Книга - Her Heart’s Bargain

Her Heart's Bargain
Cheryl Harper


He’s the kind of man a woman risks everything for ! Head ranger Ash Kingfisher has been thrust into the eye of a political firestorm. Macy Gentry won’t quit until she clears her boss’s good name and safeguards the land they both love. The biggest obstacle is Ash, who’s determined to protect Macy at the expense of their chemistry!







He’s the kind of man—

a woman risks everything for

Head ranger Ash Kingfisher has been thrust into the eye of a political firestorm. Macy Gentry won’t quit until she clears her boss’s good name and safeguards the land they both love. The biggest obstacle is Ash, who’s determined to protect Macy at the expense of what’s developing between them. She’ll have to show their Tennessee town how much they need this special man—and how much Ash needs her.


CHERYL HARPER discovered her love for books and words as a little girl, thanks to a mother who made countless library trips, and an introduction to Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House stories. Whether stories she reads are set on the prairie, the American West, Regency England or Earth a hundred years in the future, Cheryl enjoys strong characters who make her laugh. Now Cheryl spends her days searching for the right words while she stares out the window and her dog, Jack, snoozes beside her. And she considers herself very lucky to do so.

For more information about Cheryl’s books, visit her online at cherylharperbooks.com (https://cherylharperbooks.com/) or follow her on Twitter, @cherylharperbks (https://twitter.com/CherylHarperBks).


Also by Cheryl Harper (#u2148c765-fca1-5954-b421-07bd37e73ddb)

Saving the Single Dad

Smoky Mountain Sweethearts

A Home Come True

Keeping Cole’s Promise

Heart’s Refuge

Winner Takes All

The Bluebird Bet

A Minute on the Lips

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Her Heart’s Bargain

Cheryl Harper






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-09076-6

HER HEART’S BARGAIN

© 2018 Cheryl Harper

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Version: 2018-12-18


This one’s for my team, the friends who move

closer instead of away when life takes a turn.

How lucky I am to have you!


Contents

Cover (#u2621888f-a8a1-5a18-bc55-c48163e1e9f8)

Back Cover Text (#u8327f93c-b3db-54e1-9755-277ee9085a4a)

About the Author (#uc38da336-83c7-5ba6-b187-5a4104c5958a)

Booklist (#uadad8b86-ed57-59ff-b299-a761e93d937f)

Title Page (#uf4f87727-ed85-530c-bd9d-589c0956cdeb)

Copyright (#uc962ef9d-5889-500a-b336-8d519d77126f)

Dedication (#ud2ce7030-ee6c-53bd-9323-98ea3b14275a)

CHAPTER ONE (#u44b2f3cd-1a36-57e8-aab8-cd324d1b6851)

CHAPTER TWO (#ue2663eaf-8892-569b-b1e5-d2e24b5f68fb)

CHAPTER THREE (#uf4ae1335-6419-5e7b-9e68-a513294ae844)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u31829dc3-7978-5f35-92b6-b30add03ccc7)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#u2148c765-fca1-5954-b421-07bd37e73ddb)

THE FIRST TIME a reporter called to ask for an official comment from Ranger Ash Kingfisher, the man in charge of the Otter Lake Ranger Station, Macy Gentry made the mistake of asking for more details. Most of the calls that came in to the station were easy to handle. Directions. Suggestions for hotels. Campground reservations. Questions about the best time to visit to see otters or bears or fall color. Sometimes there was an odd call that got misdirected from one of the state or national parks, but after four years, she’d learned to manage everything like clockwork.

Today, her foolproof system had hit a snag with one simple request for a quote from her boss. She’d stumbled; the reporter had pounced, demanding to know Ash’s whereabouts, and she’d hung up the phone.

Since she took pride in her phone skills, that abrupt ending had been enough to rattle Macy.

Very rarely was she pushed to that extreme. Rudeness had no place at the visitor desk of the ranger station. Unfortunately, that rare snowflake had turned into an avalanche of similar calls.

“Sharks, the lot of ’em.” As soon as there was one drop of blood in the water, she had a swarm on her hands. After more than an hour of juggling calls, Macy was feeling a bit bloodied and a whole lot frazzled. “What I need is a harpoon, scatter them sharks with one shot.” Irritated with her own overreaction to the problem, she muttered, “Get a grip, Macy. It’s easier to turn the ringer off on the phone.” The ranger station had protocols for every conceivable emergency.

“Almost every emergency.” Macy flipped through the binder she’d insisted Ash put together before slapping it back in the labeled slot where it lived. He’d been exasperated by all her “just in case” scenarios. “Looks like I left one off the list—attack of the reporters.”

Since she prided herself and intimidated those around her with extreme capability, losing control of the situation was not an option. Macy had a lot of work to do. The ranger station served as the administration building for all the law enforcement rangers and park guides responsible for the educational programs and public outreach at Otter Lake. In this building, everyone had an important job and they all answered to the head ranger, Ash Kingfisher.

Ash made his reports to the chief ranger in Knoxville, along with the fire chief and head rangers of the two other, smaller ranger stations at Awi on the north edge and Lena Prospect on the far southeastern line, but he was the man who kept Otter Lake operational, and she was his right hand. This circus was hampering her ability to mark things off her to-do list.

The man who might explain exactly why there was all this attention on the station was currently AWOL.

With great difficulty, Macy ignored the ringing desk phone to pick up her cell phone and glared hard at the screen. He should have answered her call for help by now.

“In this crazy ol’ world, I got you, Ash Kingfisher. Don’t you let me down,” she muttered and then switched her glare to flashing lights on the ringing desk phone. The second line, the one that only rang when she was absent or too sick to function at an acceptable rate of speed, was lit up. “That devil’s selling popsicles today because something has got to be freezing over.” Macy took a deep breath and picked up the first line. “Otter Lake Ranger Station. How may I assist you today?” Macy hoped she was the only person picking up on the crack of strain.

“I’m headed in your direction. ETA ten minutes.” Brett Hendrix’s deep voice was pleasant but not the one she’d been hoping for. As the head of the rangers handling law enforcement at the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve, Brett would be adequate backup, even if she’d much prefer Ash for a situation like this.

Covering her disappointment took a second. “Thanks for the call, hon. I’ll put out the welcome mat.” Then she hung up. Decoding what it meant that Brett was coming to the rescue instead of Ash would take too much time and brainpower, so she picked up the other line as line one lit up again. “Otter Lake Ranger Station. How may I assist you today?”

“I’d like to speak to Ash Kingfisher. This is Bailey Garcia, from Channel Six News.”

Bailey was using her professional reporter’s voice, so Macy returned the gesture. “The head ranger is currently out of the office. I’m not sure when he will be returning. May I take a message?” Barely ten o’clock. She had to start closing down this circus, so she could get her day back on track. Where was an empty clown car when she needed it?

“I’ll call back, but I was wondering if you might have a comment on the bombshell breaking from the capitol today?” The silence that followed was wide-open.

“I’ll need a little more information than that,” Macy said. She’d never been known for her ability to keep a secret, so maybe it was a good thing she was in the dark. Macy Gentry had also never learned to avoid trouble. “What ‘bombshell’ are you referring to exactly?”

Without some direction, what could she say? That her boss hadn’t come in to the station when he was supposed to, and he hadn’t called to tell her why?

“Governor Duncan has called a press conference in response to an environmental impact study that shows the lodge the Callaways are pushing through will cause irreparable damage to The Aerie, the highest point in the Reserve.” The expectant silence thrummed down the phone line.

“What does that have to do with Ash?” Macy asked. Why weren’t the reporters flocking to the Callaways?

“Whit Callaway, Senior, is demanding to know who is responsible for releasing the report and for dragging the Callaways’ political opponent into the fray.” The pleasure in Bailey Garcia’s voice told the real story. All this fuss was about a hot sound bite, ready to lead the nightly news. “His son has been gaining ground in the polls, giving Governor Duncan a serious run for his money. This report may damage those gains and whoever gave it to the governor has made a powerful enemy. Speculation has turned to the most vocal critic of the new lodge.”

Since Ash had never learned to hold his tongue about things that mattered, he was the number one opponent to the lodge’s construction.

It made sense.

Ash was as predictable as the sunset. His unexplained absence was enough to convince Macy that Ash was in the center of the storm. The fact that she was the last to know? Annoying as all get-out.

If Macy closed her eyes, she could see Bailey Garcia on the television screen, her perfect dark hair in a sleek bob. She smoothed one hand down her ponytail before snatching a pen off her desk.

“I have no comment. All official Reserve press communication is handled by the public affairs officers in Knoxville. If you’d like to leave a message for the head ranger, please don’t hesitate to call back.” Macy gently set the phone back in the receiver and took a deep breath.

Her cell phone showed no new texts, but the flash of light outside drew her attention to the tall windows that made up one side of the Otter Lake Ranger Station and Visitor Center. On normal days, a peaceful view of a nearly empty parking lot and the forest and mountains beyond was a pretty picture.

Now that view was blocked by a news van that hadn’t been there ten minutes ago and what might grow into a full-blown paparazzi pack unless she acted quickly.

Gentrys didn’t dither. Gentrys took control. Ash was out of the picture for a minute, but the district office in Knoxville might have answers. She waited for one of the lines to clear and hit the first speed-dial button.

“Smoky Valley Nature Reserve District Office. This is Kayla. How may I direct your call?” Kayla had been the third person to take over reception since Macy had landed the spot at the ranger station. She was probably facing the same barrage of calls Macy had. Her ability to pretend it was just another day explained why she’d outlasted the others.

“Hey, girl, it’s Macy. My phone is ringing off the hook with reporters looking for comments from Ash. Is Winter around? If there’s an official answer I’m supposed to be giving, I’d love to have it.” Winter Kingfisher, Ash’s sister, was the public information officer for the Reserve. If anyone had prepared a statement, Winter would have it ready to go.

Kayla answered in a low voice, “Winter isn’t in the office. She was here, but she left in a hurry after I put a call through from Whit Callaway.” The last two words were whispered.

Macy watched more news vans park in front of the door. “Have you seen Ash?”

Kayla cleared her throat. “Yeah, but he’s been in with the chief ranger. My orders are to say nothing but politely. Maybe you can manage the same.”

“Good advice. When Ash comes out, could you have him call me?” Macy asked.

“I’ll try, but the atmosphere here is tense, you know?” Kayla answered. “The chief just stepped out to take a call from the Callaways, so Ash’s meeting may be over soon, anyway.”

“Thanks, Kayla.” Macy ended the call and straightened as her phone immediately rang again. Reporter? Or Ash?

Macy picked up her phone to text Ash an update. Reporters at the front door. Where are you?

She chewed the tip of her fingernail as she waited. Texting was Ash’s preferred mode of communication. Even in person, he spoke as few words as possible.

After what seemed like a lifetime, but must have been all of three seconds, Ash answered. Keep telling them: no comment. Brett is on the way. My orders are to avoid the press and the ranger station for now, but he’s close.

Macy considered a few different answers but settled on encouraging. We can handle the reporters. This will blow over.

When he didn’t immediately answer, Macy wished she’d erased the last line of the text before she’d hit Send.

Eventually, Ash answered. You can handle anything, Gentry, but I don’t want you to have to do it alone.

Macy clasped a hand over her stomach as a weird twist settled there. Ash was confident in her ability as always. His concern for her was sweet, different from his normal stoic self.

Take your time in Knoxville. We’ll talk when you get home. Satisfied that she hadn’t crossed the line into warm and fuzzy, Macy put her phone down carefully.

Right. Brett’s estimated time of arrival... Macy turned to check the oversize clock perched right behind her desk. Two minutes late. “That polecat should be here by now.” The crowd outside had grown. Now the reporters had been joined by Sweetwater’s mayor, two of the old guys who loitered in the barbershop on Saturday and Macy’s landlord. They weren’t marching, but the signs they were waving signaled their protest.

“Save Sweetwater jobs. More tourists equal more tax dollars equal more school spending. Callaway for Tennessee.” Macy read the signs and had to admit they deserved extra points for preparation. The one with the equal signs and the dollar signs replacing every S was painted in neon orange. If four picketers had shown up this quickly after the story broke, how large could the crowd grow? The people milling around on the sidewalk appeared to be waiting for someone, but eventually, they would come inside.

Unless she locked the door.

Could she do that?

She could do it, but should she? Her finger hovered over the panic button Ash had insisted be installed the previous summer when one of the national park rangers had come under fire. If she pushed it, the doors locked and an emergency alert went out to all the law enforcement rangers. Macy had argued then that it was the rangers who needed better protection, not office managers, but today she was wondering if she was going to have to tell Ash he’d been right after all.

That panic button would remain unpushed until Macy drew her last breath. Ash couldn’t be right. The man was right too often for her peace of mind as it was.

Then Brett Hendrix’s SUV rolled in and it was almost as if she could hear the cavalry bugles playing in the distance. He was only a man, but Brett had the training, the badge and Ash’s respect to back him up.

The way all the reporters immediately swarmed him, microphones out and cameras flashing, convinced Macy that no matter what was going on, Ash had made a couple of good decisions already.

Being scarce at this point was his best defense.

Macy stood and did her best to smooth any wrinkles out of her pants before straightening her navy blue Reserve shirt. Ash insisted every staff member wear the uniform and treat it with respect.

When the television cameras turned to her, she figured she’d better look the part.

As she opened the front door, Macy heard Brett say, “I have no new information on the status of the lodge project.”

“But is the governor’s insistence that there be an investigation a political maneuver?” a tall, thin man at the back of the pack shouted.

Brett held up both hands signaling he had no way of knowing. Macy was certain that was the only possible answer. How were they to know what the governor had intended by seizing this environmental impact study and taking a stand? Common sense said it was about causing trouble for his political opponent, but how much further would he go than stirring up the news media?

Macy had met the guy once. Richard Duncan had run on a platform of “Tennessee First” and had taped one of his campaign commercials on Otter Lake. He’d been surrounded by an entourage at least four people deep. A hurried handshake was the best he could manage.

“Why isn’t the Reserve’s public information officer, Winter Kingfisher, here answering these questions?” Bailey Garcia shouted from her spot in the front row. “Surely, she’d have good information, Ranger Hendrix, being so close to all involved. She’s employed by the Callaways, engaged to the governor’s rival and the sister of Ash Kingfisher.”

Brett propped his hands on his hips. “Great suggestion. As the Reserve’s public outreach officer, Winter would be your best source. You can contact the district office in Knoxville for more details. She does not work in this office, so she isn’t here for your questions.”

Everyone was using their official voices today. The last time Macy had heard Brett speaking like that, he’d been lecturing his daughter about protecting her brother instead of running con games on him. Riley Hendrix had the sort of gumption Macy admired. Today with that stern tone, if Brett had rolled up to her campsite, she’d have said “yes, sir” and “no, sir” until he left, and then wondered later what had come over her. Authority came with the badge, but the voice helped.

“Where is the head ranger?” Bailey asked.

“He was called to the district office early this morning. I don’t know when he will return, but—” Brett looked over his shoulder at Macy “—Ms. Gentry will take down your information so that Ranger Kingfisher can get back to each of you in due course.”

Macy waved a pen and pad, as if she was desperate to be writing down names and numbers.

No one was satisfied with that answer.

Brett listened to the jumble of shouted questions for another minute before interjecting. “I have nothing further to add. You can stay here if you like, but we ask that you move to one side. The visitor center and offices are open for business.” Instead of hanging around to watch them move, Brett turned and ushered Macy inside.

Their steps rang through the empty lobby as they walked back to her desk. Gleaming hardwood floors and the vaulted cathedral ceiling meant every step echoed.

Macy did her best not to flop into her chair, aware that she had an audience. She perched carefully and crammed a hundred questions into one raised eyebrow.

Brett made a solid wall between her and the reporters, his shoulders blocking the view. “They’re still there, aren’t they? That’s scarier than dealing with an angry bear or finding a lost hiker.” His stance was solid, unshakable, but his face showed his concern.

“Between you and me, what’s really going on?” Macy asked.

“When we talked, Ash didn’t know much, but the chief ranger demanded he report to the district office first thing. Everything else that I know, I’ve heard on the radio.”

Brett tugged off his hat and tossed it on her desk before ruffling his hand through sweaty hair. The pressure had gotten to him. The first week of December was not a sweaty time in Sweetwater, not unless a man was wilting under stress.

Flirting with the panic button reminded Macy she had come dangerously close to cracking herself. Now she was ready to push Brett for answers. Macy crossed her arms over her chest, certain he’d pick up on her body language. “We’ve got plenty of time. Tell me everything.”

Brett sighed. “The new lodge the Callaways are pushing to build? The one the chief ranger’s been working on for more than a year with the Reserve planning office and Callaway Construction? Yeah, well...” Brett rolled his shoulders. “The environmental impact report on building the lodge up at The Aerie is about to hit the news cycle. Some anonymous tipster got a copy to the governor, and now he’s making waves. He’ll use whatever he can to knock Whit Callaway down in the polls before the election, even if we all know Richard Duncan is only interested in conservation as a sound bite.”

The Aerie was the highest point in the park and provided habitat for several native Tennessee species. The Callaways had built a reputation as benevolent protectors of Tennessee’s history, leaning heavily on the acres of land Whit Callaway’s great-great-great grandfather had set aside for conservation. A report that outlined how their new moneymaking project would destroy a large piece of that would not be something they’d want falling into the hands of a political enemy.

And yet, it had, but how?

“That lodge is to be built on Callaway land, even if the land’s been held in reserve for public use for five Callaway generations. What can the governor say or do about that?” Brett glanced over his shoulder. “It always comes back to money, doesn’t it? Right now, the lodge is on hold until the Callaways decide what to do in the face of the results of the suddenly very publicized environmental impact study. If they move forward as is, the reputation they pride themselves on as generous protectors of Tennessee takes a hit. That’s pretty much Whit Callaway’s entire platform. ‘Good for Tennessee.’ If they stop the project completely, their future bank account will be impacted because that lodge will make money.”

Nature reserve areas had been carved out of the extensive Callaway lands and were self-sustaining at this point, thanks to programs, grants and daily operations, but the Callaways directed the work at each reserve through the board of directors. The Smoky Valley Nature Reserve was the Callaway family’s gift to the people of Tennessee, but they still held all the strings. The planned luxury lodge was a huge undertaking and would change the face of the Reserve near Otter Lake in any number of ways.

Where the rest of the Reserve’s activities supported the Reserve itself, the lodge profits would be going to the Callaways. No one could mistake how important the lodge was to the family.

“Why all this interest in Ash? I mean, the project stalls, I guess, but he’s got no connection to Callaway Construction or the governor.”

“Ash has been the most vocal opponent of the building plans and their impact on the animals and their ecosystems. Even I could see how the public could think he’s responsible for the report being leaked. He planned to present the findings at the next Reserve board meeting, but instead, it’s out there in the world, blindsiding the Callaways.”

Macy tipped her head back. “And neither Whit Callaway will be happy about that.” Since they ran the board and the board made all the hiring and firing decisions in the Reserve, the situation could get tense quickly.

“It’s so obviously a sabotage, making sure the biggest critic of the Callaways has a copy of the report that might point to greed, or at least a love of profit over preservation. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ash had considered doing it,” Brett said.

When she started to ask if he thought Ash was that devious, Brett answered, “I don’t think he did. Not his way, even if he loves this place. Actually, all it would have taken to convince Ash not to do it is to imagine this news frenzy.”

“Story’s got a bit of a soap opera atmosphere. Wealthy family. Political rivals. Scandal.” Macy frowned. No wonder reporters were making the trip to Sweetwater. Was this going to cause trouble for longer than a day?

Brett rubbed his forehead. “Not to mention the society wedding Winter and the Callaways have been planning. Marrying Winter, who’s admired by everyone who knows her, was bound to be a big boost to Whit’s credibility as a worthy candidate. If Winter goes through with it, there’ll still be a rain cloud over her day now.”

Macy hadn’t even considered that. “Oh, boy.”

Brett’s rough laugh echoed loudly. “Yeah. That pretty much covers it. No matter what it does to Whit Callaway’s election chances, this is going to leave a bruise. And if the Callaways decide to go there, Ash’s job could be in danger. They have a lot of power with the board of directors.”

“I wish I could talk to Ash,” Macy said, “to be sure he knows we don’t believe it’s true.”

“This morning when he called me and told me to get here ASAP so you’d have support, you were the most important thing on his mind. He’ll be okay. We’ll all work this out.” Brett turned to check on the people out front. “He and I must have crossed paths on the road. I was in Knoxville with Leanne. She’s thinking about going back to school and Christina insisted she didn’t need to go alone for her meeting with the admissions people.” He shook his head. “Yes, I took my ex-wife to meet with a college admissions counselor because my girlfriend insisted. Weirdest family in the world.”

Macy patted his shoulder and smiled. “Probably not the entire world, but you, your adorable kids, your ex and your new love, who might as well be her sister... Well, weirdest in East Tennessee, at least, possibly the whole state. Hold your head up, kid.” Teasing him was normal. After the crazy morning they’d had, it was nice to have some normal again.

Brett studied the floor and then he nodded. “I’ll accept that, as long as we’re solidly in the running for happiest, too.”

Pleased to have something to think about other than the missing Ash and the potential fallout to the story, Macy tapped his cheek affectionately. “That lipstick on your handsome jaw should get you a big head start in that competition.”

“You don’t expect me to fall for that, do you?” Brett raised an eyebrow.

Macy didn’t answer, only widened her grin. He didn’t want to believe her, but he had his doubts.

“It’s a good color for you, but it’s better on Christina.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’d wager a month’s pay that’s why you were late. You had to make a quick stop down at the campground for a good-morning kiss?”

Brett rubbed his jaw to eliminate the evidence. “Maybe.” If this had been any other day, she would have hooted with excitement and given him so much grief over the blush staining his cheeks that Brett would have quit the ranger station like his hair was on fire.

As it was, she couldn’t contain a wicked laugh. “That woman’s got you good. I love it.”

He rolled his shoulders. “I love it, too.”

“Good thing. When the pictures come out in the newspaper tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know you’ve been claimed.” Macy’s grin matched his until she noticed the way the reporters were watching their show through the large windows.

Anxious for the protection and control of her usual spot, Macy retreated to her chair. “You staying in the office today?”

Brett motioned over his shoulder. “As long as they’re here, I’m here. I’ve called in an extra officer for campground patrols. There are no tours on the schedule today, so all the guides have the day off. Ash insisted you aren’t to be left alone until this is settled.”

“I can handle it.” Macy straightened her shoulders. “I was thrown off when everything started, mainly because I had no idea what was happening. Now, though, I’ve got this. You don’t have to babysit me.”

“I’ve got my orders, Macy.” Brett picked up his hat and stared out at the parking lot. “Ash wants me here, so here I’ll stay. The two of us are more than equal to a few pushy reporters and Sweetwater’s finest troublemakers.”

Of course they were.

“Business goes on, even when scandal hits.” She tapped the reports she’d intended to power through before the phone started ringing. “I’ve got plenty to do. The open house is less than two weeks away, and this place is not close to ready. When we show off the new education panels that Ash has been working so hard on, I want this whole building to shine. I want the parking lot to be filled to overflowing with our neighbors from Sweetwater. With no Ash bothering me to find things in clear sight on his desk, I should make record time.” Except she and Ash were a team. Working without him wasn’t easy.

“He’ll get here as soon as he can. You know he loves this place.” Brett pointed at the small office he used whenever he was in the ranger station. “I’ll catch up on some paperwork. You call me if things escalate or you need help.”

Macy saluted, but paused before digging into her most urgent task.

It had taken a long time to find the place that fit her like a perfectly tailored dress. In the end, she’d had to make it for herself, but she had it now. As work spaces went, hers ruled. Cramped offices formed a ring on three sides of the airy lobby which was filled with educational panels about the flora and fauna of the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve. Ruthlessly straightened and organized maps and pamphlets lined the wall across from her desk. Everything was in reach, which made it simple to keep the place running smoothly.

The boxes stacked in the corner had been annoying her for a week. Ever since she’d met a large snake in the small outbuilding used for storage, Macy refused to enter it. Ash had moved these boxes in for her recently because it was time to put out the holiday decorations.

After Ash’s reports were done, she’d get on that. It would distract her from the strange tension in the air.

Ash Kingfisher was as much a part of the fabric of the ranger station as the chair she sat in, the view out the windows and the easy peace she felt when she walked into the lobby. Without him grumbling away at his desk, everything was slightly askew. His absence left a hole.

Her only option? “Get to work, Macy Elizabeth Gentry. There’s no time for moodiness.” She could hear the words in her grandmother’s no-nonsense voice, so she straightened in her chair, set about clearing her missed calls and then compiling the visitor stats for Ash’s review.

When he came back into the office, he was going to be impressed with what she’d pulled off. She would raise some stink over being initially left out of the loop, and then things would return to normal.


CHAPTER TWO (#u2148c765-fca1-5954-b421-07bd37e73ddb)

ASH 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.”


CHAPTER THREE (#u2148c765-fca1-5954-b421-07bd37e73ddb)

GETTING OUT OF the visitor center had seemed like a good idea until Macy had to decide where to go. Most days, she spent her lunch hour at her desk. The only difference between a lunch hour and a regular hour was the addition of a turkey sandwich and the fruit of the day.

After three days cooped up and Ash’s return—which should have made everything right, but instead filled the air with a new kind of tension—Macy had to do something different. The urge to change things up was getting stronger, but she wasn’t sure where to start. Escape, temporary though it was, was a first step.

“A beautiful day for eating at the campground diner. No phones. No worrying over Ash.” For December, it was beautiful weather. Sunny. Warm enough to forget that Christmas was lurking somewhere in the near distance.

Although spending the holiday alone meant it was pretty much like any other day.

Except there was no work. No ranger station.

No distraction.

No Ash.

“But it gives you plenty of time to catch up on all your projects, Macy Elizabeth. Free time is a luxury you better appreciate.” Even her grandmother would have taken off Christmas Day. All the chores could wait. Since she was the last of her particular branch of Gentrys and holidays could be lonely, Macy had already decided she’d spend the holiday hiking Yanu Falls. Getting outside of her apartment would be required.

Her inability to name any projects she was dying to finish was something she needed to think about. She’d moved to Sweetwater when Administrative Services had offered her a permanent position running the visitor information desk at the Otter Lake Ranger Station. During her first year with the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve, she’d bounced around locations, doing a wide variety of temporary assignments. The job she had now, managing the visitor center and administration support, fit her best. Even the months she’d spent in the district office in Knoxville had been less satisfying, although some people would think the ranger station was a step down.

The minute she’d signed a lease on a one-bedroom apartment in town, Macy knew she’d found her home.

Friends were easy enough to claim in the small town. Odella at the coffee shop remembered how she ordered her coffee. She and Astrid, the town’s librarian, had spent many a Friday night at The Branch bemoaning the town’s lack of night life.

And then there was Ash, the man who...

Approved her timesheets.

Looked like he wanted to pat her on the head now and then.

Needed her.

Enough wasting time, Macy.

That familiar voice in her head belonged to her no-nonsense grandmother. Gran had been easy enough for Macy to love, but the whole town of Myrtle Bend, Georgia, and the three cousins Macy claimed there had always trembled when she drove down Main Street.

Gran had been fierce. Tough. Some days, Macy had to remind herself that fierce made people uncomfortable. As long as she’d remembered that, that it was easier to get along than follow in Gran’s tradition, making Sweetwater home had been easy enough.

Still, she’d be fighting that bossy voice in her head until she died.

“Lunch is an hour, Macy. Quit wasting precious seconds,” she muttered to herself, a bad habit she wasn’t even trying to break.

After days alone at work and at home, Macy was ready to make conversation. The campground diner would have food and people, so it was an easy choice.

As Macy pulled into the deserted parking lot, she worried the diner was somehow closed for business that day. Then she realized if anyone should know the schedule for the Otter Lake Campground convenience store-slash-marina-slash-diner, it would be her. She could recite the hours with a second’s notice, both winter and summer.

Normally, at least one or two cars would be parked in front of the glass doors, even in winter.

“Business must be slower than usual.” Macy slid out of the car and marched inside. “I should do this more often.” For some reason, she’d always imagined a wild lunch rush, filled with loud conversations and not enough time.

When Christina Braswell turned to greet her, Macy was relieved. They didn’t know each other well, but Christina was a familiar face, and they had a built-in topic of easy conversation: Christina’s boyfriend, Ranger Brett Hendrix. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Macy said.

“Yeah, I usually handle the breakfast shift, but Luisa asked me to stay later this week because she’s on vacation. If she’d known how few people would be through here, she might have shut the place down.” Christina held her arms wide. “Pick a spot. Any spot. I suggest the large booth by the window. I can stretch out my legs.”

Did that mean she was joining Macy? Macy had only planned to order something to go. Ash was no good with the phones and if a reporter came in...

Do something different, Macy. He’s a grown man, not a child. Ash Kingfisher would not appreciate her rushing back because she was afraid he couldn’t handle being left alone.

“Come on. This once, have a lunch here. At a table. With refilled drinks and everything.” Christina folded her hands beneath her chin. “Please. It’s so slow. I’m begging.”

Macy laughed. “Okay. I’ll take the best seat in the house and your finest club sandwich, all the fries you have and a big glass of tea. Might as well do this right.” Even out-of-towner Macy had been warned about wild Christina Braswell. Apparently, the people of Sweetwater had long memories, because all the stories she’d heard featured a teenage girl out of control. Granted, Macy’s grandmother would have rained down fire if she’d ever been caught stealing. People changed. Macy had seen nothing but positive things from Christina, and the way she clapped her hands in delight when Macy slid into the booth was just charming.

Brett Hendrix was one of the best guys she knew. All signs pointed to people being dead wrong about Christina.

Never let people tell you what you can see with your own eyes, Macy. Her grandmother’s impatience for all types of foolishness meant she never fell for stupid gossip.

“Friendly company.” Christina pointed at her. “I knew I liked you. Monroe, put the cookie dough away. We’ve got a lunch to make.” She turned around to slip an order through the window to the kitchen and then banged around making Macy’s drink.

“The kid’s been testing cookie recipes for your open house. He mans the grill well enough, but he was born to bake.”

“I only asked for drinks. Tea and hot chocolate.” When she’d finagled a yes out of Ash for the open house and managed to get the chief ranger’s approval, Macy hadn’t wanted to push the cost or overdo on the details.

“You ordered drinks as I recall,” Christina answered. “If we were busy, Luisa would have never offered to do cookies, too, but we aren’t and Monroe makes a mean chocolate chip.”

Christina set a glass on the table as Macy’s phone lit up with a text. It said, Pecan pie. Please.

She shook her head. The man could issue an order using a meager two words in a text. That please had been a tacked-on afterthought.

It was a sign of growth.

Macy sighed. “And make sure I leave here with at least one slice of pecan pie.” It was a good thing she knew her boss so well. Ash was having a hard day. Things were weird at work and between them, but he could still count on her. Pie always helped.

He depended on her to understand that. “No problem. Brett never delivers bad news without a slice of pie in hand. Plenty of news lately, and it does seem kinda bad.” Christina hurried behind the counter to box up the pie. She brought a white to-go bag and two beautiful sandwiches to Macy. “I guess I was waiting to have lunch today for a good reason.”

When they’d doctored the fries with ketchup and had both taken satisfying bites, they turned to stare out over the calm water of Otter Lake.

“It’s nice to be slow sometimes. I like a chance to enjoy this view.” Christina sipped her water and stretched slowly. “I like sitting down even more.”

“I could not do what you do.” Macy shook her head. Life at the ranger station was about silence and peace, broken only by the occasional visitor and the chance to tell them all about the reserve she loved. Sometimes school groups came in and the racket nearly blew the ceiling off, but there was something about the enthusiasm of kids that made it bearable. Loud, pushy adults set Macy’s teeth on edge. “Your job is hard. Remembering who ordered what. Juggling plates and chairs and all the coming and going. Being nice to people for all that time.”

“I am a wonder, it’s true.” Christina grinned. As she chewed, she said, “Pretty sure I used to be the world’s worst waitress, though.”

“What changed?” Macy asked before she took another bite. Seriously. Why didn’t she do this more? It was a sandwich, nothing special, but it tasted better than any meal she’d had in... She couldn’t even remember. Had to be the atmosphere.

“Well...” Christina wiped her mouth. “Couple things changed. I needed to keep the job.” She held up a finger. “Very important discovery. Then, I realized how little it takes to make people happy. Remembering an order or calling someone by name or relaying a tidbit of a story. That’s it. They’re convinced I’m awesome, even if I forget they asked for mayo on the side.”

Macy nodded. “Doesn’t hurt that a handsome man comes through at least once a day to kiss you, either.” She grinned. “Right?”

“It has certainly added to my current job satisfaction. Life is weird.” Christina sighed before attacking her lunch again.

Macy laughed, having thought the same thing for most of the morning. She and Christina ate in silence. Every now and then, a slow ripple in the water sent a bright flash across the table in reflection. “This is nice. I’d be satisfied here, too.”

“Your view at the station’s pretty good. Green trees. Enough handsome ranger action to keep the blood perking. We’re lucky to be surrounded by beauty.” Christina balled her napkin up and stretched back with a sigh as she extended her legs. “Brett says some of the chaos has died down.”

“Yeah, Ash is back to work. I wonder if the calm will hold when word gets out.” Macy shrugged. “I’ll keep an eye out if those reporters come back around.”

Christina fiddled with her straw wrapper. “The way gossip spreads around here, there may be a news caravan already headed your way. It’s all the locals will talk about lately. Especially whether Ash Kingfisher is responsible for delaying the lodge project that everyone’s hoping will bring more people and therefore more dollars to the area. The crowds through here have disappeared. Only the diehards like Woody, Janet and Regina have been coming in for breakfast. Tourists?” She shrugged. “Not enough to speak of right now. According to Woody, there’s a lot of pot stirring in town, calling for locals to boycott the whole Reserve, including the campground, until Ash admits he’s behind this leaked report. The Callaways will replace him, get the lodge back on schedule, and in will pour the jobs. Brett says when the number of visitors drop and the revenues drop, the district office will want to know why. If all of Sweetwater is pointing at Ash, it could mean trouble.” She glanced around the restaurant. “See how all the talk in town is working out here?”

Macy leaned against the booth and considered what Christina was saying and what she meant. “I’m not surprised. People holding protest signs is something I’ve never seen in Sweetwater before, but they showed up earlier this week out at the ranger station. They don’t know him like I do.”

Macy returned to studying the golden ripples of Otter Lake. The only thing she was certain of was that Ash Kingfisher had nothing to do with the current drama.

Was she wrong?

“The whole town depends on the tourists the Reserve brings in. The lodge will bring in even more. It makes sense that people are concerned. The mission matters less than the money,” Christina said softly. “They want somebody to be at fault, so they can get rid of ’em and convince themselves everything’s perfect in their small town. I’ve seen it before.” In the sunlight, Christina was pretty, gorgeous even, but her serious eyes worried Macy. Even with Brett’s support for Ash, it seemed Christina had her doubts.

“He didn’t do it. Ash has been vocal about his objections to this lodge all along, mainly because of the habitat it will destroy. To build up on The Aerie? It makes no sense. New road. A bridge over the valley, plus the clearing in one of the oldest areas of the Reserve. He was doing his job to object. Anyone who thinks he’d play politics to get what he wanted is wrong.” Macy leaned forward. “Is that what you’re thinking?” Storming out was a possibility, but Macy’s excellent lunch was slowing her down.

Christina snorted. “Me? No way. Brett would say the same in front of a firing squad. He trusts Ash and I trust him. The rest of Sweetwater, though? Man, you would not believe the things I’ve heard from the morning crowd. Gossip starts out simple enough, but it doesn’t take long to get ugly. Believe me, I’ve studied it for a long time. Got the first complaint about me for the month for setting someone straight about Ash.”

“It’s a good thing Ash doesn’t care about ridiculous gossip like that.” Macy dug around in her purse for cash. She needed to get back to work.

“Sure.” Christina rolled her eyes. “Brett would be having a crisis if anyone said the same of him, but Ash... Well, he’s kind of a mystery, anyway. Doubt he’s even heard it, lucky guy.”

Macy paused. “What does that mean?”

Christina wrinkled her nose. “Hermit. That was the word I heard someone use. Do those even exist anymore? Must be nice to not have to care about what people say because you don’t have to hear it, you know?”

Annoyed at first, Macy forced herself to settle and take in the scenery.

“So...what? That convinces people he’s guilty? They don’t know him.” If they did, they’d brush the story off like tabloid trash.

“Listen, girl, if there’s anyone in this town who’ll step up beside you to protest the way people jump to judgy conclusions, it’s me.” Christina pointed at her face. “Doesn’t change the fact that they can’t be talked out of what they think. They have to see it.” She leaned forward. “They need to see him more. I told Brett that, but he laughed like he does when his son tells knock-knock jokes. That’s what’s changing people’s minds about me and about his wild, bad ex-wife, Leanne. They see us working hard, raising good kids. It’s hard to believe a story when the evidence right in front of your face tells you something different.”

“How? How would we even show Sweetwater a different side of Ash?” Macy crossed her arms over her chest. “He works hard at the Reserve. Long hours.”

“Right. And that’s all. The last big splash Ash made was when he fell climbing the cliff below Yanu Falls.” She shivered. “Why would anyone want to climb up it? When we were in high school, I went out there with Travis Riggs after the Reserve had closed for the night, and he told a ghost story I’ve never forgotten. How many other girls did that move work on?” Christina shook her head. “Not important. It’s too bad Sam Blackburn took that job in Colorado. That guy could say Ash was better than Tennessee whiskey and people would believe the golden boy. Without him, that leaves... Brett. You, I guess.” She wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t an impressive number of people.

“Doesn’t matter. He will never go for... What would you even call that? A publicity makeover? He’s innocent. This will all work out. It has to.” Ash hated the unnecessary mess and noise of most people.

Unless it had to do with introducing them to the natural wonders of the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve.

“I hope you’re right and it happens fast. This place needs Sweetwater showing up here and ordering the usual. Brett respects Ash more than anyone else he knows. He doesn’t want to lose the best boss he’s ever had.”

Macy straightened in her seat. “You think Ash could lose his job, too?” No way. There was no way the Reserve would let silly things like unsubstantiated rumors lead to firing a man who served like Ash did. “Surely this will blow over. The news is dying down already.”

Brett had mentioned the possibility that Ash’s job could be in danger, but it made no sense to Macy. If the Callaways never came to their senses, surely the law would. Ash had done nothing wrong.

“No idea. To be clear, I do not understand how politics and power work because they’ve never been a part of my circle, but I know what I hear. It’s like they’re trying to make him the face of this.” Christina frowned. “It seems to me that might be a bad sign.”

“Yeah.” And if Ash left the Otter Lake Ranger Station, what would happen to the spot she’d made for herself? Technically, she was part of an administrative pool that served all of the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve’s different areas. Ash wasn’t her boss per se, but he was the person in charge of the ranger station. Until he wasn’t.

They could leave her there and a new ranger would take over or they could reassign her.

But it wasn’t about the paycheck.

What would she do without Ash?

They had worked together for years. In the early days, she’d annoyed more rangers than she liked by insisting she knew better. With Ash, they could butt heads but never go too far. She’d learned to trust the guy implicitly.

That put him at the top of a short list. Macy didn’t need much to get by, just a good job and a safe place to sleep at night.

And Ash.

Christina tapped the bag. “Pie’s on me.” She bent forward. “I believe you, hon, you do know Ash Kingfisher as well as anyone. Because you work for him.” Christina raised an eyebrow.

Macy frowned as she deciphered what the last bit meant. “Yes. I work for him.”

Christina made the “go on” motion with both hands. “Okay. I wondered if there was something else.” She wagged her eyebrows. “Guy his age and general handsomeness... Seems like he’d have a special woman in his life. Does he?” The way she drew out the words made Macy think of a curious cat, one tail flip the only sign it was intent on prey.

“Huh?”

“You two... Just coworkers?” Christina tipped her head to the side. “Because whoever he dates could have some serious ability to revamp his image. If that’s you, drag him out of his cave. Go to dinner. Have breakfast here. Easy. People see him around, they start to think they know him. If it’s not you, we could find him one.” She scooped up the empty dishes from their table. “Know anybody important? Maybe a woman who could help him if this is political?” Then she straightened. “Janet Abernathy.”

Since Janet Abernathy had to be in her midsixties, Macy said, “Don’t you think she’s too—” she dropped her voice “—old for Ash?”

Christina paused and then hooted with laughter. “I meant she might have some suggestions.” Then she frowned. “Ash has gotta be...fifty? It still might work.”

Macy closed her eyes and counted to ten. “There’s no chance Ash is fifty. Winter is barely thirty.” She didn’t know how old Ash was, hadn’t ever considered it.

“You’re right.” Christina nodded. “I have not heard a single tidbit of gossip about Winter’s engagement. I wonder how that’s going.” Christina was deep in thought as she took the dishes into the kitchen.

Macy turned back to the water and considered Christina’s suggestions. Revamp his image, convince him to date a woman who liked to go out a lot. Wouldn’t it be easier to find the person who’d passed the report to the governor? They could prove Ash was innocent, the Callaways would acknowledge his loyalty and whatever happened with the lodge...happened.

Macy could see both sides of the argument: protecting the animals and habitat on the Reserve versus the economic advantage of a nice new lodge. As long as she could keep things the same at the station, she was prepared to be practical about it all.

Easier than finding the perfect woman for Ash Kingfisher, certainly.

Just the thought of some mysterious woman out there, waiting to fall in love with Ash, irritated her.

“Thanks for the advice, Christina,” Macy said as she slid out of the booth. Standing next to tall beautiful Christina Braswell made Macy feel a tiny bit frumpy in her uniform, but it was required.

“About staying for lunch? No problem. You chose literally the best thing on the menu.” Christina rang up her ticket and then took the cash Macy slid across to her.

“I meant about giving Sweetwater someone else to talk about.” Macy shrugged. “And possibly a light PR makeover. Forget the girlfriend.”

“Because you’ve already got that covered?” Christina asked slyly.

“No. Besides, that’s up to Ash.”

“You’ll meddle but only so far.” Christina pursed her lips. “I get that. I respect that.”

“It’s helping a friend... A good boss. It’s in my best interest to keep him in place.” Macy waved as she headed for the door. Really. That was all this was. It made perfect, logical sense that no girlfriend would be required and that she could help Ash navigate Sweetwater herself.

“Got any ideas who might be responsible for sending the report?” Christina called out, but Macy stepped outside and pretended not to hear her.

She didn’t, but it seemed to her that the only other person central to the mess was Winter Kingfisher. She’d grown up at the Reserve, like Ash. That had to mean a strong connection to the land, one that might make it necessary to put a stop to the project.

Anonymity would be a plus for Winter if she wanted to stop the building and marry her fiancé. What if she loved both, the Callaway heir running for governor and the Reserve?

How would she even go about investigating this theory? Winter was in Knoxville. Ash would turn to fire if she suggested Winter had played a part.

Macy could count on one hand the number of conversations she’d had with Ash’s younger, ambitious sister. Making this happen could take some planning.

When Christina stepped out behind her, Macy scrambled for a way to end further suggestion of a romance between her and Ash, but the waitress held out the white bag she’d packed. “Pie. Don’t forget it. Ash might grumble.”

Macy dipped her chin to acknowledge her thanks and then marched around to the driver’s side of her car. Christina’s grin was big as she rested against the diner.

Ash would grumble, anyway, but the pie would be a bright spot in a long day. He’d asked for it. She was only doing a favor.

And the next big, big favor she was going to do for Ash he’d never expect. She was going to find another suspect, someone to lend some support to his denial of guilt.

That person couldn’t be Winter Kingfisher, not even for Ash’s protection. Ash was proud of his sister. Even if Winter was responsible for the leak, Ash was the kind of hero to take the fall to save her engagement.

That didn’t change the fact that Macy was certain the next step was to talk to Ash’s sister.


CHAPTER FOUR (#u2148c765-fca1-5954-b421-07bd37e73ddb)

JUMPING EVERY TIME the phone rang had gotten old early on. Doing it for two days straight was enough to make Ash irritable as a wounded bear. The number of phone calls he’d returned had to be reaching world records. Halfway through the afternoon on Thursday, he wished he’d started counting the number of times he’d said some version of “I don’t know the answer to your question” and “Direct all requests for information about Smoky Valley Nature Reserve business to the district office in Knoxville” and “I have no further comments.” Over and over, on a loop.

The question he hated the most was “Who else had access to the report and good reason to slip it to Whit Callaway’s opponent?”

The answer to the first part of the question was short: the team that had prepared the report, his sister and Macy. That was it.

Ash studied the list of names on the report. A couple of hours of research on the scientists and engineers involved had turned up no obvious red flags. Before he’d commissioned this team to prepare the environmental impact study, he’d done his research, determined to hire only the best experts on the Great Smoky Mountains.

Short of making public accusations with no evidence to back it up, he was out of ideas.

That, along with hiding behind his desk for too long, made him short-tempered.

Since Macy was one of the few people left who’d have his back in a gunfight, he hated that he was snapping at her.

Fridays were normally nice, the coming weekend lifting everyone’s spirits. Guides had been in and out, preparing for the busiest days of the week, Friday and Saturday. None had stopped by to say hello. The cloud above his head had dampened the ranger station’s mood. Even the mailman, a guy who normally sang a Friday song of his own composing, had come and gone with a subdued “Have a nice weekend.” Macy’s reply had been too quiet for him to hear at his desk.

It was time for a break from his office. He stood, straightened his shoulders, prepared to pretend he wasn’t nervous about his reception and headed out to Macy’s desk.

“Did you come by to tell me that my plans for the open house are terrible and you’re not sure how I ever got this job in the first place?” Macy asked sweetly. “Because that’s definitely where this day is headed.”

“I’ve been short-tempered. I’m sorry.” He didn’t apologize often enough for it to be easy. In fact, the words burned all the way down his throat. Her reaction told him his pain was obvious.

“Well, now,” Macy drawled, amusement making her lips twitch, “I can tell it’s genuine because you seem horrified that this apology is happening.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve been trying to be patient.”

Ash pinched the brim of his hat. “You don’t do patient.”

“I do not. What I do instead is make sure everything is moving along. I’ve confirmed refreshments and that the press release for the open house went out. I’ve made invitations for the shops on Main Street to display. I’ve already contacted them by phone, so this is just a reminder. Maybe they’ll talk up the open house to all their shoppers this week. I will deliver them ASAP. I have talked with Brett about security and Hank about the tours running that evening.” Macy pursed her lips. “I did all that while you snarled at every question. This place looks great. These displays you researched and put together about the animals in the park and how they weather the cold temperatures are good. Interesting. Informative. You’ve worked hard to prepare a program to draw visitors in. I want to show off the displays. For you. You do so much here. Let’s blow the horn about it. Stop acting like a frazzled toddler, okay? Or else. And I mean that with respect and as a genuine threat.” She’d relaxed in her chair, although her eyes still glinted like she was ready to murder him with a million tiny papercuts, but she reached across the desk to squeeze his hand. Before she could pull away, he wrapped his fingers around hers.

And everything settled.

For him, this public attention was too much, too strange, and it rattled him. Macy calmed all that. The connection between them was strong. Too strong for a little thing like his ruined reputation, and snapping at her, to break it. She released his hand, and he was surprised at how much he hated the feeling of her hand slipping away.

“I appreciate it.” Ash forced himself to move away from her desk. His boots on the ground. That was the only way to know, day to day, what was happening in the Reserve. Visitation and incident reports, revenues, those told only part of the story. Driving through the trailhead lots, talking with visitors, making sure he remembered all the people behind the statistics mattered. Those people, this place, made him love his job.

And he needed to get out of the office. It seemed his staff was also avoiding him. Only Brett had stuck his head in so far all day long. Were they convinced he’d anonymously sabotaged the lodge, too?

Here, he could avoid...whatever. He wasn’t sure what the consequences within the ranks would be of the firestorm that had yet to fade.

“Are you headed out to patrol?” Macy asked. “Patrol” was her word for his “making the rounds.” He was a law enforcement ranger, but most of what he did was management instead of enforcement.

They both knew he had to spend time on the trails of the Reserve to make it through some days. She’d been telling him he needed to do that at least once an hour all morning.

Being a part of the Reserve’s team was important to him. His first job at the Reserve had been summer help at the marina, and he’d loved it, but being able to combine the service of a policeman with the mission of the park had been his calling. When attendance was up, having another park ranger SUV on the roads and uniforms actually in the campground and on the trails, with the signature hat and holstered weapon, kept troublemakers on their best behavior.

Today, this “patrol” was just for him.

“The fire chief wants me to check out the photography backdrop you commandeered for the open house. I’m not sure why we couldn’t stand next to a...tree or something to have our pictures taken with the kids, but I’ll bow to your creative planning. I also don’t know why I have to do it when it’s your...” Her cleared throat interrupted the flow which was a good thing. She’d raised one eyebrow. “Then, I’ll head into Knoxville to the district office. We’ve got to get a full-time park guide on staff to handle the volunteers and part-time guides, and Chief McKesson’s had a personnel request in for weeks. We both need the chief ranger’s approval to move forward.”

Macy nodded, but the fear that he could remember in her eyes during their early days flitted across his memory. She’d always been able to eventually control it. After all this time, Ash had decided that Macy Gentry only feared one thing: failure. He’d seen less of that fear lately; he wanted to keep it that way.

“I bet the phones at the district office have been busy. Surely that’s the holdup. I’m guessing the chief ranger doesn’t like the lodge’s construction delay. He’ll be hustling to get everything back on track. I can’t believe anybody in Knoxville would blame you for all this.” Macy propped her hands on her hips. “It beats all I ever saw.”

Her loyalty was a nice boost. “All you ever saw, huh? You must be from around here.” He liked to tease her about how she spoke. Most days, Macy was completely professional, letting little of her firecracker personality slip through to anyone but him. Being that person to Macy was nice.

“My grandmother used to say that. She had this little run-down farmhouse with enough land to kill us both as we tried to keep up the garden.” Macy slumped back against her chair. “I’ll never forget the torment of picking green beans in the hot sun. Can’t even eat those suckers from a can now.”

Ash leaned an elbow on the high ledge of her desk. They didn’t do a lot of personal talk, so this glimpse was rare and sweeter for it. The lilt of her voice changed when she talked about home. Listening to her talk was easy.

“Why don’t I know where you grew up?” Ash asked, surprised there was something he needed to know about Macy. They’d talked about all the favorites: music, movies, books, candy bars, ice creams and assorted baked goods.

But he didn’t know where her family was.

Where a person came from could tell a lot about them.

“Myrtle Bend, Georgia. About thirty miles from nowhere and as fancy as you’d imagine. At least the indoor plumbing came along before I did.” Macy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like to talk about my family or lack of one too much. That’s probably why.”

Ash had a hard time picturing such a place. He’d grown up on a very nice street in the middle of Sweetwater, the kind of place people imagine when they daydream about the good old days.

“Do you ever go home?” Ash asked.

He’d helped her move. She made him coffee every morning just because. Once he’d asked his mother to make chicken noodle soup for her, even though Macy refused to take a sick day.

He knew Macy. So well.

But they’d never talked about her history. Why was that?

“No home to go back to. Home is my apartment in Sweetwater.” Macy cleared her throat. “Grandma died when I was nineteen, so...” She shrugged a shoulder. “I was the only one left. Had college and bills and I couldn’t keep up the place, too.” She tipped her head down. “She wouldn’t have wanted me to give up school just to keep a small farmhouse. I’m pretty sure.” The way she bit her lip suggested she wasn’t as certain as she wanted to be.

Uneasy because the emotions were changing so quickly on her face that he was afraid she was about to be overwhelmed, Ash said, “Surely she’d want you to be happy.”

Macy frowned. “Actually, happiness wasn’t high on her list of priorities. Busyness. Usefulness. Those things ruled, and she had zero tolerance for anything that interfered.”

Ash considered that. It was so far outside of his own experience, he had a hard time imagining it. When he was growing up, his mother had taken him out of school so that he could experience perfect weather or she’d kept him up too late watching shooting stars to make his first period and she’d refused to let him take a required shop class because the main project was a gun rack.

For Donna Kingfisher, life was about loving each day. Work was a part of that, but not the biggest part. She’d been a successful lawyer, but she’d retired at sixty, determined not to miss out on all the things she’d been putting off. His father had put on a suit and tie and been an accountant at the electric company for forty years.





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