Still feeling on the verge of a good cry, I manage a weak smile. “Darn it. I already challenged a bunch of local high school kids to a street race.”
She laughs. “That I’d like to see.”
“Stupid soap,” I mutter.
“Yeah. You might want to lay off the oatmeal honey for a while.”
“I can’t believe I left it in the car. I know better. I’m the one in charge of lecturing the visitors on bear safety. How could I be so stupid?”
“We all make mistakes. It’s just a car. No one was hurt or killed.”
If only she were right. This car is more than a vehicle. It’s a symbol of my independence and success, as modest as it may be.
A big, fat tear escapes down my cheek. I hide the evidence by lifting my mug and taking a long chug of hot liquid. The coffee burns more than usual, and I sputter and cough.
“Sorry. I should’ve warned you I added some Bailey’s. Figured you could use more than caffeine on a morning like this.” Gaia lifts her own cup and sips.
“Little early for drinking, don’t you think?”
She shrugs. “No comment.”
Now that I’m prepared, I drink more slowly, savoring the sweet burn from the alcohol.
Griffin joins us, his hair still messy from sleep. “Mornin.”
“Hi.” I give him a small wave.
Not glancing at him, Gaia mumbles hello without enthusiasm.
“Car’s totaled, huh?” He drinks from his own steaming mug.
“Yep.” I rock back on my heels and then up on my toes. “Spectacularly eviscerated.”
He nods. “We should definitely take pictures and share them as a warning. I don’t think people understand how destructive bears can be. They’re not all cuteness and cuddles like we’ve been lead to believe.”
“Good idea,” Gaia praises. “Someone could post it on social media as an example.”
As the someone she means, I groan. “Can we at least leave my identity out of it?”
“Of course.” His warm smile is full of empathy. “You should call Cletus.”
“I think even this might be too much for the Winstons to fix.”
“His brother Beau loves a challenge, but you’re right. I was thinking they could help you find a replacement.” Griffin’s eyes hold hope.
“Unless they know of a car that’s cheaper than free, I’ll have to stick with Gaia’s offer to use one of the park vehicles—not that I have to go anywhere more exciting that the Piggly Wiggly. I’ll make do until I can save up.”
“No insurance?” he asks.
With a sigh, I finish off my coffee. “High deductible. What’s the point in paying premiums if I can’t afford to make a claim?”
“I hear that.” He lifts his mug. “Welcome to America.”
I don’t know whether to thank him for his empathy or remind him I’m American too. Instead, I heave another sigh and hand my empty cup to Gaia. “I should see if there’s anything salvageable and then call for a tow truck.”
“Or we could see if it starts and park it by the campground.” Griffin steps closer to the car.
“Not sure that’s an option. Wires were pulled from the dashboard.” I open the door and point at the tangled mess.
“Keys?” He holds out his hand.
I give them to him.
After unlocking the doors, he slides the seat back and slips inside. “One for the money, two for the show. Three to get ready and four to go.”
When he turns the key, nothing happens.
“That’s disappointing. We need someone who can hotwire a car. Don’t suppose either of you have experience?”
Gaia and I both shake our heads.
“Shame.” He frowns and stares down the drive. “Ah, here’s someone who can probably help us.”
Griffin stands and greets Odin who walks out of the mist accompanied by his pig.
“What are you doing here?” My shame and embarrassment cause my voice to sound overly harsh and unwelcoming.
“Mornin to you too. Patsy and I decided to take a walk around the loop today. She was craving acorns.” Odin lifts his baseball cap by the brim to adjust it before replacing it back on his head. Patsy tips her head back, her nose wiggling as she sniffs.
Griffin gives her a scratch on the top of her head, and she snuffles his palm.
“What’s going on here?” Odin asks, leaning down to peer through the window.
“Bear,” Griffin tells him.
“Ahh.” Odin walks a circuit around the trash heap formerly known as my car. “Someone leave food inside?”
“Soap, actually,” Gaia explains.
“Honey oatmeal,” I add..
Odin’s warm brown eyes meet my gaze. “Yours?”
“Was.”
“Ouch.”
Blinking back yet more tears, I twist my head away from the wreckage and his judgment.
“Pity.” Odin worries his bottom lip. His concern appears genuine, but as I learned last night, appearances can be deceiving. The soap incident has distracted me from my internet search, but it all comes back now that I’m face to face with him.
“We’re going to use it as a lesson for visitors,” Griffin explains. “Silver lining.”
“Insurance?”
Shaking my head, I don’t elaborate. I can’t have this conversation again. “I need to get ready for my shift.”
“Right. We all have a busy day ahead. Odin, you think you can splice the wires to get the engine to start? We want to move the vehicle over to the campground.”
“Why would you think I know how to do that?” Odin asks.
Griffin snorts. “Seriously?”
Odin removes his baseball cap and runs his hand through his hair. “It’s been almost twenty years, but I can give it a shot—if that’s okay with Daphne.”
I barely meet his eyes before shrugging. “You can’t make it any worse.”
“Actually, if it caught fire, that would be worse. We’d have to get the fire crew over to put it out.”
“Griffin.” Gaia chastises him with a single look.
“Oh, right. Sorry, Daphne.”
“Let’s get more coffee. I still have half a pot left.” Gaia touches my elbow. “We have time before your shift.”
Once we’re inside her cabin, I turn to Gaia, finally able to ask the questions bubbling inside me since Odin’s appearance.
“Do they come to the park often? Isn’t that weird? Are pigs even allowed? Dogs can’t be on trails, but what are the rules about other pets?”
“So many questions.” She gives me a quizzical look.
“He walks a pig on a leash—how could I not be curious?”
“They avoid the official trails and crowds. Otherwise, they’re not causing trouble.”
Neither of those sentences provide answers. It’s unlike Gaia.
“A pet pig is less of an issue than the wild boars in the park, less dangerous, and Patsy doesn’t cause damage. We should be more worried about bears who might develop a taste for honey and oatmeal. We’ll need to file a report with Dr. Runous about the bear destroying your car. Can you handle printing and distributing flyers about the incident? We’ll need to be extra vigilant about bear cans and bags. If the bear comes back, we might need to take steps to relocate or euthanize.” She finishes her lecture as she refills our cups with coffee then holds up the bottle of Bailey’s.
“Thanks.”
Pointing to her couch, she settles into an arm chair. “Why are you so concerned about Patsy?”
“Besides the fact he’s flouting the park rules?” My dander is up and I’m not willing to put it back down just yet.
“I don’t believe pigs are specifically mentioned in the bylaws. Oscar the donkey escapes and roams around on occasion. I’ve never heard you complain about him.”
Her point is valid.
“Because he’s an animal that doesn’t know better.”
“Could it be more about Odin?” Peering over her mug, she si
ps her coffee.
Dear lord in heaven, I really do not want to discuss my feelings with her. “Why would you ask?”
“You act different around him. Your face gets pinched like you’ve eaten something sour. And you touch your hair a lot, which tells me he makes you nervous. Or …”
I drop my hand into my lap. “Habit.”
“… you’re flirting with him.”
“Pfft,” I scoff.
“Yeah. I didn’t think so.” Her eyes are knowing and wise.
A knock sounds on her door.
“Come in,” she shouts, without moving from her chair.
Odin’s head appears around the jamb and his eyes seek me out in the room. “Hey. Sorry to interrupt. We got the car started and Griffin drove it to the station for now. Wanted to let you know.”
My fingers tug on the ends of my hair near my shoulder before I realize what I’m doing. I sit on my hand and refuse to look at Gaia.
“Uh, thanks,” I mumble.
He doesn’t leave, nor does he enter the room.
“Thanks for your help this morning,” Gaia tells him. She sounds genuinely grateful, particularly compared to my reluctant tone.
“Sure. Happy to help. Let me know if I can do anything else.” He meets my eyes. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Don’t be a stranger.” She’s all warm friendliness.
Through the screen door, I watch him walk away with Patsy beside him. Gaia sips her coffee, her eyes on me.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing really. I’ve seen Odin around for years, and I think this morning is the most I’ve ever heard him talk.”
“What do you mean? He was chatting up customers at the farmers’ market a couple of weeks ago. A genuine Mr. Chuckles.”
“He was working the booth?” She sits up and places her empty cup on the table next to her chair.
I bob my chin.
“Interesting.”
“That a farmer would be hawking his own vegetables?”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“Patsy was with there too.”
“Interesting.”
“How so?”
“Usually it’s a cousin or two, never Odin. He told me himself he avoids the ‘weekly circus’—his words, not mine—at all costs.”
“He seemed to be having a grand time.”
She picks up her cup and stares at the empty interior like she forgot she finished it. “Guess we should get ourselves ready. Unless you need the day off, which you’re welcome to do. Jay can cover the talks.”
“I should probably figure out how to file the report on the car. Otherwise, I’m fine.” Standing, I finish my lukewarm coffee. “Thanks for the caffeine.”
“You’re welcome. Go ahead and take a couple hours this morning. I’ll clear it with your boss.”
She chuckles, as do I.
I should be too dehydrated for more tears, but I feel gratitude for Gaia welling up within me. I say goodbye before I do something weird like hug her.
I spend an hour on hold with my insurance company before an agent eventually tells me to fill out the form online. Well, that was a waste of time.
After showering and putting on my uniform, I call Kacey while I walk to the station.
“Hi.” Her voice is gravelly and sounds half-asleep.
“Long night?”
“Karaoke. You know I always overdo it. What’s up?”
“A bear ate my car.” A wave of sadness hits me, and when I go to laugh off the absurdity of that statement, I choke.
“Are you kidding? How is that even possible?”
“Soap.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Were you in the car? Are you hurt? Are you in shock? Is anyone with you?” Her voice rises in panic.
For the hundredth time today, I swipe away tears. “I’m fine. The car was parked outside my cabin. I was in bed asleep.”
“Oh, thank God you’re okay.” She exhales audibly. “Hold on, what did you say about soap?”
“I left the consolation bars you bought me at the farmers’ market in the back seat. Apparently, bears like honey.”
“This is crazy. Your life is so different than mine.”
She’s not wrong.
“Is it salvageable?”
“No, the bear ate all of it. At least it was organic and made from goat’s milk so it shouldn’t be toxic.”
She laughs. “Not the soap. Your car.”
“Totaled.”
“Oh, Daphne. What are you going to do?”
I share Gaia’s offer and tell her about the guys helping this morning. “And then Odin showed up.”
By now I’ve reached the station and enter the building to make my way to my cubicle. I pass Amory on his way out and wave at him. Like Griffin, he’s always got a smile on his face and a happy pep about him.
Kacey’s frustrated voice brings my attention back to my phone. “Stop burying the lede. Wasn’t he there yesterday too?”
“He was.”
“He likes you.” She’s giddy.
“He was walking his pig.”
“Wasn’t the dog with him yesterday? What was the breed? I want to look it up. Unless you have pictures.”
Exasperated by her excitement, I mutter, “I did not take a photo of Odin’s dog. It’s something Italian.”
“I’ll just have to come up one weekend and meet him.”
“The dog?” I’m confused.
She laughs. “The man. Oops, I’m late for a meeting. Gotta go. Love you!”
I end my call with Kacey and feel Griffin staring at me.
“Uh, Daphne?” His voice holds confused amusement.
“Yes, Ranger Lee?”
“I won’t pretend I wasn’t overhearing your conversation.”
“Okay.” I try to replay my words to see if I said anything embarrassing.
“I’m not sure what kind of dogs you had out west, but here in the Smokies, we call that animal a pig, or a hog. Not to be confused with the wild boar.”
My eyes seek the sky through the layers of commercial ceiling tiles, insulation, plywood, and roofing shingles. “I know the difference between a pig and a dog.”
“No need to be curt. Seeing as how both can be seen being walked on a leash, there could be some confusion.” He gives a flippant shrug of his right shoulder.
“Really? People around here confuse canines and swine on a regular basis? Do they not teach the Old MacDonald song in pre-school? That’s a shame. However, it explains how you might assume someone could be confused.” My tone is snarkier than he deserves. I’m just in no mood to be teased today. Read the room, Griffin.
He levels me with a flat stare. “I grew up here.”
“And?” He’s not my boss, but he does have seniority over me. I probably shouldn’t keep poking the bear when it takes a swipe at me.
His nearly permanent smile fades. “May I give you a piece of advice?”
“Can I say no to this unsolicited tip?”
“If you want to make friends around here, I wouldn’t be mocking our education. If you haven’t noticed, we’re a touch sensitive about Appalachia’s reputation for being full of backwoods hillbillies and toothless yokels.”
First, I want to tell him, I’m not here to make friends. I have no interest in popularity. Second, it isn’t like I’m turning down social engagements due to my calendar being full. Third, everyone’s been nice to me and honestly, I could use more kindness in my life.
With a deep exhalation, I release some of the pent up frustration I shouldn’t be taking out on my coworker.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a rough morning. For the record, I’m not the one who accused someone of not knowing the difference between a pig and a dog.”
“Point made.”
“Also, Odin Hill has both a pig and a dog.”
“Good to know.” He turns his back to me.
Since we’re already on the subject, I might as well ask him.
“G
riffin?”
He slowly spins in my direction. “Yes?”
“If I suspect someone of breaking park regulations, but not necessarily any criminal laws, how should I proceed if I don’t have proof? Is there a procedure for an investigation that wouldn’t necessarily be official?”
He blinks a few times as he processes my convoluted question.
“Did you see something specific?”
“No, but a couple of things don’t add up.”
“You’re saying this wasn’t an isolated incident? Local or a visitor?”
“I’m not sure if there was an incident, but to answer your second question, yes, he’s a local.”
“Anyone I know?”
“He was walking his pig this morning and apparently knows how to hotwire a car.”
He nods with understanding, not surprise. “Ahh. Care to elaborate?”
“He was here yesterday with his dog, said they’d been hiking. Ignoring the dog on the trail issue, he had a heavy-looking backpack. When I asked him about it, he told me it was full of apples.”
“The fruit?” Griffin asks.
“I doubt it was miscellaneous iPhones and iPads.” Though I guess anything is possible. I’m not sure which would be weirder.
“That’s definitely odd.” His dark brows pull together.
“I thought maybe since you know him, you could follow up?”
“Sure thing.” Lost in thought, he focuses on the wall behind me.
“And Griffin?”
His eyes snap back to my face.
“Thanks for your help this morning.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I appreciate Odin’s assistance, too, and I don’t want him to get in trouble, but …” I’m not sure where I’m going with this. Do I tell him my theory about Patsy and the one random article I saw online but haven’t read?
He waves off my unfinished sentence. “Say no more. I’ll follow up.”
Chapter Thirteen
Daphne
The next week, Gaia and Dr. Runous hold an all-staff meeting about the bear incident. I feel guilty about being the reason everyone has to take time out of their day to gather in the conference room. I can hardly look the game warden in the eye while he reminds us to be on alert for a repeat offender. Once a bear gets a taste for people food, it’s likely to seek out more, and as we head into the cooler fall months, the bears will be looking for extra food before their winter hibernation begins.
Stranger Ranger: An Opposites Attract Romance (Park Ranger Book 2) Page 9