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Her Heart's Bargain

He’s the kind of man—

a woman risks everything for

Head ranger Ash Kingfisher has been thrust into the eye of a political firestorm. Macy Gentry won’t quit until she clears her boss’s good name and safeguards the land they both love. The biggest obstacle is Ash, who’s determined to protect Macy at the expense of what’s developing between them. She’ll have to show their Tennessee town how much they need this special man—and how much Ash needs her.

CHERYL HARPER discovered her love for books and words as a little girl, thanks to a mother who made countless library trips, and an introduction to Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House stories. Whether stories she reads are set on the prairie, the American West, Regency England or Earth a hundred years in the future, Cheryl enjoys strong characters who make her laugh. Now Cheryl spends her days searching for the right words while she stares out the window and her dog, Jack, snoozes beside her. And she considers herself very lucky to do so.

For more information about Cheryl’s books, visit her online at cherylharperbooks.com or follow her on Twitter, @cherylharperbks.

Also by Cheryl Harper

Saving the Single Dad

Smoky Mountain Sweethearts

A Home Come True

Keeping Cole’s Promise

Heart’s Refuge

Winner Takes All

The Bluebird Bet

A Minute on the Lips

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Her Heart’s Bargain

Cheryl Harper


www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09076-6

HER HEART’S BARGAIN

© 2018 Cheryl Harper

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2018-12-18

This one’s for my team, the friends who move

closer instead of away when life takes a turn.

How lucky I am to have you!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

THE FIRST TIME a reporter called to ask for an official comment from Ranger Ash Kingfisher, the man in charge of the Otter Lake Ranger Station, Macy Gentry made the mistake of asking for more details. Most of the calls that came in to the station were easy to handle. Directions. Suggestions for hotels. Campground reservations. Questions about the best time to visit to see otters or bears or fall color. Sometimes there was an odd call that got misdirected from one of the state or national parks, but after four years, she’d learned to manage everything like clockwork.

Today, her foolproof system had hit a snag with one simple request for a quote from her boss. She’d stumbled; the reporter had pounced, demanding to know Ash’s whereabouts, and she’d hung up the phone.

Since she took pride in her phone skills, that abrupt ending had been enough to rattle Macy.

Very rarely was she pushed to that extreme. Rudeness had no place at the visitor desk of the ranger station. Unfortunately, that rare snowflake had turned into an avalanche of similar calls.

“Sharks, the lot of ’em.” As soon as there was one drop of blood in the water, she had a swarm on her hands. After more than an hour of juggling calls, Macy was feeling a bit bloodied and a whole lot frazzled. “What I need is a harpoon, scatter them sharks with one shot.” Irritated with her own overreaction to the problem, she muttered, “Get a grip, Macy. It’s easier to turn the ringer off on the phone.” The ranger station had protocols for every conceivable emergency.

Almost every emergency.” Macy flipped through the binder she’d insisted Ash put together before slapping it back in the labeled slot where it lived. He’d been exasperated by all her “just in case” scenarios. “Looks like I left one off the list—attack of the reporters.”

Since she prided herself and intimidated those around her with extreme capability, losing control of the situation was not an option. Macy had a lot of work to do. The ranger station served as the administration building for all the law enforcement rangers and park guides responsible for the educational programs and public outreach at Otter Lake. In this building, everyone had an important job and they all answered to the head ranger, Ash Kingfisher.

Ash made his reports to the chief ranger in Knoxville, along with the fire chief and head rangers of the two other, smaller ranger stations at Awi on the north edge and Lena Prospect on the far southeastern line, but he was the man who kept Otter Lake operational, and she was his right hand. This circus was hampering her ability to mark things off her to-do list.

The man who might explain exactly why there was all this attention on the station was currently AWOL.

With great difficulty, Macy ignored the ringing desk phone to pick up her cell phone and glared hard at the screen. He should have answered her call for help by now.

“In this crazy ol’ world, I got you, Ash Kingfisher. Don’t you let me down,” she muttered and then switched her glare to flashing lights on the ringing desk phone. The second line, the one that only rang when she was absent or too sick to function at an acceptable rate of speed, was lit up. “That devil’s selling popsicles today because something has got to be freezing over.” Macy took a deep breath and picked up the first line. “Otter Lake Ranger Station. How may I assist you today?” Macy hoped she was the only person picking up on the crack of strain.

“I’m headed in your direction. ETA ten minutes.” Brett Hendrix’s deep voice was pleasant but not the one she’d been hoping for. As the head of the rangers handling law enforcement at the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve, Brett would be adequate backup, even if she’d much prefer Ash for a situation like this.

Covering her disappointment took a second. “Thanks for the call, hon. I’ll put out the welcome mat.” Then she hung up. Decoding what it meant that Brett was coming to the rescue instead of Ash would take too much time and brainpower, so she picked up the other line as line one lit up again. “Otter Lake Ranger Station. How may I assist you today?”

“I’d like to speak to Ash Kingfisher. This is Bailey Garcia, from Channel Six News.”

Bailey was using her professional reporter’s voice, so Macy returned the gesture. “The head ranger is currently out of the office. I’m not sure when he will be returning. May I take a message?” Barely ten o’clock. She had to start closing down this circus, so she could get her day back on track. Where was an empty clown car when she needed it?

“I’ll call back, but I was wondering if you might have a comment on the bombshell breaking from the capitol today?” The silence that followed was wide-open.

“I’ll need a little more information than that,” Macy said. She’d never been known for her ability to keep a secret, so maybe it was a good thing she was in the dark. Macy Gentry had also never learned to avoid trouble. “What ‘bombshell’ are you referring to exactly?”

Without some direction, what could she say? That her boss hadn’t come in to the station when he was supposed to, and he hadn’t called to tell her why?

“Governor Duncan has called a press conference in response to an environmental impact study that shows the lodge the Callaways are pushing through will cause irreparable damage to The Aerie, the highest point in the Reserve.” The expectant silence thrummed down the phone line.

“What does that have to do with Ash?” Macy asked. Why weren’t the reporters flocking to the Callaways?

“Whit Callaway, Senior, is demanding to know who is responsible for releasing the report and for dragging the Callaways’ political opponent into the fray.” The pleasure in Bailey Garcia’s voice told the real story. All this fuss was about a hot sound bite, ready to lead the nightly news. “His son has been gaining ground in the polls, giving Governor Duncan a serious run for his money. This report may damage those gains and whoever gave it to the governor has made a powerful enemy. Speculation has turned to the most vocal critic of the new lodge.”

Since Ash had never learned to hold his tongue about things that mattered, he was the number one opponent to the lodge’s construction.

It made sense.

Ash was as predictable as the sunset. His unexplained absence was enough to convince Macy that Ash was in the center of the storm. The fact that she was the last to know? Annoying as all get-out.

If Macy closed her eyes, she could see Bailey Garcia on the television screen, her perfect dark hair in a sleek bob. She smoothed one hand down her ponytail before snatching a pen off her desk.

“I have no comment. All official Reserve press communication is handled by the public affairs officers in Knoxville. If you’d like to leave a message for the head ranger, please don’t hesitate to call back.” Macy gently set the phone back in the receiver and took a deep breath.

Her cell phone showed no new texts, but the flash of light outside drew her attention to the tall windows that made up one side of the Otter Lake Ranger Station and Visitor Center. On normal days, a peaceful view of a nearly empty parking lot and the forest and mountains beyond was a pretty picture.

Now that view was blocked by a news van that hadn’t been there ten minutes ago and what might grow into a full-blown paparazzi pack unless she acted quickly.

Gentrys didn’t dither. Gentrys took control. Ash was out of the picture for a minute, but the district office in Knoxville might have answers. She waited for one of the lines to clear and hit the first speed-dial button.

“Smoky Valley Nature Reserve District Office. This is Kayla. How may I direct your call?” Kayla had been the third person to take over reception since Macy had landed the spot at the ranger station. She was probably facing the same barrage of calls Macy had. Her ability to pretend it was just another day explained why she’d outlasted the others.

“Hey, girl, it’s Macy. My phone is ringing off the hook with reporters looking for comments from Ash. Is Winter around? If there’s an official answer I’m supposed to be giving, I’d love to have it.” Winter Kingfisher, Ash’s sister, was the public information officer for the Reserve. If anyone had prepared a statement, Winter would have it ready to go.

Kayla answered in a low voice, “Winter isn’t in the office. She was here, but she left in a hurry after I put a call through from Whit Callaway.” The last two words were whispered.

Macy watched more news vans park in front of the door. “Have you seen Ash?”

Kayla cleared her throat. “Yeah, but he’s been in with the chief ranger. My orders are to say nothing but politely. Maybe you can manage the same.”

“Good advice. When Ash comes out, could you have him call me?” Macy asked.

“I’ll try, but the atmosphere here is tense, you know?” Kayla answered. “The chief just stepped out to take a call from the Callaways, so Ash’s meeting may be over soon, anyway.”

“Thanks, Kayla.” Macy ended the call and straightened as her phone immediately rang again. Reporter? Or Ash?

Macy picked up her phone to text Ash an update. Reporters at the front door. Where are you?

She chewed the tip of her fingernail as she waited. Texting was Ash’s preferred mode of communication. Even in person, he spoke as few words as possible.

After what seemed like a lifetime, but must have been all of three seconds, Ash answered. Keep telling them: no comment. Brett is on the way. My orders are to avoid the press and the ranger station for now, but he’s close.

Macy considered a few different answers but settled on encouraging. We can handle the reporters. This will blow over.

When he didn’t immediately answer, Macy wished she’d erased the last line of the text before she’d hit Send.

Eventually, Ash answered. You can handle anything, Gentry, but I don’t want you to have to do it alone.

Macy clasped a hand over her stomach as a weird twist settled there. Ash was confident in her ability as always. His concern for her was sweet, different from his normal stoic self.

Take your time in Knoxville. We’ll talk when you get home. Satisfied that she hadn’t crossed the line into warm and fuzzy, Macy put her phone down carefully.

Right. Brett’s estimated time of arrival... Macy turned to check the oversize clock perched right behind her desk. Two minutes late. “That polecat should be here by now.” The crowd outside had grown. Now the reporters had been joined by Sweetwater’s mayor, two of the old guys who loitered in the barbershop on Saturday and Macy’s landlord. They weren’t marching, but the signs they were waving signaled their protest.

“Save Sweetwater jobs. More tourists equal more tax dollars equal more school spending. Callaway for Tennessee.” Macy read the signs and had to admit they deserved extra points for preparation. The one with the equal signs and the dollar signs replacing every S was painted in neon orange. If four picketers had shown up this quickly after the story broke, how large could the crowd grow? The people milling around on the sidewalk appeared to be waiting for someone, but eventually, they would come inside.

Unless she locked the door.

Could she do that?

She could do it, but should she? Her finger hovered over the panic button Ash had insisted be installed the previous summer when one of the national park rangers had come under fire. If she pushed it, the doors locked and an emergency alert went out to all the law enforcement rangers. Macy had argued then that it was the rangers who needed better protection, not office managers, but today she was wondering if she was going to have to tell Ash he’d been right after all.

That panic button would remain unpushed until Macy drew her last breath. Ash couldn’t be right. The man was right too often for her peace of mind as it was.

Then Brett Hendrix’s SUV rolled in and it was almost as if she could hear the cavalry bugles playing in the distance. He was only a man, but Brett had the training, the badge and Ash’s respect to back him up.

The way all the reporters immediately swarmed him, microphones out and cameras flashing, convinced Macy that no matter what was going on, Ash had made a couple of good decisions already.

Being scarce at this point was his best defense.

Macy stood and did her best to smooth any wrinkles out of her pants before straightening her navy blue Reserve shirt. Ash insisted every staff member wear the uniform and treat it with respect.

When the television cameras turned to her, she figured she’d better look the part.

As she opened the front door, Macy heard Brett say, “I have no new information on the status of the lodge project.”

“But is the governor’s insistence that there be an investigation a political maneuver?” a tall, thin man at the back of the pack shouted.

Brett held up both hands signaling he had no way of knowing. Macy was certain that was the only possible answer. How were they to know what the governor had intended by seizing this environmental impact study and taking a stand? Common sense said it was about causing trouble for his political opponent, but how much further would he go than stirring up the news media?

Macy had met the guy once. Richard Duncan had run on a platform of “Tennessee First” and had taped one of his campaign commercials on Otter Lake. He’d been surrounded by an entourage at least four people deep. A hurried handshake was the best he could manage.

“Why isn’t the Reserve’s public information officer, Winter Kingfisher, here answering these questions?” Bailey Garcia shouted from her spot in the front row. “Surely, she’d have good information, Ranger Hendrix, being so close to all involved. She’s employed by the Callaways, engaged to the governor’s rival and the sister of Ash Kingfisher.”

Brett propped his hands on his hips. “Great suggestion. As the Reserve’s public outreach officer, Winter would be your best source. You can contact the district office in Knoxville for more details. She does not work in this office, so she isn’t here for your questions.”

Everyone was using their official voices today. The last time Macy had heard Brett speaking like that, he’d been lecturing his daughter about protecting her brother instead of running con games on him. Riley Hendrix had the sort of gumption Macy admired. Today with that stern tone, if Brett had rolled up to her campsite, she’d have said “yes, sir” and “no, sir” until he left, and then wondered later what had come over her. Authority came with the badge, but the voice helped.

“Where is the head ranger?” Bailey asked.

“He was called to the district office early this morning. I don’t know when he will return, but—” Brett looked over his shoulder at Macy “—Ms. Gentry will take down your information so that Ranger Kingfisher can get back to each of you in due course.”

Macy waved a pen and pad, as if she was desperate to be writing down names and numbers.

No one was satisfied with that answer.

Brett listened to the jumble of shouted questions for another minute before interjecting. “I have nothing further to add. You can stay here if you like, but we ask that you move to one side. The visitor center and offices are open for business.” Instead of hanging around to watch them move, Brett turned and ushered Macy inside.

Their steps rang through the empty lobby as they walked back to her desk. Gleaming hardwood floors and the vaulted cathedral ceiling meant every step echoed.

Macy did her best not to flop into her chair, aware that she had an audience. She perched carefully and crammed a hundred questions into one raised eyebrow.

Brett made a solid wall between her and the reporters, his shoulders blocking the view. “They’re still there, aren’t they? That’s scarier than dealing with an angry bear or finding a lost hiker.” His stance was solid, unshakable, but his face showed his concern.

“Between you and me, what’s really going on?” Macy asked.

“When we talked, Ash didn’t know much, but the chief ranger demanded he report to the district office first thing. Everything else that I know, I’ve heard on the radio.”

Brett tugged off his hat and tossed it on her desk before ruffling his hand through sweaty hair. The pressure had gotten to him. The first week of December was not a sweaty time in Sweetwater, not unless a man was wilting under stress.

Flirting with the panic button reminded Macy she had come dangerously close to cracking herself. Now she was ready to push Brett for answers. Macy crossed her arms over her chest, certain he’d pick up on her body language. “We’ve got plenty of time. Tell me everything.”

Brett sighed. “The new lodge the Callaways are pushing to build? The one the chief ranger’s been working on for more than a year with the Reserve planning office and Callaway Construction? Yeah, well...” Brett rolled his shoulders. “The environmental impact report on building the lodge up at The Aerie is about to hit the news cycle. Some anonymous tipster got a copy to the governor, and now he’s making waves. He’ll use whatever he can to knock Whit Callaway down in the polls before the election, even if we all know Richard Duncan is only interested in conservation as a sound bite.”

The Aerie was the highest point in the park and provided habitat for several native Tennessee species. The Callaways had built a reputation as benevolent protectors of Tennessee’s history, leaning heavily on the acres of land Whit Callaway’s great-great-great grandfather had set aside for conservation. A report that outlined how their new moneymaking project would destroy a large piece of that would not be something they’d want falling into the hands of a political enemy.

And yet, it had, but how?

“That lodge is to be built on Callaway land, even if the land’s been held in reserve for public use for five Callaway generations. What can the governor say or do about that?” Brett glanced over his shoulder. “It always comes back to money, doesn’t it? Right now, the lodge is on hold until the Callaways decide what to do in the face of the results of the suddenly very publicized environmental impact study. If they move forward as is, the reputation they pride themselves on as generous protectors of Tennessee takes a hit. That’s pretty much Whit Callaway’s entire platform. ‘Good for Tennessee.’ If they stop the project completely, their future bank account will be impacted because that lodge will make money.”

Nature reserve areas had been carved out of the extensive Callaway lands and were self-sustaining at this point, thanks to programs, grants and daily operations, but the Callaways directed the work at each reserve through the board of directors. The Smoky Valley Nature Reserve was the Callaway family’s gift to the people of Tennessee, but they still held all the strings. The planned luxury lodge was a huge undertaking and would change the face of the Reserve near Otter Lake in any number of ways.