by Alexa Davis
“You’re thinking something. What is it?”
She shook her head and sighed. “First, your face seemed familiar; now your name is trying to trigger something. Do we know each other?”
“Well, I think I’d remember a pretty thing like you.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “There’s just something familiar about you, I guess,” she said, but I heard irritation in her voice.
“Well, my family have a big old ranch here, Lago Colina, up on Lake Austin. Maybe you’ve heard of one of my brothers. The ones who decided to be cowboys, instead of photographers.”
“You’re a photographer?” She perked up like I hoped she would.
“Mostly wildlife. I worked with the Associated Press for a bit, but I lost my taste for photographing war zones after my brother got blown up by a claymore.” She gasped, wide-eyed, and I clarified my words. “He lived, and he’s healed up pretty good, considering. He even relearned to walk.”
“Still, I can imagine how that would change you. I bet you went in there with good intentions, though.”
“Nah, I went in there to get a Pulitzer. And I did. And it wasn’t worth the pain that I saw, but couldn’t fix. Now I’m home, trying to figure out what I can fix.”
She patted the palm of her hand with her phone. “You saved a baby deer today. How does that feel?”
“Pretty damned good, actually.” I tapped her phone with one finger. “How about you call me tomorrow?”
“Oh, I don’t think the doc will be done with him by then,” she stammered.
“But we could have a nice conversation. I’m putting trail cameras up along the southwest border, where the loggers seem to be inching farther and farther into the park’s forest. If you get a chance, I’d love to have company.”
Heidi smiled and tilted her head at me. “You’re working for Amnesty Wildlife? The t-shirt makes a lot more sense now.”
I groaned and tugged at the offending cloth. “I’ll wear my bunny print with pride, until I get back to my campsite, and then I’m going to burn it.”
She threw her head back and laughed, and her infectious, spontaneous joy made me grin.
“I will call you, and I will come see where your cameras are. If for no other reason than to have coordinates to give the police when you go missing. I’ll also inform them that they should question the lumberjacks in the area.” She was teasing, but I could see the anger in her eyes.
“I’m just trying to help.”
“You’re doing more than any of the government officials I’ve been harassing.” She held out a hand to shake mine. “I appreciate what you do, and I’m happy to help. As a government employee, I’m not allowed to belong to or openly support any private groups or clubs, so…” Her voice trailed off, and she stood with her hand out, waiting, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks as I held out on her. “I just don’t want you thinking we don’t care. We all do what we can.”
I grabbed her hand as she finally retrieved it and bent over it, kissing the soft skin and inhaling her sweet, clean fragrance. She tugged her hand out of mine and arched an eyebrow at me before turning away. I watched her hips swing as she strode off, and my hands itched to touch her again.
“Heidi, you have no idea what’s about to come for you,” I said to myself as I watched her perfect backend retreat. “Until then, I have work to do, and I’m losing daylight.” I chided myself for hanging out at the visitor’s center longer than I should’ve, even though I had to admit it was productive.
There had been no shortage of women passing through my life since I’d been home. Every one of them was more shallow and vapid than the last. I cursed whatever it was that had changed in me so I couldn’t enjoy the simple fun of lusting after a gorgeous woman with no possibility for a future together.
Lately, it was just more irritating when some plastic, Botoxed, big-haired socialite wandered over to me at the bar. So, I’d stopped going to the bars. Rather than sit home alone, I’d head out to the gym, where the women looked the same, but in their workout clothes. Now, some shy, fresh-faced park ranger who thought I was an idiot was on my mind as I drove back out to park and find where I’d left my water. I didn’t know if I was more irritated by little Honey for falling in a hole where I could hear him or grateful to him for being the reason we’d met.
Still, I wanted her to call. I’d gone from wanting to be completely alone to looking forward to being alone with her. There was simply something about her that made a man want to protect her, stand near her, make her smile. The other ranger, Eli, wanted her. She obviously didn’t want him. Since she didn’t want him, and she wasn’t wearing a ring, I was going to hope that I was right and she was available.
I parked the truck and hiked back across the trail I’d been using all morning. I found my water, still hidden in the underbrush. But I found something else as well. Since I’d been gone, someone had marked the trees on the west side of the path with yellow, spray-painted crosses. They were marked to be cut down. I was at least a mile into the park boundaries. There was no way these trees were legal to cut. I cursed myself for not taking Heidi’s number when she got mine. At the time, I thought I was being polite. She was skittish, and I hadn’t wanted to come on too strong.
My phone only had a bar and a half signal, but I managed to look up the park’s phone number and a young girl answered the phone. I asked for Heidi or Eli, and waited. Eli was the one to pick up, to my irritation.
“Hey, Eli, this is Logan. I’m sorry to bug you, but remember where we were earlier today?”
“Yeah, what of it?” he snapped at me.
I stifled the urge to use an obscenity and took a deep breath. “Well, sir,” I began, trying to get on his good side, “I’m back here, and I found trees that have been marked for cutting by the loggers. I mean, that’s well within the park borders. I thought you should know.”
He went quiet, and I glanced at my phone to see if I’d dropped the call.
“Why are you back there?” he finally asked.
I hesitated before replying. “I’m headed back to my campsite. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s interesting that you’re heading to a campsite when there are no registered campsites in that part of the park. Why are you really out there?”
“I’m camping and taking pictures of animals. And I already know that I can camp here anytime other than hunting season,” I reminded him. “Did you have any thoughts on the lumber company marking trees in your park for harvest?”
“My thought is that you need to leave my park. What happens here is none of your business. If you can’t get that through your head, you will be arrested for trespassing.”
“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I have a brother who’s a lawyer,” I replied and hung up. I couldn’t tell if Eli was participating in the unlawful harvesting of the forest or if he just disliked me that much. Not that it mattered. If he was involved, he’d go down with the rest of them. I glanced at the trees around me; I’d found a new place to put my cameras.
4. Heidi
I didn’t realize who Logan Hargrave was until I got home that night. When I did, I felt all the blood rush out of my face to my toes, and I leaned on the high-backed chair in my bedroom to stay standing. Over my bed, in 24” x 32” prints, were three of his photographs. They were taken in the Rocky Mountains, and I had fallen in love with the craggy mountains and snowcaps that were so exotic and foreign to me.
I had just met my favorite photographer, and I hadn’t realized it. In my defense, I’d never been a people-person. I loved the photos, not the photographer. Although, if I’d known what the photographer looked like, today would have gone differently. Maybe.
Leukemia stole my childhood. I’d been weak from chemo and bullied when I lost my hair. I couldn’t play sports or spend time where germs might attack my compromised immune system. My earliest memories were of me in the hospital with my mom or dad by my side, and no one else. Then I’d go home, and Butterscotch would curl
up with me and watch over me until I was stronger again.
By the time I hit high school, I had beaten cancer, but I had no friends and didn’t know who to trust. I’d ended up on the wrong end of a cruel prank. I’d learned that to keep my body strong, I had to work it, and work hard. I started to run, and soon the track coach told me I was the fastest girl in my class and wanted me to try out for the team. The boy I liked, the star of my track team, told me he liked me. He touched my hair and told me to meet him behind the track bleachers after practice.
Stupidly, I went. I waited where he’d told me for fifteen, then twenty minutes before I realized he wasn’t coming. When I tried to leave, the girls’ team surrounded me. They beat me up, held me down, and shaved my head, laughing that it was my “natural look.” When they released me, I staggered out from behind the bleachers with my torn clothes held around me, and he was standing there, leering, as kids took pictures of me and shouted insults. I walked into the office, asked them to call my parents, and I never went back.
I got my GED and started college while my peers were starting their junior year. I was already completing my graduate work in park and recreation management when they graduated. I was the most qualified employee at Ratcliff Lake State Park, which was part of the Davy Crockett National Forest. But I was relegated to the back room as a bookkeeper, managing records and inventory, while the man who I should have gotten fired long ago for sexual harassment was my boss.
No matter what I excelled at, I seemed to have a knack for turning it into failure. So, I wasn’t surprised that when a man I admired was in front of me, giving me a chance to participate in something bigger than myself, I failed on both the social and the wildlife warrior fronts.
But I loved that forest. I wanted to help Logan succeed where I failed by following the “appropriate” channels. I bounced on my toes and grinned at my reflection in the glass of my framed pictures. Logan wanted me to call him. He’d asked for my help. I was going to be brave for once and do it. The nervous energy that coursed through me only knew one outlet. I sighed and grabbed my leggings and my running shoes.
It’s your own damn fault for cutting it short this morning. I changed and headed out into the cool evening air. I tried to avoid running in the evening, preferring to be out when no one else was. All the traffic, pedestrian and otherwise, made me nervous now that I didn’t have Butterscotch with me. She had only been gone three months, but while it felt like she’d just died, it also felt like she’d been gone forever. She’d left a hole in me, and I was truly friendless without her.
I’d considered getting another dog to at least be a companion, but I couldn’t imagine trying to replace my oldest and best friend just so I wouldn’t feel lonely. Still, when I passed by the local pet store, Greener Pastures, my feet pulled me inside before my brain could refuse. I wandered around without taking my earbuds out, just trying to figure out what I could possibly want here when they didn’t sell dogs or cats. They only adopted, and I had no ID, no vehicle, and no desire to replace my Butterscotch.
Somewhere along the way, I realized I was being followed. I glanced down, and there was the sweetest little mutt I’d ever seen. She didn’t jump up on me, but pressed herself against my calf and licked my knee. I crouched down and rubbed her behind the ears, and she dropped and rolled over to let me get to her soft belly.
“Slinky, you little idiot, get over here.” A pretty woman in a tie-dyed tank top and jeans stood a few feet away, a baby in her arms. “I’m sorry. Slinky doesn’t love everyone, but when she does, she lets you know.”
I smiled as I stood up. “It’s no problem. I love her, too.” I managed a wan smile. “I should get going.”
“Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked.
I glanced at her and the baby. “You work here?”
She laughed and nodded. “I own here. This is my newest little one, Lily-Jade. I figured if Slinky-dog can come with me to work, why not Lily?” She tilted her head to one side. “I recognize you, but you haven’t been around lately. You’re Butterscotch’s mom, aren’t you?” She made it a statement, not a question, but I nodded. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Are you looking for a friend to adopt?”
“Oh, no. I don’t know why I came in, actually. I was thinking about Butter, and then I was wandering the store, trying to figure out what I could possibly need in here. Then Slinky found me. Maybe that’s why I came in, after all.”
She smiled, and it was gentle, not mocking. “You are not alone. I think our hearts start to give us hints when we need something more in our lives. Many of my adopters were not expecting to adopt; they just felt it was time.”
“But, it’s not time yet for me,” I argued. “Butterscotch was with me for almost twenty years. For a big dog like her, I don’t know how she managed it. I can’t just replace her months after she passed.”
“Certainly not,” the lady agreed. “You shouldn’t ever try to replace her. It would be impossible. But, when you’re ready, you might want to consider giving your time and attention to a furry creature that needs it. Taking care of someone else seems to help the pain.” She held out her left hand, adjusting Lily into her right arm. “I’m Callie. Please come see me if you ever want to talk or are thinking about adoption. I need people like you for my animals. I love them too much to let them go to just anyone.”
“Thanks, Callie. I appreciate it. Your baby is adorable, by the way. Does she look like her father?” Baby Lily had dark skin and eyes, while Callie was a redhead. It seemed rude to just tell a mother that her baby looked nothing like her.
“Oh, no, she’s adopted. I can’t have babies of my own. Probably why I went into animal rescue, even before I knew it.” She flashed me a grin and kissed the baby on the forehead. “Lily-Jade is the very first adopted Hargrave in the family. But I hope that she gets to have a brother or sister along the way, too. One who walks on two legs, I mean.”
I laughed, but it stuck in my throat. “Traitor feet,” I thought to myself as I made my goodbyes and walked out of the store. After, of course, Callie had talked me into donating toys to the dogs awaiting adoption and contributing money to her wounded warrior project that hooked veterans up with service dogs.
I ran straight home as the sun dipped low in the sky. I didn’t like running in rush hour traffic, but I didn’t even have the gear to be out in the dark safely. I ordered in, and while I waited for dinner to arrive, I surfed Logan Hargrave online. I had only known about his wildlife portraits. When I saw his depictions of the Peruvians fighting against “the Shining Path” communist party, I was blown away. I hadn’t even known there was an armed conflict in Peru or that it had been going on for thirty years.
He’d traveled to places I’d never even imagined. When I regarded the eyes of his subjects, I felt their pain, their sorrow, even their joys in life. If he cared about my forest the way he so obviously cared about all the people in his photographs, how could I not give him whatever help he needed?
Hours later than I was usually in bed, I was still online, flipping through hundreds of photographs online. When I noticed that it was after midnight, I declared my “research” stalking. I shut off my computer, chiding myself for being weird and clingy to a guy I’d just met, who apparently felt that even my casual touch was offensive. I groaned and covered my face with my hands remembering my embarrassment from that afternoon.
My bed was calling to me, and I was exhausted and happy with the purchases I’d made of two new prints. Though, I was grateful that Logan would never see how much I loved his work. I felt like I’d figured him out, through all those photographs. Logan was a person who needed to make a difference. He’d tried with people and only stopped trying when his brother got hurt. He felt let down by the people he was trying to teach. I could understand that. Instead, he’d done what I would’ve done in his place. He chose to help the ones who couldn’t help themselves, instead of the ones who refused to.
I set my alarm twenty minutes earlier for
the next day, so I could do a proper run before work and still have time for makeup. He had seen me at my worst, mid-crisis, with Eli tearing me down. I could only imagine the models or celebrity-type women a famous photographer would date, and that wasn’t me. But I wanted him to respect me and take me seriously. Because he was going to help me turn my back on everything I knew with the Parks Service and start doing what I knew was right.
He needed to see me as capable, strong, and willing to take a chance. People scared me. Hard work and honesty were my wheelhouses. Even the thought of risking my physical wellbeing for the right cause made me feel like I was finally living. If it just so happened to be in the company of a tall, broad-shouldered photographer with eyes the color of storm clouds, I couldn’t complain.
5. Logan
In my dream, I was running my fingers through her auburn hair, and her body moved on mine like she belonged there. When I awoke to some lights moving over the wall of my tent, I went from sexually frustrated to scared to pissed off in moments. The lights were too bright for flashlights. They had to be spotlights or construction lights.
Sleeping in my clothes meant all I had to do was put on my shoes, grab my flashlight and gun, and go hunting for illicit tree harvesting. I couldn’t believe how blatant they were. Eli had warned me away that afternoon. Obviously, he knew more than he was letting on. I’d resisted the urge to hit him when he was a dick to me and barely resisted again when he was a jerk to Heidi. Couldn’t fault her for refusing him, though. He knew his way around the woods, but I figured it was safe to assume that was even more useful for his illegal activities than as a ranger.
That thought brought me back around to Heidi. If he was a truly bad person, she needed to be protected, or at the very least warned that he couldn’t be trusted. However, with the things she’d already said, I didn’t want to make her afraid, only to find out I was wrong.
I slipped through the woods by the light of the moon, grateful that it was full. Between the light from the moon and the sky full of stars, I didn’t need the flashlight, but I brought it with me because it was heavy and made of metal. Better to use it if I needed to protect myself than waving a gun around.