Her Heart's Bargain

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Her Heart's Bargain Page 7

by Cheryl Harper


  “Head ranger would be a good representative for the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve, too.” McKesson watched him closely.

  Ash would rather eat kale than have his picture taken all day long, and he hated kale.

  “Not for me, not this year.” Not ever. “You want celebrity, someone people will look forward to seeing. Considering my press right now, I’d only bring the party down. I can ask the chief ranger his feelings. Might get us some extra points. Or Macy will do it. Officer Hendrix. I will order them to, if necessary.”

  The disappointment on the faces of the fire crew was another blow to Ash’s confidence. If he kept this up, every ally he had would be ready to dump him.

  “It’s next weekend, right?” Dumb. He knew exactly when it was. Macy wouldn’t let him forget. “Well, let’s think on it. This idea, though? It’s great.” Ash clapped his hand on Cho’s shoulder. “Impressive work, everyone. I’m proud to have you representing us.”

  The response was subdued as Ash retreated to his SUV.

  “Nothing to feel guilty about. I’m saving them the grief of having Sweetwater’s least popular citizen ruin their hard work.” Ash realized he was muttering to himself half a second before he hit the highway out of town. “Get a grip, Kingfisher.”

  Ash made the short trip to Knoxville without remembering much of it. The district office for the three private, Callaway-owned reserves in east Tennessee was in a squat brick building with only one claim to fame: the beautiful view of the Tennessee River. The river was still that afternoon, the calm surface reflecting the Henley Street Bridge. Ash slowly limped forward, but stopped to take a few minutes to catch his breath at the overlook.

  “No good comes from procrastination.” His father had said that to him in a variety of tones for separate occasions, so Ash had learned the phrase by heart. Today, he wanted to put meeting with his boss off for a week. Maybe two. But the Reserve needed a new educational director.

  “Afternoon, Ranger,” Kayla, the smart redhead who manned the district’s front desk, said with a bright smile.

  Ash dipped his chin. All his conversation skills had been spent for the day.

  “I’ll let the chief ranger know you’re here.” She tapped the small earpiece that was nearly covered by crazy curls and said, “Ash Kingfisher to see you, sir.”

  Sir. Ash didn’t shake his head. He didn’t blink in confusion, although he had to fight that urge nearly every time he stopped in. It wasn’t that Chief Ranger Hall didn’t deserve respect. He did.

  But requiring titles like that would never be Ash’s way.

  Loyalty should be earned and come from a team for its leader naturally.

  Still, he’d do well to remember that Hall did require it, no matter how the meeting turned out.

  “He’s ready for you.” Kayla nodded toward the open door. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Reminded of how well Macy ran the ranger station without turning it into...this, Ash held up a hand.

  “Sir. Thank you for making time to see me this afternoon.” Ash reached up to take off his hat and realized he’d left it on the front seat of the SUV. Off to a great start.

  “Not quite regulation uniform, Kingfisher.” Hall pointed at the seat across from his desk. “Or haircut. Thought you would have taken care of that by now. Splashed across enough news sources that surely you’ve noticed.”

  Ash refused to wince. He deserved the criticism and needed to make visiting his barber in Sweetwater a priority.

  “It’s on the top of my list to correct.” Ash perched on the edge of the seat, realized what he was doing, and forced himself to relax as if he had no cares in the world. No matter how this went, he was going to hold on to his pride.

  “Good.” Hall tapped the stack of papers in front of him. “Numbers are low for November.”

  Ash nodded. “Right. That’s why I’m here. You should have received my request to fill the open spot for an educational director. We need someone with a strong education background and an interest in the flora and fauna of the Great Smoky Mountains. In addition to programs for school-age children, I’d like to explore activities geared toward seniors and hobbyists like birders who would be drawn to the park at times like this.” Ash had rehearsed his opening statement on the drive into Knoxville. It was impossible to read how well his boss was receiving it, so he continued, “I have rangers on staff who can lead hikes and point out the animals and plants, but in the winter, that’s more challenging. We could clear the room at the back of the lobby and set up tables for hands-on workshops. An experienced guide would develop and lead those.” Ash ran his hands down his uniform pants to dry them and smooth away the wrinkle he could see from the odd angle he kept his left leg at while he drove.

  Hall turned to glance at his computer screen. “Your budget is tight, but there’s some room. I expect you know that.” He clasped his hands over his stomach as he swung back around. “Go for it. Can’t think of any other reason why the numbers would be suffering. Can you?” He studied Ash’s face carefully and it was clear this was the tricky part of the conversation.

  “Well, I have heard that the people in Sweetwater are...” Ash studied the crisp, clean white of this office’s ceiling. His had water stains that they’d delayed repairing because paint was a low priority. “They’re concerned about the news stories.”

  The chief ranger tipped his head to the side, but he had no other reaction. He was at ease with the tension in the room. Wouldn’t a nervous man blink or twitch or do something else? Ash was on the verge of all three.

  Hall leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “You know how I feel about the lodge, Ash. If we want to continue the business of preservation, pleasing the Callaways matters. As I explained a few days ago, I’m not sure I can continue to support an employee who doesn’t understand the importance of that.”

  “And, as I explained, I didn’t put a bug in the governor’s ear. I’m not sure I can continue to support a boss who believes I could or doubts my commitment to the job.” Ash straightened in his seat. “Sir.”

  Hall’s eyes narrowed as he studied Ash’s face. He wasn’t convinced. “I’m not sure how this is going to shake out. The governor’s not happy with the Callaways because the kid running for election has been critical of his record. We work with state departments for support and grants. And the Callaways...” He sighed long and loud before placing both hands on his desk. “As I said, this could go one of two ways. The governor keeps hitting Whit Callaway hard in his reputation and the lodge stalls. You know how well that would go over with the Callaway family and the people of Sweetwater. I’ve had three calls from the mayor this week.” Hall met Ash’s stare. “Or the Callaways push ahead with the lodge, please the voters in Sweetwater and ignore the smudge on their Tennessee heritage reputation.”

  “I’m prepared to serve at the Otter Lake Ranger Station either way.” Ash heard how loudly he’d said it and forced himself to clear his throat and take a breath. “Sir.”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?” Hall said with a shrug. “Is there any possible outcome where the Callaways let this go without firing the man responsible for disturbing the hornets’ nest?” Hall met his eyes steadily. “Why would you do this, Ash? Everyone wins if the project goes forward.”

  “Sure, winners. Except for the copses of old-growth hardwoods that will be torn down and the animals who rely on that habitat.” Ash squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t imagine how this idiotic project made it off the ground in the first place. Building at The Aerie would require structural supports and clearances that would devastate hundreds of acres. Every report I wrote was against it. Every ecologist and not-for-profit we work with was against it. The first time I raised my objections, you told me to do the environmental impact study. At your suggestion, I hired the team. To suggest this is all on me is...not right.” Unfair. That’s what he’d wanted to say. />
  “Progress versus protection. That’s where we are. That’s been clear to us in Knoxville ever since the Callaways announced their plans. To keep the rest of the Reserve, the lodge goes in.” Hall shrugged. “It’s a battle, but the thing about those battles is, when you know you’re beat, you gotta stand back up, pick up your weapon and hold the fallback position, Ash.”

  That was as clear an explanation of what was happening at the Reserve as Ash could expect.

  The Callaways were ready to profit off the land they’d protected for five generations and everyone from the state of Tennessee to Ash Kingfisher better fall in line.

  “I did that, Leland.” Ash shook his head. “I stated my objections plainly. With honor. But I love that place, even with a lodge perched on top. Someone else slipped this report to the governor. My intention was always to present it to the Callaways, as you and I discussed. Then I would do the job I was ordered to do. That’s it. This was never supposed to be a bone that two politicians would fight over. Someone turned my concern for the Reserve into a political bargaining tool. Find him.”

  A smart man would try groveling, keep his head down and do whatever it took to keep his job.

  When he had a minute, he’d try to remember if anyone other than his mother had ever called him smart.

  The Callaways were one of the richest families in East Tennessee thanks to a long line of successful business ventures spanning generations building on that wealth. The Callaway name was on college buildings, hospital wings and enough politicians’ election funds that only one reason would have kept their donations out of the current governor’s coffers: his days were numbered because a Callaway was about to take his office. The governor had every incentive to fight them hard and dirty.

  “If you think you can find him, I suggest you get to it.” Hall tapped one finger slowly on his desk. “A man who loves his job on the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve will get behind the people who make it possible.”

  “Or find a new job,” Ash said, ready to have it all out on the table.

  Leland tipped his chin up. “We’ve worked together for a long time. I’ll do my best for you, Ash, but if you think there’s something else out there you can do, maybe polish up your résumé.”

  Before he could make his escape, Leland added, “Might do some more whispering in ears. Them Callaways, they’re big on loyalty. If they come for you, not sure they’ll stop with you.”

  Ash frowned. He hadn’t considered who might also be collateral damage. He had to get back to Sweetwater and make some decisions.

  “Hey, Ash, keep me in the loop.” His boss propped his hands on his hips. “On the new programs.”

  Their eyes met for a second before Ash nodded. Determined not to limp on the walk out to the SUV, Ash concentrated on every step. As soon as he was behind the wheel, he checked the time.

  If he pushed the edge of the speed limit, he could make it back to Sweetwater and the ranger station before Macy left for the day. Hall had been right about one thing. He’d fallen back; now, it was time to battle from the new position he found himself in.

  Macy Gentry was the first person he thought of when he realized he was going to need some help.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  UNDER NORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES, being by herself in the lobby of the ranger station gave Macy time to tackle the projects that took too much concentration under the normal flow of visitors and phone calls and all of Ash’s requests.

  But on that Friday afternoon, Macy stared out the window. Leaves were falling, and the cold gave every color of the landscape a sharp contrast. “That sky is the perfect shade of blue.”

  As soon as she heard herself, Macy pictured her grandmother’s disapproving head shake. “Wasting valuable time, Macy Elizabeth Gentry. I’m ashamed of you.”

  Normally that was enough to set Macy in motion.

  Today, she’d spent a lot of time staring out at the view she loved while she tried to come up with a plan to save Ash Kingfisher’s job. Finding the person responsible for sending the governor the environmental impact study was a long shot. Convincing Sweetwater to support Ash in any battle over his job... That might also be a long shot. She’d created the perfect setup here at the ranger station; losing it wasn’t an option.

  Neither was leaving Ash in charge of his own fate. Was he smart enough to plot and plan? Yes, but he lacked the killer instinct. If anyone could offer an alternative to Ash as the person behind the news story, it was his sister, Winter.

  Three different times that afternoon, Macy had picked up the phone to call Winter.

  She’d only muscled up the gumption to press the numbers in once, only to find out that the public information officer had already left for the afternoon.

  Now Macy was back to wasting time by admiring the view while she worried about losing the perfect employment arrangement: lots of independence, respect and a boss who could deal with her bossiness.

  Macy took a deep breath. “Visitor reports are done. All the park materials are restocked. Open house is a go, except for putting up the invitations around town.” She’d already made plans to do that on Saturday. If she managed to sneak in some shopping as well, the ghost of her grandmother could be ignored. There wasn’t a minute to waste. Really, all she’d done was ask for some ideas and a bit of effort from the different areas of the park, and people had stepped up. Why hadn’t they been doing this all along? If she had her way, this first open house would be so successful that Ash wouldn’t be able to argue when she offered to organize another one in the spring.

  If they were both still here in the spring.

  “Find something to do, Macy,” she muttered as she straightened the pens in the Reserve mug on her desk and then stared at the dark doorway to Ash’s office. More than once, the idea of snooping had floated through her brain. She was pretty sure he hadn’t been the guy who’d contacted the governor, but... Well, if she glanced through his paperwork, maybe another suspect would come to mind.

  Her grandmother’s ghost didn’t need words to stop that plan in its tracks. Picturing her disapproving frown was easy enough.

  The sound of tires on dry leaves helped Macy to focus on the parking lot again. The sedan parked in Ash’s spot was an unusual sight. Most of the rangers and senior staff drove white SUVs emblazoned with the Reserve’s logo, a mountain range composed of a bear, an otter and a fish outline. This gray car had the same logo but was much smaller.

  When Winter Kingfisher slid out of the vehicle, her dark suit a contrast to the Reserve’s uniform, Macy straightened.

  Winter Kingfisher, head of the public outreach team, dressed like a corporate queen in a slim skirt with matching black jacket and heels that Macy admired but could never pull off. Winter’s concessions to the uniform were a brass pin with the logo in miniature and a legal-sized leather portfolio with the Reserve’s motto in silver: Tennessee’s Treasures Today and Tomorrow.

  The Reserve’s mission was to preserve the habitats unique to eastern Tennessee and the Great Smoky Mountains and to make sure visitors enjoyed the natural beauty of the land. The people in Winter’s office worked as a public relations team to get the Reserve’s news covered by the press and address any bad stories as well as they could. Winter’s role was essential because fund-raising kept all three ranger stations operational. Because she loved Otter Lake as much as Ash did, Winter was good at her job.

  The few times she’d come into the ranger station, Macy had been able to pinpoint the exact second she herself had faded into the background. It was unusual for her, but if Ash’s focus made Macy feel strong, Winter’s gaze made her a bit anxious.

  The stress around Ash’s sister’s eyes, revealed when she removed her unnecessary sunglasses, suggested that her job, although it might often require extra hours and even crisis management, had taken a turn for the worse.

  And Macy was only going to have more bad
news. She hadn’t heard from Ash since he’d left for Knoxville.

  As Winter stepped inside the lobby, she seemed to be assessing whether there were any potential problems looming. That was her job: finding solutions to thorny problems. It seemed second nature, like maybe Winter didn’t realize she was doing it. She surveyed the space carefully, critically before turning to Macy.

  “No cameras. No reporters. Just me. If you’re looking for Ash, he went to Knoxville to talk to the chief ranger.”

  Winter paused as if considering Macy’s words. “I tried calling his cell. Maybe he was in a dead spot.”

  “Or had the ringer turned off for his meeting. He forgets to turn it back on sometimes.” Macy wanted to keep the conversation rolling, mainly for her own nerves, but could only clear her throat. “Texts are his preference.” Macy shrugged. “But not when he’s driving.” Her voice trailed off and the awkwardness almost choked her.

  Winter placed her portfolio down and tugged on the sleeves of her suit.

  “I could patch you through to his radio if it’s an emergency. As you know, it’s the Reserve’s policy to prohibit abuse of that capability because distracted driving is dangerous to the ranger and other drivers. However, in an urgent case, I can certainly do that. All you have to do is say the word and I’ll be happy to—”

  “Macy. Stop.” Winter held up one hand. “There’s no emergency. Ash has been calling me ever since the story hit. Everyone in the world except the one person I need to talk to has been calling me since this story hit.” Winter closed her eyes. “Never my fiancé, though, which has to mean something, right?”

  Macy knew her surprise was written on her face. She had no advice to offer, though.

  Winter tilted her head to the side. “Cat got your tongue?”

  Macy tried to laugh, but it was a strangled jumble instead.

  “I’ll go sit at his desk for a minute, if that’s okay. I’m not quite ready to hit the road. I’ve been called to an emergency dinner at my parents’ house and that is going to require more intestinal fortitude than I have at this moment. I’m running on empty.” Winter seemed to be studying Macy’s expression, while Macy wished she could find the right words to make the conversation easier. “Guts. I’m going to need more guts for that. That’s what I’m saying.”

 

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