mean he loved the sound of pen scratching across paper as he signed an unending stack of reports.
After three days out of the office? He’d need a life preserver, an unlimited coffee supply and all the organizational ability of the best right hand ever, one Macy Gentry. Most days, she was all the help he needed to make it through.
Today, even her skills might not be enough.
This forced vacation reminded him that he missed seeing her every day. Macy was the bright ray of light that cut through his shadow. No matter what happened today, it would be better than the rest of the week because they’d be together.
His visit to see the chief ranger in Knoxville had been predictable. Frank talk, so many questions about who might have released the report if it hadn’t been him, a tense phone conversation with Whit Callaway, Senior, followed by the chief ranger’s orders to stay out of sight for a full week, answer zero phone calls and knocks on his door, and let Brett and Macy handle the Reserve’s business. He hated it.
A full week? Seventy-eight hours was all Ash could manage. He needed his desk, his view of the forests and the comfortable sounds of Macy running the world outside his door. The park guides needed a new schedule. Brett was handling all the incident reports that landed on his desk, doing Ash’s job. And Macy was forced to juggle all the tiny crises that hit every day in a busy place like Otter Lake.
Ash closed his eyes and tried to breathe in the peace of the Buckeye Cove along Wattie Run, one of the smaller creeks that flowed into Otter Lake. At this time of year, few animals were stirring in the cold hours before dawn, but the heart of the land was still beating. He tried to concentrate on his own heartbeat. If he was successful, it would drown out the chaos that had taken over his brain ever since he’d gotten an angry phone call from his boss Monday morning.
When the faintest pink of sunrise over the mountains stained his eyelids, he gave up. It wasn’t that he was a big believer in meditation, but when times got hard, he knew he had to go to the water.
Very little of his father’s Cherokee heritage had trickled down and stuck with him, but this was unshakable. His sister could tell stories and share their history easily because she’d soaked it in. For him, he had to be outdoors to truly feel alive. Today, the sound, the smell, the quiet of his spot beside the running water were necessary.
He needed to absorb enough silence and calm to make it through what would be a hard day.
Winter was his least favorite season, but attendance numbers dropped in the Reserve and there was more time in the day to get outside. To get away from the ringing phone and back to what made him love his job. The land he worked hard to protect. His father’s favorite fishing hole. The place his grandmother’s youngest brother had told him about the legend of Rabbit tricking Possum, leaving him with a tail without a single hair. The background of the old faded wedding photo his mother loved to show him. She’d been the original hippie, even if she’d come to Sweetwater and Otter Lake on a spring break trip from her Ivy League school forty years ago, about a decade too late to claim the name.
Donna Warren and Martin Kingfisher had met on a hike; as soon as she’d graduated, Donna had left New England behind to find her real home in Tennessee.
She and his father had married with a small group of friends who’d made the climb up to the overlook of Yanu Falls. From his spot, he could hear the falls rustling in the summertime. Right now, the water was more of a slide along a frozen surface down into the lake.
But that was okay. It was only for a season. In the spring, everything would change again.
He’d held on to that promise, that things would change again, for a long time.
Unfortunately, sometimes when the promise came true, things only got worse.
“Dark. Real dark, Kingfisher.” Ash forced himself to stand, the ache in his leg worse than when he’d started out that morning. Sitting on cold rock could do that to a man. Eventually, he’d either have to give up his favorite hike, or he’d have to admit old age and bad decisions had caught up with him and find a place with a bench. “So it’s going to be like that, is it? Nothing but rain clouds and thunder.”
The hoot of an owl stopped him in his tracks. “Oh, fine. That’s not creepy timing.” If his grandmother had been near, she’d insist the owl was a messenger. Somehow, every omen had to do with death the way his enisi told it. “Could be good news, Ash. And messages are just messages, anyway.”
Frustrated with himself, Ash limped back to the Reserve SUV sitting alone in the tiny parking lot. The push to get the Reserve’s attendance numbers up hadn’t taken off, and this latest catastrophe was going to be a distraction. To address either problem, he had to be hands-on.
As Ash slid into the driver’s seat, he gripped the steering wheel. While his leg painfully adjusted to the change in circumstances and the heater warmed everything, Ash muttered, “Three good things.”
That was Macy’s influence. It wasn’t that she was so bright and optimistic herself. She had no time for foolishness. Self-pity? Yeah, that would be enemy number one to his capable office manager.
He liked it like that, too. Without her...
He didn’t want to imagine how dark life might get without her.
In the bad days right after the accident, where a friend’s decision to climb the wrong spot in the park had gotten them both injured, Ash had struggled against that darkness. The threat of never being able to do what he loved, serving at Otter Lake as a ranger, had been real. Then he’d been moved to his spot in the new visitor center. Eventually, the Administrative Services director had sent young Macy Gentry to manage it and turn his world upside down, mainly by forcing light into dim corners.
They’d made each other miserable before they’d learned to work together.
Come up with three good things. That’s what she muttered to herself every time someone snapped at her over the phone, or a vendor gave her the runaround, or when he made her mad enough to spit. Sometimes she said them out loud. Sunshine. A steady paycheck. Work that matters. She’d said it; Ash had felt it and he was grateful for the reminder.
Ash backed out of the parking spot. “Number one, your commute is perfect.”
Driving in the park was something he enjoyed. Even in the winter, the old growth trees meant lots of shade and sun and the animals of the park were hardy. A little cold only slowed them down. As he turned into the parking lot of the ranger station, Ash hit the brakes hard at the sight of a shadow on the path leading up to the visitor center’s overlook. Was it a black bear? The mild temps meant the bear might still be out foraging, but he faded into the trees before Ash could get his binoculars out.
Black bears mean good luck. His father had told him that the first time they’d run into one on a hike up Yanu. Ash had never found anyone else who said so, but his father either believed or wanted him to, so Ash went with it. Good luck. He needed it.
And Macy’s car was already parked outside. “That’s got to be three.”
She was usually the first in; he was the last out, only because he insisted she go home ahead of him. He and his rangers and support staff served the visitors to Otter Lake and Smoky Valley Nature Reserve. They were responsible for safety and law enforcement in the park, all education and conservation efforts, and welcoming visitors. If school groups needed guides or researchers needed support or hikers got lost or campers got rowdy or bills needed to be paid, it all ended up on his desk.
Macy made sure all of that fell into an orderly formation. Spending all day with her annoyed was going to test his patience.
Following orders outlined by his boss, the chief ranger, was always important, but it was especially a priority now that he owed his career to Leland Hall. Climbing without the proper safety equipment as a Reserve law enforcement ranger had been dumb beyond belief. Being fired would have made perfect sense. Instead, Leland Hall had recommended him for the new head ranger position. Ash’s hardline position on safety procedures was now well known to everyone who worked for him. No one would make the same mistakes he had, not while he was watching over the rangers at Otter Lake. He’d been lucky Chief Ranger Hall had believed in his ability to do more. His boss’s questioning about the leaked environmental impact report had been a hard blow. Being ordered away from his post was worse.
“Doesn’t matter. Only way out is through.” Ash heard his grim tone. He knew that people were saying he’d leaked the report. That he was being disloyal to his sister, to the town and what the lodge might mean for the local economy. “Never met bad news he didn’t like.” He’d gotten a reputation as Mr. Doom because he was forced to point out problems with the lodge project.
But he did all that upfront, no sneaking around.
The mayor and town council of Sweetwater and other places that depended on the Reserve for tourism wanted the lodge. They could see money coming in, and the guy who’d insisted it was a bad deal for the Reserve itself was never going to be popular.
It made sense that folks suspected he’d stirred up the governor’s office.
Ash only wished he’d thought of it. Construction was scheduled to begin in less than a month. All this media frenzy stirred up by the governor might mean nothing, but if it delayed the lodge until he could come up with a permanent solution, it would all be worth the trouble. The architect’s plans were going to be confirmed at the next board meeting. His plan had been to present the report he’d commissioned on the impact of building at The Aerie at the same time.
Someone had beaten him to the punch, though.
And while he’d been trying to sleep last night, it had hit him that his sister would be tangled up in the same mess for however long it lasted. What if her job was in danger because of her connection to him? Worse. What if Whit Callaway was stupid enough to blow up their engagement over this lodge report?
After the chief ranger had suggested getting solid support for his position against building at The Aerie, he’d commissioned the report, but he’d talked to Winter about the findings. Showing it to her had changed her middle-of-the-road attitude to firm opposition to construction of the lodge. It could have worked for the board of directors as well.
Would she and Callaway be able to weather this trouble and the suspicion that Ash was sabotaging Whit’s political career?
He loved his little sister. This better not hurt her.
The fact that he hadn’t heard from her since the news broke made it impossible to pretend he might ever fall asleep again, leaving him plenty of time to make an early morning visit to Buckeye Cove.
“Silver linings to the storm clouds.” Ash chose a spot in the empty parking lot of the ranger station and slowly slid out of the SUV. The lack of a crowd out front was a relief. Leland had been right; with no Ash on hand, the reporters had moved on to other angles for their stories.
What would happen when word got around that he was back at his desk?
Maybe he should have taken the whole week as the chief ranger had ordered.
“I’m here now. Might as well clear my desk.” If the reporters or angry Sweetwater citizens started gathering, he could disappear.
Ash grabbed the hat he only wore on official visits and when he was forced to. Safety procedures were life. Uniforms inspired respect and gave his staff a professional image. But the hat? Carrying the thing was good enough, even if it was time for a haircut.
Letting his own standards slip would never do, no matter how off track his whole week had been.
As soon as he stepped inside the open space of the lobby, some of his anxiety melted. He could smell coffee. Macy was nearby. Every inch of the visitor center was in order. His office manager had been busy. Natural greenery framed the line of windows, while a giant wreath with white lights had been hung on the wall behind her desk. The holidays at the ranger station were usually low-key, but this year, Macy had badgered him into hosting an open house. They had new displays. Attendance numbers needed a boost. Everything she’d said made sense.
But now he was the center of a controversy. The last thing he wanted was to issue an invitation for people to stop and stare. Should he reconsider the open house?
Worse, would it turn into a picket line instead of a party?
The new winter educational displays were impressive.
Losing the head education ranger was a blow he’d have to focus on soon. The other park rangers responsible for teaching programs and guiding visitors had picked up the extra work, but someone needed to direct their activities, someone who could expand the Reserve’s reach.
He’d move finding that person to the top of the list.
Right after he soothed Macy, figured out how to clear the suspicion that he’d torpedoed the lodge project and found out whether his sister was brokenhearted or not, he’d finish applying for approval to hire a new education director.
Why was he so tired all of a sudden?
“Well, now, I wondered when I might see you again,” Macy drawled as she strolled over to block the pathway to his office. That was how she got him to stop: a full-blown barrier. If they were boxers in a ring, she’d be squared up and ready to fight.
Getting over that hurdle was job number one.
He should have spent more time figuring out what to say.
“Yeah, haven’t seen you in some time.” Ash ran a hand down his nape and fought back a wince as her eyebrows shot up. Not the way to go.
“You think you can make jokes, Ash Kingfisher?” Macy wildly shook her head. “That’s just another sign the world is off-kilter. Out. Of. Control. You don’t make jokes. You grunt. Sometimes you complain. Other times, you do thoughtful things that keep me from seriously considering doctoring your coffee in a bad way. But now, details. I want them.”
“Fine. Leland called me to Knoxville, where he and the Callaways questioned me about the environmental impact study I commissioned on the building plans at The Aerie. As I hope you’ve guessed, I had no information to give them. This isn’t me, but convincing anyone in Knoxville of that is going to take some effort. Leland told me to lay low all week, avoid the press and the staff of the Reserve, but I couldn’t.” The urge to tell her he’d missed her smile even more than he’d missed his desk or Otter Lake was strong, but he fought it back. To her, he was just the boss and not...anything else.
He dodged her to head straight for the coffeemaker, grateful his bum leg made it possible. His mug was sitting in front. Like she’d expected him. He filled the fish-shaped mug and covered the Don’t Bait Me on the side with both hands as he took the first sip. When he opened his eyes, Macy was propping one shoulder against the door frame, doing her best impression of a patient woman. Not a hair was out of place, but the temperature in the air suggested he was pressing his luck. “The fact that I requested the study, Winter’s engaged to a Callaway, the construction company is owned by a Callaway, the Reserve is involved... I’m right in the center of all the speculation and it makes sense to anyone who doesn’t know me.” He took another long drink of the coffee, acknowledged his burned taste buds and enjoyed the slow roll of caffeine into his system. “Was it terrible here?”
Macy tilted her head to the side. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Would have been nice if I’d had a warning.”
That wasn’t what Brett told him when he’d called for status reports.
“Yeah, me, too.” Their eyes met. She understood him. Neither of them had been prepared.
He should have called her, but that had seemed impossible. With Brett, he could demand facts and make yes-and-no decisions accordingly.
For Macy, he’d want to charge in to the rescue.
Macy took his mug and topped it off. “Let this one cool down first.”
This was the reason things weren’t quite as simple with Macy. In a hundred different ways, they were more than coworkers. She looked out for him.
He would do the same for her, but he never tried to give his feelings for Macy a name. That could be scary.
“You know I was sure you could handle whatever came up here, right?” Ash didn’t meet her stare because he was leaving his comfort zone quickly. Feelings and saying them out loud? Not his MO.
“I did need help.” Macy retreated to the doorway. “On the first day. Since then, the calls have died down a bit. A few picketers showed up yesterday, but this cold weather is probably slowing them down. If word gets out that you’re back, that will change. What do you want me to say?”
Lie for me. Tell them I’m not here.
She would do it, too, because Macy supported the Otter Lake Ranger Station fully.
But asking her to do that would do little to restore his own balance, so Ash didn’t.
Macy’s exaggerated eye roll would have been insubordination on any other day with any other employee. Today, it made him laugh. “So much respect.”
Macy marched over to his desk and thumped her hand on a towering stack of white paper. “Here’s my respect. Perfect paperwork every time. Stacked in order of priority. Just like every time.” She made the signing motion. “Waiting on you to finish.”
She left off the every time, but it was present in the room.
“Where are the newspapers?” Ash had never expected to become so set in his ways, but the idea of diving straight into spreadsheets without first meandering his way through the day’s headlines further upset his queasy stomach. He sipped his coffee, hoping it would drown the acid of worry.
“On my desk.” She planted her feet firmly. “You don’t want to see them. Neither does Brett, but I have plans to make sure he gets a good look at a certain photo, lipstick smear in full color, in the Sweetwater Sentinel.” The gleam in her eyes suggested they might all have a real laugh about something. The warning about the rest of the papers? Not good.
“You better show them to me.” He stared hard at the red light on his phone. “I might have messages waiting about them.”
Macy nodded once and then marched away. Normally, the noises she made as she moved in the lobby were soothing background sounds. Today each step clicked like hands on a clock.
Or a ticking time bomb.
Instead of plopping the newspapers down and then sailing away, like she would usually do, Macy eased them down and lingered. There was no other word for her watchful waiting.
“Don’t hover.” Ash sipped his coffee and then carefully stared at her until she held up both hands in surrender.
“I’ll be outside if you need me.” Macy paused in the doorway, her long blond ponytail swinging to punctuate her irritation. “You never did tell me what you want me to do with callers who ask for you. I’ll tell them you aren’t here. Give you some time to catch up.” Satisfied with her own answer, she turned to go.
“Put them through to me. I’ll handle it, Macy.” Ash waited for her to meet his stare and nod. He still didn’t fully trust her to do as he’d asked, mainly because she was almost always certain she had a better answer, but he’d done the right thing.
It was also the hard thing, but that seemed to be the case more and more.
On top of the stack of newspapers was a shot of Ranger Brett Hendrix standing out in front of the visitor center. He seemed to have full control of the situation. Macy had his back, her pen ready. The two of them were a credit to the Reserve.
Ash slipped on a pair of reading glasses he kept in his desk to study the fine print.
“Lots of questions. No answers. So, basically the same as every other news outlet.” Satisfied he’d gotten the main idea, he moved to turn to the next page and caught a red smear on Brett’s cheek. Lipstick. On his face. In a photo on the front page.
No wonder Macy was delighted. She’d be back in soon to reclaim her prize.
Brett Hendrix was the kind of employee every boss would be lucky to find. He was dedicated to his job. Smart. Followed procedure without complaint and served with the highest standards.
After a rocky period where family stress caused some distraction for him, he’d settled into the job and performed at the highest level. The guy made no mistakes.
This photo would drive him nuts.
Ash smiled as he set the newspaper down on top of the documents Macy was antsy to have reviewed and signed. When she asked, he’d tell her that the news was causing the delay. Picturing her death glare made him smile again.
Things could not be that bad. Life at the Otter Lake Ranger Station was close to all right that morning.
Then he opened the next paper, saw the governor’s angry face, and his own official photograph from the website for the Reserve. It wasn’t a mug shot, but it could almost pass as one. What made no sense was why it was there. Ash quickly scanned the content of the article around his photo. The only reference to him was completely true. He was the ranger in charge of the Otter Lake area. So what?
The project had enjoyed almost zero support on the ground here at the Reserve. Even without data and traffic projections, the effect on the habitat of The Aerie from construction alone had raised so many alarms. His objections were on record in the form of easily requested memos and reports, but it was almost like someone was setting him up to take the blame for this covert maneuver. He’d stated his objections publicly. How dumb would he have to be not to understand everyone would focus on him if he’d actually decided to leak the report? Even Ash could understand why he’d be the primary suspect.
If he never objected, everyone would assume he was the anonymous source who’d leaked the report to the governor. He checked for the journalist’s name on the story and turned to the computer to find a phone number.
Then he flipped to the next paper. Nothing. The story didn’t make the cut. “Finally. Some luck.”
When he reviewed his search results for the reporter’s contact info, Ash clicked the website link for the article and another photo of himself loaded. This time he was leaving the district office. “And I look like fifty miles of bad road.”
His uniform was wrinkled. His hat was missing. And his hair clearly exceeded the Reserve’s standards. Besides that, it might as well have been combed with a weed whacker.
Ash closed his eyes, but he could still see his own mess. “Why hasn’t the chief ranger called to rain his displeasure down? He told me to lay low and I did, but I’m still all over the front page and looking as if I slept in my uniform.” Silence from Knoxville’s district office was not a good sign.
“He called. I took a message.” Macy slowly reached over to pick up the Sweetwater paper. “You okay, boss?”
“I can tell things are serious when you call me ‘boss.’ Do I look that fragile?” Ash asked as he scrubbed his hand through his hair. From most of his staff, “boss” was an endearment. She meant it that way, too, but he preferred his name on her lips.
He didn’t really want anything putting more space between them, but the reminder of who they were, boss and important right hand, might be a gift.
When he realized he was still wearing the reading glasses, he yanked them off and tossed them in a desk drawer. He couldn’t do anything about the gray hair spreading at his temple.
“That’s what happened to your hair before they took the picture.” Macy leaned closer, the scent of magnolia and soap an easy reminder of better times. “And you don’t have to hide the glasses. They make you look...distinguished.”
“Another word for old. Distinguished.” Almost a decade older than Macy. The word twisted on his tongue. “Fits me today. These last few days have aged me at least ten years.”
“Anything I can do?” Macy asked brightly. He liked her energy, but today, she was too young, too healthy and strong. Compared to her, he felt brittle. Too little sleep. Too much time cooped up inside his small cabin with his own thoughts. A combination that was bad for him.
Ash braced his elbows on the desk and considered asking her advice on what to do to clear his name. Unless he convinced the Callaways and the chief ranger he’d had nothing to do with leaking that report, his job might be gone. His plan had made sense: get numbers, the data to show the impact of the construction and operation of the new lodge in black and white. Take the emotion out of the equation, all his family’s history. That had been his only goal. The Callaways had set aside this land and hired him to do the job of preserving. Ash had only been doing what he’d been asked to do, to request the study on the environmental impact.
But unless someone else came forward, who would believe his claims of innocence?
Macy might be able to figure out how to spin this story, so everything turned out the way it was supposed to. She did that daily with small problems. Could she help with this one?
“Don’t know what I’d do without you manning your post, Macy.” He’d meant it as nothing but a compliment. The way her face fell made him think he’d missed the mark, but she immediately straightened her shoulders and nodded. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”
She disappeared a second before he blurted out something he would regret. What could he say?
I missed you.
A few other things came to mind, but that was what he wanted to say. Instead, he buried his head in the reports on his desk.
Visitation numbers were down.
Spending was flat.
Revenue coming in from the education programs and even what had been reported from the campground and marina...all lower than normal, even for December.
Dutifully, he scribbled his name, but it was difficult to continue. After hours of spreadsheets and incident reports filed by the law enforcement rangers over the weekend and So. Many. Emails. Ash leaned back in his chair and stared up at the water spot on the ceiling.
Primer and paint would fix that.
Did they have the budget? He covered his eyes, so weary.
“I’m off to grab some lunch. Want me to lock the front door?” Macy stood in the doorway, half in, half out. Her hesitation was unusual.
“We’re open regular hours today. I’ll cover the phones and the front.” And count the minutes until she got back.
“Should I send Brett for backup?” Macy asked.
Ash waved her off. “You’ve been stuck here all week. Get out. The paperwork fairy will leave you a gift on your desk.”
Instead of laughing or glaring or lecturing or any other Macy thing, she just...left. Silently.
At this point, he had a few choices to make.
He should call his sister. Winter was pretty close to the center of this mess as well and she had as much, if not more, to lose.
Would her engagement survive the storm? Would she blame Ash if Whit Callaway called off the wedding? This lodge was the Callaway family’s current cause, an expansion on the Reserve after five generations of conservation.
It would make them a lot of money.
Politicians always required a lot of money.
Another suspect might be all he needed to settle the Callaway family down. All he had to do was think.
The water spot resembled a standard poodle. Further study turned up no other ideas for the report’s leaker.
“Well, there’s me.” Frustrated that he was the only logical suspect, Ash folded the newspapers and tossed them into the trash can. He heard an imaginary Macy bark “Recycle!” in his ear so he pulled them out and dropped them on top of the leaning pile behind his chair. “Since I know I didn’t leak this report, there has to be someone else.”
Fatigued, yet ready for a project he could complete quickly, Ash picked up his glasses and settled in to read Macy’s outline of events for the coming open house. Not because he was concerned she’d forgotten anything, but just because it was nice to live in her organized world. “I should have asked for pie.”
