Her Heart's Bargain

by Cheryl Harper

  “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.

  But there was no doubt in Ash’s mind that his father had enjoyed his job and loved his life, too. Macy’s grandmother would have been appalled at how much time his family had spent sitting beside a campfire and staring up at the sky.

  This conversation also explained a lot about Macy. He wanted to introduce her to his mother, to ask his mother to take Macy under her wing. She deserved some of Donna Kingfisher’s wacky fun, moments that were about nothing more than enjoying life fully.

  How lucky he’d been to have that.

  Macy deserved some of that good luck.

  “Nobody works harder than you do. She’d be proud of you.” Ash had never seen anyone else as efficient at organization as Macy. She didn’t sit if she could straighten. If something was broken, she kept fiddling until it started again. And she couldn’t understand why everyone didn’t treat their jobs exactly the same way.

  “I hope so.” Macy laughed. “Even if she was still here, I’d have to guess that she was happy.”

  Uneasy with the emotion but determined to put some of the shine back in her eyes, Ash said, “If it helps, I think you’re amazing. At all this.” He gestured around awkwardly. “And I want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

  Her mouth dropped open before she shut it with a click. Ash ran a hand through the hair at his neck, while pink spotted her cheeks and his ears. He was terrible at speaking to women.

  “What happened to your parents?” Ash asked, desperate to change the subject to anything else.

  “They were long gone by the time I hit elementary school. Thus, Grandma and the garden of doom.” Macy tried to make it a joke, but none of the smile on her lips made it into her eyes. “She was no fun, but she was there.”

  He wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and squeeze her close, just to make sure she knew she wasn’t really alone. No one should be alone. Macy deserved a rambunctious family that she could lovingly organize.

  Macy took pity on him. “Your face, boss. It’s so...worried. It’s okay. I decided this week that it’s been too long since I’ve been to the top of Yanu. That’ll be my Christmas treat. I hike only because I love it. It’s taken me a while, but I’m learning to do things for me, just for me. You should try it, only go into town. Have a bite to eat you didn’t pour from a can.”

  How did the conversation switch to his issues? Ash had to wonder if his own face was showing the whirling emotions that he was losing control of.

  That never happened to him.

  “Too many people. I’m fine with my own company.” He was a law officer, trained to assess situations and take charge if there was any kind of danger.

  She deserved the same thing, though, a nice dinner prepared by someone else. He could almost picture it in his mind.

  But why was he the man seated across from her? They were wearing street clothes, no uniforms in sight, and she was smiling. What a great night that could be.

  Staring at her soft eyes, the brave smile she wore, he was losing the threads of the conversation.

  “Right. You’re now off to go out into the park to speak to people. Then other people. More people. So, when will you be back?” Macy asked. “And should I tell reporters where you are or lie like a rug?”

  Ash twirled his hat on his hand and considered her options. “Send anyone who calls for me through to my cell. Make sure Winter does that if she calls the office instead for some reason.”

  The fact that Winter had yet to return his messages? Yeah, that worried him. If he hadn’t been catching small glimpses of her on the news that was still trickling through regularly, he’d have been mounting a search. If he didn’t catch up with her over the weekend, he still might.

  “If I’m out of cell range, take a message.” Ash sighed. The park had plenty of dead spots. “Unless it’s an emergency. Send them through to the radio if you judge it to be an emergency.”

  “So, business as usual, then.” Macy nodded. “You can count on me.”

  Satisfied that they were back to normal, Ash turned on a heel and headed for the door, but instead of marching through it, he paused to look back.

  He didn’t do that, get sentimental or emotional.

  But looking at Macy perched on her throne behind the polished wood desk in the airy lobby where she’d been every day for years made him pause.

  “Did you forget something?” Macy asked. She leaned forward in her seat as if she was ready to launch into action to assist him.

  “Just...” Ash wanted the right words, but he couldn’t figure out what they were. “Thanks for your help, Macy.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Well, now...” She frowned. “It’s my job.” Her confusion suggested no thanks were needed. She’d do what had to be done. Like always.

  That dependability made her invaluable.

  “And you do it well.” Ash waved his hat and stepped out onto the sidewalk, determined to shake off the worry that had settled over him.

  Walking down off the curb next to his SUV sent a sharp twinge through the twisted muscles of his leg. Ash stopped with one hand on the car and waited to make sure the leg would hold.

  The feeling of someone watching him made him check over his shoulder again. Macy was hovering.

  She did that sometimes, waited and watched for him t
o ask for help.

  If she hadn’t stepped up to the door, he might have waited until his leg cooperated. As it was, he couldn’t stand there like a statue any longer.

  “Not when your pride is at stake,” Ash muttered to himself through gritted teeth as he limped over to open the door and slid inside. Macy saw him at his most irritable daily. Why did it matter if she watched him limp away?

  It just did.

  He managed to get the leg inside and himself buckled in without too much trouble, so he raised a hand at Macy. She was no longer in the doorway.

  Because he’d snapped at her often enough not to fuss over him like a nurse and an invalid.

  So she did her best to be sneaky about it.

  “Probably why we get along as well as we do.” Ash closed his eyes for a minute, wished again he’d been smarter when he was younger instead of foolhardy and too cocky to back down. Soon, he started the SUV. There was no sense in beating himself up for old mistakes. “Plenty of current mistakes to regret, idiot.”

  On his way down the mountain, toward the station where the fire trucks and equipment were stored, Ash scanned the forest and studied the parking areas for the campsites. “Still empty.” The winter season was a slow time in the Reserve, but not often this slow. The open house could be a big boost in attendance if Macy had her way and she usually did. Having the chief ranger see their efforts as a move in the right direction was key to getting his approval to add staff.

  Asking him to approve anything right now would be dicey. The Callaways were angry. They’d stir up the board of directors. Any request Ash made could be shut down.

  “Burying your head in the sand won’t change a thing, Kingfisher.” He’d delivered bad news before. Today, he’d return to the district office in Knoxville and hope to get back to business as usual. They’d already questioned him about the environmental impact report and any connection he had to the governor. He had nothing else to say about that.

  If the chief ranger couldn’t resume daily operations at the Reserve, Ash needed to know whether his job was in jeopardy.

  Ash parked in front of the firehouse garage where the guys on duty were gathered. In addition to using his Reserve SUV, Macy’s grand plan for the ranger station’s first ever open house included the fire truck with light bar flashing. Kids loved machines. He was sure she was right about them being big draws. She’d asked the firefighters to put together a fun photo booth, someplace kids could pose with either a park ranger or a firefighter and have their pictures taken. Parents would love it. Kids? Ash had no idea what kids loved.

  Ash had pictured a simple piece of large plywood with holes cut out for folks to put their faces. Maybe a cartoonlike cutout of a park ranger and a bear with a picnic basket or Santa with an otter elf. Goofy pictures people would laugh over.

  Apparently, he was wrong. Three men were scrambling to attach some kind of plastic sheeting over a metal rigging while the fire crew chief, Phil McKesson, judged their efforts.

  Ash paused next to him silently. Neither man spoke as they watched the guys decorate the sheeting with artificial trees and eventually Ash got the idea. “Is that Yanu Falls?” Something about the shape of the miniature mountain and how the trees were grouped to suggest a trail along the cliff’s face made it easy to imagine the waterfall that cascaded into Otter Lake on warmer days.

  “Yep.” The chief pointed at a large round indention in the fake rocks lining the bed. “That’s the lake. Gonna fill it with water.” The chief shook his head like he couldn’t believe he was saying the words out loud.

  “Running water? Like, it will come down the side and then pool and...” Ash rubbed his forehead as he tried to imagine how that would work. The water had to go somewhere, didn’t it?

  “Cho says it recirculates.” The chief spoke slowly as if it had taken him a while to get a handle on the word. “Runs down into the pool before it’s pulled back up to the top. Haven’t seen it in action yet.”

  Ash propped his hands on his hips as he watched the guy he recognized as the new mechanic pointing to places that needed to be covered or rearranged.

  “New mechanic builds models, landscapes with water features and such. Even restores muscle cars for fun. Cooks a mean tiramisu.” McKesson cleared his throat. “So when the guys were half a second from throwing in the towel on this project, even though Blackburn is going to be in town to see it all and they’d like to impress the hotshot, Cho stands up and says, ‘I have an idea.’”

  Sam Blackburn had been a member of the wildland firefighting team before he’d moved to Colorado to join a hot shot crew, the daredevils who fought the biggest blazes. Ash hadn’t been surprised when the kid applied for the position or got it, because he was that good at his job. He had been surprised at how much he’d missed Blackburn badgering him to get out of his cabin now and then.

  Blackburn had been the guy the firefighters trotted out for all photo ops and community service. Women and children loved him.

  Ash wondered how easy it would be for a new guy to be accepted into the tight group of wildland firefighters who worked to protect the Reserve and restore the native habitat. Apparently, not too difficult. Every guy working listened intently to what Ronald James Cho said and then asked for approval before moving to the next step.

  “He any good against fire?” Ash asked. If the kid had skill and this kind of leadership ability, they might be looking at a good candidate for training.

  “Cautious. Solid.” Chief glanced over at Ash. “Nothing like Blackburn’s flair, but if you need a guy you can depend on to follow protocol and execute a plan, Cho’s got it.” He shrugged. “Big city roots, though. Comes from New Orleans by way of the national park system. Not sure Sweetwater will make the cut for long.”

  “What brought him here?” Ash asked. Competition for all park service, national, state and even small places like the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve, was tough. Cho would have had to fight for his spot.

  McKesson raised an eyebrow.

  He hadn’t asked. Of course. It didn’t matter.

  “Chief, we’re about to flip the switch. Want to do the honors?” Cho yelled from his spot atop mini Yanu Falls.

  “Head ranger, would you be interested in turning on the waterfall?” the chief asked before bowing deeply. Everyone smirked, but the way they watched convinced Ash they were proud of the work they’d done.

  “Glad to.” Ash walked over to take the box that Cho handed him.

  “Press the button when I say.” Cho didn’t wait for Ash to agree but bent to study the apparatus. “Steady. Good.” Cho nodded. “Okay, hit it.”

  Ash pressed the black button and, at first, nothing happened. Cho cursed under his breath and then muttered, “Water hose. I need the water hose.”

  The scramble on the ground was quick but Cho carefully arranged the hose and said, “Turn on the water. Slowly.”

  A trickle of water poured from the hose down the smooth sheeting of the mountain before pooling in the fake rocks below. Cho motioned to turn off the hose and then stared hard at the top of the waterfall.

  Half a second later, Ash could hear the tiniest gurgle and water poured up over the top of the mountain to roll back down into the pool.

  “Lights!” Cho eased his way carefully off the mountain to join Ash and the chief on the ground. White twinkle lights under the sheeting gave the water a glisten that would make it truly pretty after sunset.

  Ash held out his hand. “You did it. That’s an amazing design there.”

  Cho clamped his hand hard and gave it a shake. “Thanks, Ranger. I like to tinker.”

  “And you’re good at it. I hear this was all your idea.” Ash watched red cover Cho’s cheeks.

  “Yeah, he’s as good at big ideas as Blackburn ever was, boss.” Rodriguez tossed his arm around Cho’s shoulders. “My girl is going to lose her cool when she sees this. She lo
ves otters.”

  Ash turned to the chief. “Otters? How are you managing that?”

  “Costumes.” Cho cleared his throat. “Two or three people in costumes. Gotta have people to take the photos, manage the line, hand out candy.” He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. The sign of nerves was unexpected. The kid obviously had skill. He motioned at stacks of plywood leaning against the building. “We’re going to put up a temporary wall. Those will include facts about the Reserve’s restoration work with otter populations. Waiting on the public outreach office to give us those figures. Education. That’s part of the goal with the open house.” Cho glanced around. “Right?”

  The men who’d been carrying out his orders all nodded seriously.

  “And are you guys part of the photo op?” Ash asked as he offered Cho the magic box that controlled the water flow. “Kids love firefighters.”

  “Some of us will be there, decked out, to show off the engines and whatnot. We can take shots if needed.” McKesson propped his hands on his hips. “Gonna have some law enforcement rangers on hand, too. Photo op with a park ranger ought to be somebody in charge, right?” He bent his head closer. “Think you could ask Chief Ranger Hall to drop in? We don’t want another time like the Fourth of July parade where Whit Callaway snagged the spotlight.”

  That little bit of grandstanding had stuck in Ash’s craw, too. The Reserve belonged to the Callaways, but most of the time, they used it as a talking point about their gracious generosity.

  Which was nice and all, but when they made sure to get every single attaboy they thought they deserved, his team had a reason to grumble. They’d worked hard on the parade float; all Whit Callaway had done was step in at the last minute to hog the glory.

  “Let’s avoid a Callaway takeover. Any ranger on hand should be representative of the park. I’ll talk to the chief.” Ash studied the smooth flow of the water until he realized everyone else was watching him. “What?”