His father sighed. “While I believe the skeeves are a real thing—” he put both hands over his heart and waited until the three of them had nodded their understanding “—I also know that sometimes you have to call the principal, go to a meeting your wife knows nothing about with the parents of the little runt trying to be a big man at the bus stop, and handle things a different way, like with a full week of chores wherein you have multiple conversations about all the wrong paths a person can take and how hard work is the only key to success. Sage is good. Refusing to back down is sometimes the only real option, though.”
Ash took a bite of his pasta as he absorbed the fact that the antiskeeve ceremony had had some help.
“Here’s what we’re going to do.” His father tapped the table. “Whatever you want, Ash.” Then he leaned back and shrugged. “Your job. Your future. Your decision.”
Ash turned to Winter. She wrinkled her nose. “He’s absolutely right. In this, we do what you want. If you decide to keep your head down and let this play out, I’ll handle calls and we’ll both keep our jobs until the end. But if you decide to fight, then we’ll just see who wins. Maybe we’ll both be looking for new jobs. If we have to move back home, I’m calling dibs on the biggest spare bedroom.”
Ash braced his hand on her chair. “The job isn’t the only thing in the balance.”
Winter took a bite, chewed it slowly and washed it down with some of his mother’s brew while she stared down at her twinkling engagement ring. “That’ll be my decision. Whit and I need to talk. Then I’ll figure out what to do from there. The one thing has no impact on the other.”
“But it does,” Macy said softly. “How can it not?” Macy, ever practical and thinking of others. He was glad she’d spoken up when she did.
Winter closed her eyes for a minute. “Some relationships can survive big tests.” No one at the table could be convinced that her engagement was one of them. His sister’s face displayed her own doubts plainly.
His mother came back in with a wad of greenery in her hand. “I’m short a full bouquet of what I need to burn, but this should send things back a bit, give us all some breathing room.” She dropped the bundle on the floor and took her seat. “We’ll light that after dessert. I have apple pie. I tried a new recipe.” She settled and then took Winter’s hand. “Ash is going to do the right thing. Before, he was going to do what it took to keep his job. Now we’re going to stop that lodge from being built. We love Otter Lake. I stood at the top of those falls and married the only man in this world who could ever make me happy. Someday, I hope each of you will do the same. Or, I don’t know, at least kiss the people you want to marry or something.” She waved her hand. “Winter, skeevy Whit is not that man and I’ll stake my reputation as a healer on it.” She studied her daughter’s face. “This situation has come about to make your decision easier and clearer.”
Anxious to take as much pressure off Winter as he could, Ash said, “Winter’s right. She’s got to have more information before she makes any decision.”
His mother obviously wanted to argue further, but his father headed her off. “What’s our first step?”
Ash propped his elbows on the table and waited for his mother to squawk about his manners. When she didn’t, he decided they all had a lot on their minds. “That’s why Macy and Winter are here. Strategy.”
“Good. Something to do.” Winter cracked her knuckles. “First thing, you start talking to every reporter you can get a hold of. You tell the truth. You had no contact with Richard Duncan, the chief ranger suggested the study be done as a way to support your views in front of the Reserve’s board of directors. And of course you’re glad there’s more conversation about the lodge because of the harm it could do to the Reserve.”
Ash waited for someone else to say something. “And I start looking for another job ASAP, then.”
“Nope. We start truth telling ASAP. You gain nothing and risk everything, an everyman standing up to the wealthy family that pulls the strings. Your only hope is to take this to the full board. Callaways are in charge there, but they don’t have a majority. If we can get Caleb Callaway to show up for a vote, you might even have an ally. The problem is going to be when they decide to play dirty. How can we fight that with only Ash’s honor and integrity?”
“No good comes from ignoring the truth.” Ash watched his father nod as Ash repeated the words he’d heard so many times.
Then he realized his father had done some ignoring of his own, mainly when it came to fighting the skeeves honestly, but now was not the time to launch into that point.
“I have a suggestion,” Macy said. When everyone turned to her, she cleared her throat. “First thing Monday, let’s fire the first shot. Can you get a press conference together, Winter? You could say it’s regarding the winter open house next weekend, but everyone will be ready to dig into Ash’s involvement.” Macy held up a second finger. “We’ll go from defense to offense. Instead of hiding away, Ash will hit them with the truth, say he had nothing to do with getting the governor involved, but he can quote statistics about the environmental impact of building at The Aerie. We’ll hand out copies. We’ll challenge the governor’s record directly, question what he’s done to protect the state’s lands himself. We can call on the Callaways to reconsider the project while reinforcing our gratitude that the Reserve exists, thanks to the family.” She tipped her head to the side. “Before any of that happens, Ash will get a haircut. There’s no sense in tweaking the chief ranger’s nose by cheating on the regulations, you know?”
Before he could object to the valid comment, Winter nodded. “It’s bold. The Callaways prefer agreement to even supportive opposition.” She chewed spaghetti as she considered the plan. “I’ll set it up. We pick up the chips, wherever they fall, and make a plan for phase two. That will be when the Callaways go low. I’m not sure what that means, but I have a feeling it will happen. And yes, Mom, that totally gives me the skeeves, the fact that I can predict that the family I’m about to marry into will do whatever it takes to win and I have no idea how to stop it. They need to blame someone, even if they can’t find the deserving target. That’s why the media is coming after Ash. Whit was the first to throw his name out there as the person who’d betrayed their trust.”
Ash squeezed his sister’s shoulder. That had to hurt. Add the fact that they’d argued and hadn’t spoken since, and the wedding was clearly in danger.
“Still, I love Whit. We’ve been best friends and partners in his political career for a decade. He wanted to get married as soon as we graduated. If we’d done that, just... Things might be different. If he’s still that guy, the one who attended so many political rallies with me and got excited over the same causes I did, I need to make my decision with that guy, not the one you think you know. Just be patient, please. I’ll figure this out.” She blinked as she waited for her mother to speak. When their mom made a tight line of her lips and mimed throwing away the key, Winter softened. “I’ll drag him up to Yanu if that makes you happy. There, I’ll either kiss him or shove him over. Poetic justice.” Winter grinned.
“My girl. You are my girl, through and through. Couldn’t be prouder.” Their mother lunged across the table to hug Winter’s neck, rattling silverware and glasses. Ash and his father exchanged a look, one they’d shared more than once. In their small family, it was most often Winter and his mother that butted heads, because his sister couldn’t be any more practical if she tried and his mother had her own set of rules. When they were aligned, though, the female Kingfishers were fierce. The one time Ash had wanted to dump a girl in high school, Winter had disapproved of him doing it over the phone. She’d told his mother, and they’d tormented him until he’d made an in-person explanation of why he and Charity Scarborough should not go to the prom together. The fact that she’d already started dating someone else, the biggest jerk on the football team, had not swayed the female Kingfishers i
n the least.
Throughout his life, he’d understood that most families were probably different from his, more predictable.
As he watched Macy try to pretend that she was absolutely comfortable with all the family-ness flying around the table, Ash knew he had a lot to be grateful for. He could have decided to be an unemployed beet farmer, and his mother would have applauded. His father would have given him advice and worked circles around him until he was building a steady income from his combination beet-and-organic-juices roadside stand. That was who they were. Winter had pieces of each of them; he had other pieces. Together they were unstoppable.
If he lost his spot at the Reserve, it would take some time to figure out what he’d do next. There wasn’t much call for a park ranger with a limp, not when the competition for both state and national park service jobs was so intense. Law enforcement would be a long shot and the fact that he could be in harm’s way daily would give his mother a strong case of the skeeves, stronger than all the sage in the world could battle.
But at least he knew his safety net—his family—would catch him and it would hold until he could stand on his own.
Macy was alone in the world. Her safety net was... What? Did she have one?
“How long will it take for you to have everything ready to distribute, Macy?” Winter asked as she picked up the notebook she never traveled without. “We want to give the reporters enough time to make it to the ranger station, but without giving anyone at headquarters enough notice to make it to the ranger station before the press conference.”
Macy pursed her lips. “I’ve filed everything to do with the lodge project, so it’ll be easy to prepare. By ten, I’ll have coffee hot and waiting. Do we need snacks?”
Everyone turned to face him.
“No.” He was reminded of Leland’s expression during his last visit to the district office. “No coffee. No snacks. This is official business. Very serious.”
Macy wasn’t an event planner. She was the administrative powerhouse that kept everything on schedule.
“And I don’t want Macy anywhere near it. You’re going to take the day off. I’ll go in and make the copies tomorrow.” Ash nodded at her shock. “Myself. I will make the copies myself. You are going to be sick and you are going to stay home. Yes, this will ruin your chances of winning the nonexistent award for perfect attendance, but you will be far away from the ranger station on that day.”
The blaze in her eyes suggested she had a few choice words to give him, but she glanced from his mother to his father and said, “Did you mention dessert, Donna? Ash and I can figure out the details later. I’m glad we have the makings of a plan.”
His mother blinked slowly, but whatever she read on Macy’s face was enough to convince her to go along.
Was it some indefinable signal only women understood? Ash had a feeling that Macy was biding her time and that his mother understood that and bowed to her ability to wound an idiotic man with words alone. When his father gave him a sorrowful head shake, his hunch was confirmed.
Not that his impending scolding mattered. Macy needed protection. She had no one who would catch her if things fell apart.
So he would make sure that didn’t happen, keep her away from the ranger station when it all went down.
Figuring out how to convince her he was right would require some brainpower and he should let his mother burn all the sage she had.
He was definitely coming down with a case of the skeeves.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MACY HAD BEEN staring out the passenger-side window with her nose tilted toward “extremely annoyed” for so long that she had a crick in her neck and a throbbing pain at her temple.
And Ash still hadn’t said a single word since they’d left his parents’ lovely little house.
“Bet my parents weren’t what you expected,” Ash spoke, leaving Macy with a difficult decision. It wasn’t an apology. He hardly ever made them without her explaining in depth why he needed to, so unless she unbent, she was going to permanently freeze in this condition.
“Most of my friends in high school loved hanging out at our place.” Ash cleared his throat. Was he going to share something with her? Macy leaned back against the seat, grateful when the belt stopped digging into the side of her neck. “Of course, I had to fight some of those same guys in elementary school for supposedly joking about my being Cherokee.”
Macy glanced at him and noticed he was watching her.
“I don’t get it. Why would they do that?” Macy turned her attention back to the road. She’d ask questions; Ash would keep talking. That didn’t mean she forgave him.
“Kids are dumb. So many families around here have some Cherokee ancestors and there are plenty like me and Winter who still have the name to prove it.” He shook his head. “When you consider my mother’s awful baking, they should have been teasing me about her gross muffins and cupcakes. Elementary coincided with my mother’s refined sugar-free phase. Those were some rough years.”
Reluctantly, Macy laughed. “I can imagine. Particularly since you never met a piece of pie you don’t love.”
“My dad fixed that. Very sweetly, he talked her around and I’ll never forget the first Christmas where she served pecan pie again. It’s one of my favorites. Can’t remember what Santa brought, just the first bite of syrupy goodness.”
“I bet that was amazing. I’m always so surprised when I hear someone mention Santa like there was a time when they believed the myth.”
The silence between them was nice since the anger was gone. He’d been able to do that almost from the first time they’d tangled. Ever since, he could always slowly turn her away from annoyance and irritation to amusement.
“You never did? Grandma didn’t believe in giving you Santa, either?” Ash asked.
Macy’s snort was louder than she meant it to be, so she quickly said, “Not only didn’t believe, but she didn’t cotton to allowing other parents to fool their kids into thinking it, either. I’ll never forget the first meeting at the principal’s office I attended. It was a Thursday, just before the holiday break started.” Her grandmother had worn her apron into town that day. On the Wednesday afternoon before that, Gran had informed both teachers monitoring the pickup line and a dozen parents waiting for their kids that lying to children should be a criminal act and that encouraging them to believe in something so senseless as an elf who delivered free gifts for acceptable behavior was bad parenting. Macy had been six. Luckily, she’d also been the only child within hearing distance. If she’d had to remember the faces of kids who’d had their illusions shattered, along with the expressions of the stunned adults, she’d hate it. As it was, she could laugh.
“Macy Gentry got called to the principal’s office?” Ash’s teasing voice was rare enough that it was especially nice to listen to it when it happened.
“My grandmother got called to the principal’s office. I was just waiting for her to arrive.” Macy laughed because it was funny now that she didn’t have to live the embarrassment anymore. The town of Myrtle Bend must have already forgotten she existed and she’d keep it that way. “Turns out, school authorities frown on parents lecturing each other in the pickup line. My grandmother didn’t believe biting her tongue was ever the right decision.” At Ash’s whistle, Macy shrugged. “The principal didn’t have much to say to her, though. I guess the shock was still there.” Macy sighed. “Still, he did explain why it was better for me not to repeat the truth about Santa to other kids, even if I knew it.” As if she’d ever ruin someone else’s fun like that. Fun was to be cherished, not squashed.
Truth mattered, too.
So did joy and hope and learning those things as a child because holding on to them as an adult would be a battle.
When Ash had nothing to say, she turned to see that he was watching her again. “What? It’s a cute story. You gotta admit that, not th
at that’s what I want to talk to you about.”
“Cute now, maybe, but sad, too. I can’t imagine growing up in a house where you’re expected to be an adult from...birth? Were you ever allowed to be a kid, Macy? To daydream about impossible things?”
“Daydream?” If she’d been asked to come up with the last word Ash might use in a conversation, daydream might have been on the list. When he said it like that, he made her wonder if he thought there was something wrong with her.
“When I have my own family, I’ll run it differently, Ash, but you gotta admit that I turned out to be a perfectly capable, highly functioning human being, so my grandmother didn’t mess up too badly.” Macy told herself that often enough the words rolled off her tongue. This might be the first time she heard the defensive tone, however. No defense was necessary, was it?
“My parents are still putting up Christmas lights, even though there have been no kids in their house for decades. My father puts a black bear on every other basket he makes and sells them as good luck house-warming presents. Basically, he’s trying to start his own myth, one person at a time. It’s hard to imagine what it must have been like in your grandmother’s house,” Ash scoffed. “For that matter, my grandmother, a woman who was always pointing out omens of death, would grab my hand every time she saw a rainbow and drag me off to chase the pot of gold.” Ash tipped his head to the side. “Cherokee do not traditionally believe in leprechauns, Macy, but they do believe in fun and whimsy and joy in life. Or, at least the Kingfishers did.”
Since she’d spent a day watching the clock count down to the weekend and wondering what she’d do to fill her time until work started on Monday, Macy understood that she was missing something important. Other people worked to live. Her life was about work. Sure, her grandmother had kept her clothed and fed, but what about the rest of life?
“My kids will dream, Ash.” Macy cleared her throat. “What I don’t understand is why we’re all...‘Macy’s childhood was terrible.’ I want to talk to you about your decision that I’m going to be out sick on Monday. Because I’m not. I don’t call in sick. I don’t get sick.” She didn’t want to be defensive. She also didn’t want to spend time considering what her life might have been like with a family who’d welcomed Santa and chased rainbows and danced as they prepared dinner and welcomed guests to their table.
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