Her Heart's Bargain

Macy leaned against the booth and considered what Christina was saying and what she meant. “I’m not surprised. People holding protest signs is something I’ve never seen in Sweetwater before, but they showed up earlier this week out at the ranger station. They don’t know him like I do.”

Macy returned to studying the golden ripples of Otter Lake. The only thing she was certain of was that Ash Kingfisher had nothing to do with the current drama.

Was she wrong?

“The whole town depends on the tourists the Reserve brings in. The lodge will bring in even more. It makes sense that people are concerned. The mission matters less than the money,” Christina said softly. “They want somebody to be at fault, so they can get rid of ’em and convince themselves everything’s perfect in their small town. I’ve seen it before.” In the sunlight, Christina was pretty, gorgeous even, but her serious eyes worried Macy. Even with Brett’s support for Ash, it seemed Christina had her doubts.

“He didn’t do it. Ash has been vocal about his objections to this lodge all along, mainly because of the habitat it will destroy. To build up on The Aerie? It makes no sense. New road. A bridge over the valley, plus the clearing in one of the oldest areas of the Reserve. He was doing his job to object. Anyone who thinks he’d play politics to get what he wanted is wrong.” Macy leaned forward. “Is that what you’re thinking?” Storming out was a possibility, but Macy’s excellent lunch was slowing her down.

Christina snorted. “Me? No way. Brett would say the same in front of a firing squad. He trusts Ash and I trust him. The rest of Sweetwater, though? Man, you would not believe the things I’ve heard from the morning crowd. Gossip starts out simple enough, but it doesn’t take long to get ugly. Believe me, I’ve studied it for a long time. Got the first complaint about me for the month for setting someone straight about Ash.”

“It’s a good thing Ash doesn’t care about ridiculous gossip like that.” Macy dug around in her purse for cash. She needed to get back to work.

“Sure.” Christina rolled her eyes. “Brett would be having a crisis if anyone said the same of him, but Ash... Well, he’s kind of a mystery, anyway. Doubt he’s even heard it, lucky guy.”

Macy paused. “What does that mean?”

Christina wrinkled her nose. “Hermit. That was the word I heard someone use. Do those even exist anymore? Must be nice to not have to care about what people say because you don’t have to hear it, you know?”

Annoyed at first, Macy forced herself to settle and take in the scenery.

“So...what? That convinces people he’s guilty? They don’t know him.” If they did, they’d brush the story off like tabloid trash.

“Listen, girl, if there’s anyone in this town who’ll step up beside you to protest the way people jump to judgy conclusions, it’s me.” Christina pointed at her face. “Doesn’t change the fact that they can’t be talked out of what they think. They have to see it.” She leaned forward. “They need to see him more. I told Brett that, but he laughed like he does when his son tells knock-knock jokes. That’s what’s changing people’s minds about me and about his wild, bad ex-wife, Leanne. They see us working hard, raising good kids. It’s hard to believe a story when the evidence right in front of your face tells you something different.”

“How? How would we even show Sweetwater a different side of Ash?” Macy crossed her arms over her chest. “He works hard at the Reserve. Long hours.”

“Right. And that’s all. The last big splash Ash made was when he fell climbing the cliff below Yanu Falls.” She shivered. “Why would anyone want to climb up it? When we were in high school, I went out there with Travis Riggs after the Reserve had closed for the night, and he told a ghost story I’ve never forgotten. How many other girls did that move work on?” Christina shook her head. “Not important. It’s too bad Sam Blackburn took that job in Colorado. That guy could say Ash was better than Tennessee whiskey and people would believe the golden boy. Without him, that leaves... Brett. You, I guess.” She wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t an impressive number of people.

“Doesn’t matter. He will never go for... What would you even call that? A publicity makeover? He’s innocent. This will all work out. It has to.” Ash hated the unnecessary mess and noise of most people.

Unless it had to do with introducing them to the natural wonders of the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve.

“I hope you’re right and it happens fast. This place needs Sweetwater showing up here and ordering the usual. Brett respects Ash more than anyone else he knows. He doesn’t want to lose the best boss he’s ever had.”

Macy straightened in her seat. “You think Ash could lose his job, too?” No way. There was no way the Reserve would let silly things like unsubstantiated rumors lead to firing a man who served like Ash did. “Surely this will blow over. The news is dying down already.”

Brett had mentioned the possibility that Ash’s job could be in danger, but it made no sense to Macy. If the Callaways never came to their senses, surely the law would. Ash had done nothing wrong.

“No idea. To be clear, I do not understand how politics and power work because they’ve never been a part of my circle, but I know what I hear. It’s like they’re trying to make him the face of this.” Christina frowned. “It seems to me that might be a bad sign.”

“Yeah.” And if Ash left the Otter Lake Ranger Station, what would happen to the spot she’d made for herself? Technically, she was part of an administrative pool that served all of the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve’s different areas. Ash wasn’t her boss per se, but he was the person in charge of the ranger station. Until he wasn’t.

They could leave her there and a new ranger would take over or they could reassign her.

But it wasn’t about the paycheck.

What would she do without Ash?

They had worked together for years. In the early days, she’d annoyed more rangers than she liked by insisting she knew better. With Ash, they could butt heads but never go too far. She’d learned to trust the guy implicitly.

That put him at the top of a short list. Macy didn’t need much to get by, just a good job and a safe place to sleep at night.

And Ash.

Christina tapped the bag. “Pie’s on me.” She bent forward. “I believe you, hon, you do know Ash Kingfisher as well as anyone. Because you work for him.” Christina raised an eyebrow.

Macy frowned as she deciphered what the last bit meant. “Yes. I work for him.”

Christina made the “go on” motion with both hands. “Okay. I wondered if there was something else.” She wagged her eyebrows. “Guy his age and general handsomeness... Seems like he’d have a special woman in his life. Does he?” The way she drew out the words made Macy think of a curious cat, one tail flip the only sign it was intent on prey.

“Huh?”

“You two... Just coworkers?” Christina tipped her head to the side. “Because whoever he dates could have some serious ability to revamp his image. If that’s you, drag him out of his cave. Go to dinner. Have breakfast here. Easy. People see him around, they start to think they know him. If it’s not you, we could find him one.” She scooped up the empty dishes from their table. “Know anybody important? Maybe a woman who could help him if this is political?” Then she straightened. “Janet Abernathy.”

Since Janet Abernathy had to be in her midsixties, Macy said, “Don’t you think she’s too—” she dropped her voice “—old for Ash?”

Christina paused and then hooted with laughter. “I meant she might have some suggestions.” Then she frowned. “Ash has gotta be...fifty? It still might work.”

Macy closed her eyes and counted to ten. “There’s no chance Ash is fifty. Winter is barely thirty.” She didn’t know how old Ash was, hadn’t ever considered it.

“You’re right.” Christina nodded. “I have not heard a single tidbit of gossip about Winter’s engagement. I wonder how that’s going.” Christina was deep in thought as she took the dishes into the kitchen.

Macy turned back to the water and considered Christina’s suggestions. Revamp his image, convince him to date a woman who liked to go out a lot. Wouldn’t it be easier to find the person who’d passed the report to the governor? They could prove Ash was innocent, the Callaways would acknowledge his loyalty and whatever happened with the lodge...happened.

Macy could see both sides of the argument: protecting the animals and habitat on the Reserve versus the economic advantage of a nice new lodge. As long as she could keep things the same at the station, she was prepared to be practical about it all.

Easier than finding the perfect woman for Ash Kingfisher, certainly.

Just the thought of some mysterious woman out there, waiting to fall in love with Ash, irritated her.

“Thanks for the advice, Christina,” Macy said as she slid out of the booth. Standing next to tall beautiful Christina Braswell made Macy feel a tiny bit frumpy in her uniform, but it was required.

“About staying for lunch? No problem. You chose literally the best thing on the menu.” Christina rang up her ticket and then took the cash Macy slid across to her.

“I meant about giving Sweetwater someone else to talk about.” Macy shrugged. “And possibly a light PR makeover. Forget the girlfriend.”

“Because you’ve already got that covered?” Christina asked slyly.

“No. Besides, that’s up to Ash.”

“You’ll meddle but only so far.” Christina pursed her lips. “I get that. I respect that.”

“It’s helping a friend... A good boss. It’s in my best interest to keep him in place.” Macy waved as she headed for the door. Really. That was all this was. It made perfect, logical sense that no girlfriend would be required and that she could help Ash navigate Sweetwater herself.

“Got any ideas who might be responsible for sending the report?” Christina called out, but Macy stepped outside and pretended not to hear her.

She didn’t, but it seemed to her that the only other person central to the mess was Winter Kingfisher. She’d grown up at the Reserve, like Ash. That had to mean a strong connection to the land, one that might make it necessary to put a stop to the project.

Anonymity would be a plus for Winter if she wanted to stop the building and marry her fiancé. What if she loved both, the Callaway heir running for governor and the Reserve?

How would she even go about investigating this theory? Winter was in Knoxville. Ash would turn to fire if she suggested Winter had played a part.

Macy could count on one hand the number of conversations she’d had with Ash’s younger, ambitious sister. Making this happen could take some planning.

When Christina stepped out behind her, Macy scrambled for a way to end further suggestion of a romance between her and Ash, but the waitress held out the white bag she’d packed. “Pie. Don’t forget it. Ash might grumble.”

Macy dipped her chin to acknowledge her thanks and then marched around to the driver’s side of her car. Christina’s grin was big as she rested against the diner.

Ash would grumble, anyway, but the pie would be a bright spot in a long day. He’d asked for it. She was only doing a favor.

And the next big, big favor she was going to do for Ash he’d never expect. She was going to find another suspect, someone to lend some support to his denial of guilt.

That person couldn’t be Winter Kingfisher, not even for Ash’s protection. Ash was proud of his sister. Even if Winter was responsible for the leak, Ash was the kind of hero to take the fall to save her engagement.

That didn’t change the fact that Macy was certain the next step was to talk to Ash’s sister.

CHAPTER FOUR

JUMPING EVERY TIME the phone rang had gotten old early on. Doing it for two days straight was enough to make Ash irritable as a wounded bear. The number of phone calls he’d returned had to be reaching world records. Halfway through the afternoon on Thursday, he wished he’d started counting the number of times he’d said some version of “I don’t know the answer to your question” and “Direct all requests for information about Smoky Valley Nature Reserve business to the district office in Knoxville” and “I have no further comments.” Over and over, on a loop.

The question he hated the most was “Who else had access to the report and good reason to slip it to Whit Callaway’s opponent?”

The answer to the first part of the question was short: the team that had prepared the report, his sister and Macy. That was it.

Ash studied the list of names on the report. A couple of hours of research on the scientists and engineers involved had turned up no obvious red flags. Before he’d commissioned this team to prepare the environmental impact study, he’d done his research, determined to hire only the best experts on the Great Smoky Mountains.

Short of making public accusations with no evidence to back it up, he was out of ideas.

That, along with hiding behind his desk for too long, made him short-tempered.

Since Macy was one of the few people left who’d have his back in a gunfight, he hated that he was snapping at her.

Fridays were normally nice, the coming weekend lifting everyone’s spirits. Guides had been in and out, preparing for the busiest days of the week, Friday and Saturday. None had stopped by to say hello. The cloud above his head had dampened the ranger station’s mood. Even the mailman, a guy who normally sang a Friday song of his own composing, had come and gone with a subdued “Have a nice weekend.” Macy’s reply had been too quiet for him to hear at his desk.

It was time for a break from his office. He stood, straightened his shoulders, prepared to pretend he wasn’t nervous about his reception and headed out to Macy’s desk.

“Did you come by to tell me that my plans for the open house are terrible and you’re not sure how I ever got this job in the first place?” Macy asked sweetly. “Because that’s definitely where this day is headed.”

“I’ve been short-tempered. I’m sorry.” He didn’t apologize often enough for it to be easy. In fact, the words burned all the way down his throat. Her reaction told him his pain was obvious.

“Well, now,” Macy drawled, amusement making her lips twitch, “I can tell it’s genuine because you seem horrified that this apology is happening.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve been trying to be patient.”

Ash pinched the brim of his hat. “You don’t do patient.”

“I do not. What I do instead is make sure everything is moving along. I’ve confirmed refreshments and that the press release for the open house went out. I’ve made invitations for the shops on Main Street to display. I’ve already contacted them by phone, so this is just a reminder. Maybe they’ll talk up the open house to all their shoppers this week. I will deliver them ASAP. I have talked with Brett about security and Hank about the tours running that evening.” Macy pursed her lips. “I did all that while you snarled at every question. This place looks great. These displays you researched and put together about the animals in the park and how they weather the cold temperatures are good. Interesting. Informative. You’ve worked hard to prepare a program to draw visitors in. I want to show off the displays. For you. You do so much here. Let’s blow the horn about it. Stop acting like a frazzled toddler, okay? Or else. And I mean that with respect and as a genuine threat.” She’d relaxed in her chair, although her eyes still glinted like she was ready to murder him with a million tiny papercuts, but she reached across the desk to squeeze his hand. Before she could pull away, he wrapped his fingers around hers.

And everything settled.

For him, this public attention was too much, too strange, and it rattled him. Macy calmed all that. The connection between them was strong. Too strong for a little thing like his ruined reputation, and snapping at her, to break it. She released his hand, and he was surprised at how much he hated the feeling of her hand slipping away.

“I appreciate it.” Ash forced himself to move away from her desk. His boots on the ground. That was the only way to know, day to day, what was happening in the Reserve. Visitation and incident reports, revenues, those told only part of the story. Driving through the trailhead lots, talking with visitors, making sure he remembered all the people behind the statistics mattered. Those people, this place, made him love his job.

And he needed to get out of the office. It seemed his staff was also avoiding him. Only Brett had stuck his head in so far all day long. Were they convinced he’d anonymously sabotaged the lodge, too?

Here, he could avoid...whatever. He wasn’t sure what the consequences within the ranks would be of the firestorm that had yet to fade.

“Are you headed out to patrol?” Macy asked. “Patrol” was her word for his “making the rounds.” He was a law enforcement ranger, but most of what he did was management instead of enforcement.

They both knew he had to spend time on the trails of the Reserve to make it through some days. She’d been telling him he needed to do that at least once an hour all morning.

Being a part of the Reserve’s team was important to him. His first job at the Reserve had been summer help at the marina, and he’d loved it, but being able to combine the service of a policeman with the mission of the park had been his calling. When attendance was up, having another park ranger SUV on the roads and uniforms actually in the campground and on the trails, with the signature hat and holstered weapon, kept troublemakers on their best behavior.

Today, this “patrol” was just for him.

“The fire chief wants me to check out the photography backdrop you commandeered for the open house. I’m not sure why we couldn’t stand next to a...tree or something to have our pictures taken with the kids, but I’ll bow to your creative planning. I also don’t know why I have to do it when it’s your...” Her cleared throat interrupted the flow which was a good thing. She’d raised one eyebrow. “Then, I’ll head into Knoxville to the district office. We’ve got to get a full-time park guide on staff to handle the volunteers and part-time guides, and Chief McKesson’s had a personnel request in for weeks. We both need the chief ranger’s approval to move forward.”

Macy nodded, but the fear that he could remember in her eyes during their early days flitted across his memory. She’d always been able to eventually control it. After all this time, Ash had decided that Macy Gentry only feared one thing: failure. He’d seen less of that fear lately; he wanted to keep it that way.

“I bet the phones at the district office have been busy. Surely that’s the holdup. I’m guessing the chief ranger doesn’t like the lodge’s construction delay. He’ll be hustling to get everything back on track. I can’t believe anybody in Knoxville would blame you for all this.” Macy propped her hands on her hips. “It beats all I ever saw.”

Her loyalty was a nice boost. “All you ever saw, huh? You must be from around here.” He liked to tease her about how she spoke. Most days, Macy was completely professional, letting little of her firecracker personality slip through to anyone but him. Being that person to Macy was nice.

“My grandmother used to say that. She had this little run-down farmhouse with enough land to kill us both as we tried to keep up the garden.” Macy slumped back against her chair. “I’ll never forget the torment of picking green beans in the hot sun. Can’t even eat those suckers from a can now.”

Ash leaned an elbow on the high ledge of her desk. They didn’t do a lot of personal talk, so this glimpse was rare and sweeter for it. The lilt of her voice changed when she talked about home. Listening to her talk was easy.

“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.

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