Her Heart's Bargain

Macy tilted her head to the side. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Would have been nice if I’d had a warning.”

That wasn’t what Brett told him when he’d called for status reports.

“Yeah, me, too.” Their eyes met. She understood him. Neither of them had been prepared.

He should have called her, but that had seemed impossible. With Brett, he could demand facts and make yes-and-no decisions accordingly.

For Macy, he’d want to charge in to the rescue.

Macy took his mug and topped it off. “Let this one cool down first.”

This was the reason things weren’t quite as simple with Macy. In a hundred different ways, they were more than coworkers. She looked out for him.

He would do the same for her, but he never tried to give his feelings for Macy a name. That could be scary.

“You know I was sure you could handle whatever came up here, right?” Ash didn’t meet her stare because he was leaving his comfort zone quickly. Feelings and saying them out loud? Not his MO.

“I did need help.” Macy retreated to the doorway. “On the first day. Since then, the calls have died down a bit. A few picketers showed up yesterday, but this cold weather is probably slowing them down. If word gets out that you’re back, that will change. What do you want me to say?”

Lie for me. Tell them I’m not here.

She would do it, too, because Macy supported the Otter Lake Ranger Station fully.

But asking her to do that would do little to restore his own balance, so Ash didn’t.

Macy’s exaggerated eye roll would have been insubordination on any other day with any other employee. Today, it made him laugh. “So much respect.”

Macy marched over to his desk and thumped her hand on a towering stack of white paper. “Here’s my respect. Perfect paperwork every time. Stacked in order of priority. Just like every time.” She made the signing motion. “Waiting on you to finish.”

She left off the every time, but it was present in the room.

“Where are the newspapers?” Ash had never expected to become so set in his ways, but the idea of diving straight into spreadsheets without first meandering his way through the day’s headlines further upset his queasy stomach. He sipped his coffee, hoping it would drown the acid of worry.

“On my desk.” She planted her feet firmly. “You don’t want to see them. Neither does Brett, but I have plans to make sure he gets a good look at a certain photo, lipstick smear in full color, in the Sweetwater Sentinel.” The gleam in her eyes suggested they might all have a real laugh about something. The warning about the rest of the papers? Not good.

“You better show them to me.” He stared hard at the red light on his phone. “I might have messages waiting about them.”

Macy nodded once and then marched away. Normally, the noises she made as she moved in the lobby were soothing background sounds. Today each step clicked like hands on a clock.

Or a ticking time bomb.

Instead of plopping the newspapers down and then sailing away, like she would usually do, Macy eased them down and lingered. There was no other word for her watchful waiting.

“Don’t hover.” Ash sipped his coffee and then carefully stared at her until she held up both hands in surrender.

“I’ll be outside if you need me.” Macy paused in the doorway, her long blond ponytail swinging to punctuate her irritation. “You never did tell me what you want me to do with callers who ask for you. I’ll tell them you aren’t here. Give you some time to catch up.” Satisfied with her own answer, she turned to go.

“Put them through to me. I’ll handle it, Macy.” Ash waited for her to meet his stare and nod. He still didn’t fully trust her to do as he’d asked, mainly because she was almost always certain she had a better answer, but he’d done the right thing.

It was also the hard thing, but that seemed to be the case more and more.

On top of the stack of newspapers was a shot of Ranger Brett Hendrix standing out in front of the visitor center. He seemed to have full control of the situation. Macy had his back, her pen ready. The two of them were a credit to the Reserve.

Ash slipped on a pair of reading glasses he kept in his desk to study the fine print.

“Lots of questions. No answers. So, basically the same as every other news outlet.” Satisfied he’d gotten the main idea, he moved to turn to the next page and caught a red smear on Brett’s cheek. Lipstick. On his face. In a photo on the front page.

No wonder Macy was delighted. She’d be back in soon to reclaim her prize.

Brett Hendrix was the kind of employee every boss would be lucky to find. He was dedicated to his job. Smart. Followed procedure without complaint and served with the highest standards.

After a rocky period where family stress caused some distraction for him, he’d settled into the job and performed at the highest level. The guy made no mistakes.

This photo would drive him nuts.

Ash smiled as he set the newspaper down on top of the documents Macy was antsy to have reviewed and signed. When she asked, he’d tell her that the news was causing the delay. Picturing her death glare made him smile again.

Things could not be that bad. Life at the Otter Lake Ranger Station was close to all right that morning.

Then he opened the next paper, saw the governor’s angry face, and his own official photograph from the website for the Reserve. It wasn’t a mug shot, but it could almost pass as one. What made no sense was why it was there. Ash quickly scanned the content of the article around his photo. The only reference to him was completely true. He was the ranger in charge of the Otter Lake area. So what?

The project had enjoyed almost zero support on the ground here at the Reserve. Even without data and traffic projections, the effect on the habitat of The Aerie from construction alone had raised so many alarms. His objections were on record in the form of easily requested memos and reports, but it was almost like someone was setting him up to take the blame for this covert maneuver. He’d stated his objections publicly. How dumb would he have to be not to understand everyone would focus on him if he’d actually decided to leak the report? Even Ash could understand why he’d be the primary suspect.

If he never objected, everyone would assume he was the anonymous source who’d leaked the report to the governor. He checked for the journalist’s name on the story and turned to the computer to find a phone number.

Then he flipped to the next paper. Nothing. The story didn’t make the cut. “Finally. Some luck.”

When he reviewed his search results for the reporter’s contact info, Ash clicked the website link for the article and another photo of himself loaded. This time he was leaving the district office. “And I look like fifty miles of bad road.”

His uniform was wrinkled. His hat was missing. And his hair clearly exceeded the Reserve’s standards. Besides that, it might as well have been combed with a weed whacker.

Ash closed his eyes, but he could still see his own mess. “Why hasn’t the chief ranger called to rain his displeasure down? He told me to lay low and I did, but I’m still all over the front page and looking as if I slept in my uniform.” Silence from Knoxville’s district office was not a good sign.

“He called. I took a message.” Macy slowly reached over to pick up the Sweetwater paper. “You okay, boss?”

“I can tell things are serious when you call me ‘boss.’ Do I look that fragile?” Ash asked as he scrubbed his hand through his hair. From most of his staff, “boss” was an endearment. She meant it that way, too, but he preferred his name on her lips.

He didn’t really want anything putting more space between them, but the reminder of who they were, boss and important right hand, might be a gift.

When he realized he was still wearing the reading glasses, he yanked them off and tossed them in a desk drawer. He couldn’t do anything about the gray hair spreading at his temple.

“That’s what happened to your hair before they took the picture.” Macy leaned closer, the scent of magnolia and soap an easy reminder of better times. “And you don’t have to hide the glasses. They make you look...distinguished.”

“Another word for old. Distinguished.” Almost a decade older than Macy. The word twisted on his tongue. “Fits me today. These last few days have aged me at least ten years.”

“Anything I can do?” Macy asked brightly. He liked her energy, but today, she was too young, too healthy and strong. Compared to her, he felt brittle. Too little sleep. Too much time cooped up inside his small cabin with his own thoughts. A combination that was bad for him.

Ash braced his elbows on the desk and considered asking her advice on what to do to clear his name. Unless he convinced the Callaways and the chief ranger he’d had nothing to do with leaking that report, his job might be gone. His plan had made sense: get numbers, the data to show the impact of the construction and operation of the new lodge in black and white. Take the emotion out of the equation, all his family’s history. That had been his only goal. The Callaways had set aside this land and hired him to do the job of preserving. Ash had only been doing what he’d been asked to do, to request the study on the environmental impact.

But unless someone else came forward, who would believe his claims of innocence?

Macy might be able to figure out how to spin this story, so everything turned out the way it was supposed to. She did that daily with small problems. Could she help with this one?

“Don’t know what I’d do without you manning your post, Macy.” He’d meant it as nothing but a compliment. The way her face fell made him think he’d missed the mark, but she immediately straightened her shoulders and nodded. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

She disappeared a second before he blurted out something he would regret. What could he say?

I missed you.

A few other things came to mind, but that was what he wanted to say. Instead, he buried his head in the reports on his desk.

Visitation numbers were down.

Spending was flat.

Revenue coming in from the education programs and even what had been reported from the campground and marina...all lower than normal, even for December.

Dutifully, he scribbled his name, but it was difficult to continue. After hours of spreadsheets and incident reports filed by the law enforcement rangers over the weekend and So. Many. Emails. Ash leaned back in his chair and stared up at the water spot on the ceiling.

Primer and paint would fix that.

Did they have the budget? He covered his eyes, so weary.

“I’m off to grab some lunch. Want me to lock the front door?” Macy stood in the doorway, half in, half out. Her hesitation was unusual.

“We’re open regular hours today. I’ll cover the phones and the front.” And count the minutes until she got back.

“Should I send Brett for backup?” Macy asked.

Ash waved her off. “You’ve been stuck here all week. Get out. The paperwork fairy will leave you a gift on your desk.”

Instead of laughing or glaring or lecturing or any other Macy thing, she just...left. Silently.

At this point, he had a few choices to make.

He should call his sister. Winter was pretty close to the center of this mess as well and she had as much, if not more, to lose.

Would her engagement survive the storm? Would she blame Ash if Whit Callaway called off the wedding? This lodge was the Callaway family’s current cause, an expansion on the Reserve after five generations of conservation.

It would make them a lot of money.

Politicians always required a lot of money.

Another suspect might be all he needed to settle the Callaway family down. All he had to do was think.

The water spot resembled a standard poodle. Further study turned up no other ideas for the report’s leaker.

“Well, there’s me.” Frustrated that he was the only logical suspect, Ash folded the newspapers and tossed them into the trash can. He heard an imaginary Macy bark “Recycle!” in his ear so he pulled them out and dropped them on top of the leaning pile behind his chair. “Since I know I didn’t leak this report, there has to be someone else.”

Fatigued, yet ready for a project he could complete quickly, Ash picked up his glasses and settled in to read Macy’s outline of events for the coming open house. Not because he was concerned she’d forgotten anything, but just because it was nice to live in her organized world. “I should have asked for pie.”

CHAPTER THREE

GETTING OUT OF the visitor center had seemed like a good idea until Macy had to decide where to go. Most days, she spent her lunch hour at her desk. The only difference between a lunch hour and a regular hour was the addition of a turkey sandwich and the fruit of the day.

After three days cooped up and Ash’s return—which should have made everything right, but instead filled the air with a new kind of tension—Macy had to do something different. The urge to change things up was getting stronger, but she wasn’t sure where to start. Escape, temporary though it was, was a first step.

“A beautiful day for eating at the campground diner. No phones. No worrying over Ash.” For December, it was beautiful weather. Sunny. Warm enough to forget that Christmas was lurking somewhere in the near distance.

Although spending the holiday alone meant it was pretty much like any other day.

Except there was no work. No ranger station.

No distraction.

No Ash.

“But it gives you plenty of time to catch up on all your projects, Macy Elizabeth. Free time is a luxury you better appreciate.” Even her grandmother would have taken off Christmas Day. All the chores could wait. Since she was the last of her particular branch of Gentrys and holidays could be lonely, Macy had already decided she’d spend the holiday hiking Yanu Falls. Getting outside of her apartment would be required.

Her inability to name any projects she was dying to finish was something she needed to think about. She’d moved to Sweetwater when Administrative Services had offered her a permanent position running the visitor information desk at the Otter Lake Ranger Station. During her first year with the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve, she’d bounced around locations, doing a wide variety of temporary assignments. The job she had now, managing the visitor center and administration support, fit her best. Even the months she’d spent in the district office in Knoxville had been less satisfying, although some people would think the ranger station was a step down.

The minute she’d signed a lease on a one-bedroom apartment in town, Macy knew she’d found her home.

Friends were easy enough to claim in the small town. Odella at the coffee shop remembered how she ordered her coffee. She and Astrid, the town’s librarian, had spent many a Friday night at The Branch bemoaning the town’s lack of night life.

And then there was Ash, the man who...

Approved her timesheets.

Looked like he wanted to pat her on the head now and then.

Needed her.

Enough wasting time, Macy.

That familiar voice in her head belonged to her no-nonsense grandmother. Gran had been easy enough for Macy to love, but the whole town of Myrtle Bend, Georgia, and the three cousins Macy claimed there had always trembled when she drove down Main Street.

Gran had been fierce. Tough. Some days, Macy had to remind herself that fierce made people uncomfortable. As long as she’d remembered that, that it was easier to get along than follow in Gran’s tradition, making Sweetwater home had been easy enough.

Still, she’d be fighting that bossy voice in her head until she died.

“Lunch is an hour, Macy. Quit wasting precious seconds,” she muttered to herself, a bad habit she wasn’t even trying to break.

After days alone at work and at home, Macy was ready to make conversation. The campground diner would have food and people, so it was an easy choice.

As Macy pulled into the deserted parking lot, she worried the diner was somehow closed for business that day. Then she realized if anyone should know the schedule for the Otter Lake Campground convenience store-slash-marina-slash-diner, it would be her. She could recite the hours with a second’s notice, both winter and summer.

Normally, at least one or two cars would be parked in front of the glass doors, even in winter.

“Business must be slower than usual.” Macy slid out of the car and marched inside. “I should do this more often.” For some reason, she’d always imagined a wild lunch rush, filled with loud conversations and not enough time.

When Christina Braswell turned to greet her, Macy was relieved. They didn’t know each other well, but Christina was a familiar face, and they had a built-in topic of easy conversation: Christina’s boyfriend, Ranger Brett Hendrix. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Macy said.

“Yeah, I usually handle the breakfast shift, but Luisa asked me to stay later this week because she’s on vacation. If she’d known how few people would be through here, she might have shut the place down.” Christina held her arms wide. “Pick a spot. Any spot. I suggest the large booth by the window. I can stretch out my legs.”

Did that mean she was joining Macy? Macy had only planned to order something to go. Ash was no good with the phones and if a reporter came in...

Do something different, Macy. He’s a grown man, not a child. Ash Kingfisher would not appreciate her rushing back because she was afraid he couldn’t handle being left alone.

“Come on. This once, have a lunch here. At a table. With refilled drinks and everything.” Christina folded her hands beneath her chin. “Please. It’s so slow. I’m begging.”

Macy laughed. “Okay. I’ll take the best seat in the house and your finest club sandwich, all the fries you have and a big glass of tea. Might as well do this right.” Even out-of-towner Macy had been warned about wild Christina Braswell. Apparently, the people of Sweetwater had long memories, because all the stories she’d heard featured a teenage girl out of control. Granted, Macy’s grandmother would have rained down fire if she’d ever been caught stealing. People changed. Macy had seen nothing but positive things from Christina, and the way she clapped her hands in delight when Macy slid into the booth was just charming.

Brett Hendrix was one of the best guys she knew. All signs pointed to people being dead wrong about Christina.

Never let people tell you what you can see with your own eyes, Macy. Her grandmother’s impatience for all types of foolishness meant she never fell for stupid gossip.

“Friendly company.” Christina pointed at her. “I knew I liked you. Monroe, put the cookie dough away. We’ve got a lunch to make.” She turned around to slip an order through the window to the kitchen and then banged around making Macy’s drink.

“The kid’s been testing cookie recipes for your open house. He mans the grill well enough, but he was born to bake.”

“I only asked for drinks. Tea and hot chocolate.” When she’d finagled a yes out of Ash for the open house and managed to get the chief ranger’s approval, Macy hadn’t wanted to push the cost or overdo on the details.

“You ordered drinks as I recall,” Christina answered. “If we were busy, Luisa would have never offered to do cookies, too, but we aren’t and Monroe makes a mean chocolate chip.”

Christina set a glass on the table as Macy’s phone lit up with a text. It said, Pecan pie. Please.

She shook her head. The man could issue an order using a meager two words in a text. That please had been a tacked-on afterthought.

It was a sign of growth.

Macy sighed. “And make sure I leave here with at least one slice of pecan pie.” It was a good thing she knew her boss so well. Ash was having a hard day. Things were weird at work and between them, but he could still count on her. Pie always helped.

He depended on her to understand that. “No problem. Brett never delivers bad news without a slice of pie in hand. Plenty of news lately, and it does seem kinda bad.” Christina hurried behind the counter to box up the pie. She brought a white to-go bag and two beautiful sandwiches to Macy. “I guess I was waiting to have lunch today for a good reason.”

When they’d doctored the fries with ketchup and had both taken satisfying bites, they turned to stare out over the calm water of Otter Lake.

“It’s nice to be slow sometimes. I like a chance to enjoy this view.” Christina sipped her water and stretched slowly. “I like sitting down even more.”

“I could not do what you do.” Macy shook her head. Life at the ranger station was about silence and peace, broken only by the occasional visitor and the chance to tell them all about the reserve she loved. Sometimes school groups came in and the racket nearly blew the ceiling off, but there was something about the enthusiasm of kids that made it bearable. Loud, pushy adults set Macy’s teeth on edge. “Your job is hard. Remembering who ordered what. Juggling plates and chairs and all the coming and going. Being nice to people for all that time.”

“I am a wonder, it’s true.” Christina grinned. As she chewed, she said, “Pretty sure I used to be the world’s worst waitress, though.”

“What changed?” Macy asked before she took another bite. Seriously. Why didn’t she do this more? It was a sandwich, nothing special, but it tasted better than any meal she’d had in... She couldn’t even remember. Had to be the atmosphere.

“Well...” Christina wiped her mouth. “Couple things changed. I needed to keep the job.” She held up a finger. “Very important discovery. Then, I realized how little it takes to make people happy. Remembering an order or calling someone by name or relaying a tidbit of a story. That’s it. They’re convinced I’m awesome, even if I forget they asked for mayo on the side.”

Macy nodded. “Doesn’t hurt that a handsome man comes through at least once a day to kiss you, either.” She grinned. “Right?”

“It has certainly added to my current job satisfaction. Life is weird.” Christina sighed before attacking her lunch again.

Macy laughed, having thought the same thing for most of the morning. She and Christina ate in silence. Every now and then, a slow ripple in the water sent a bright flash across the table in reflection. “This is nice. I’d be satisfied here, too.”

“Your view at the station’s pretty good. Green trees. Enough handsome ranger action to keep the blood perking. We’re lucky to be surrounded by beauty.” Christina balled her napkin up and stretched back with a sigh as she extended her legs. “Brett says some of the chaos has died down.”

“Yeah, Ash is back to work. I wonder if the calm will hold when word gets out.” Macy shrugged. “I’ll keep an eye out if those reporters come back around.”

Christina fiddled with her straw wrapper. “The way gossip spreads around here, there may be a news caravan already headed your way. It’s all the locals will talk about lately. Especially whether Ash Kingfisher is responsible for delaying the lodge project that everyone’s hoping will bring more people and therefore more dollars to the area. The crowds through here have disappeared. Only the diehards like Woody, Janet and Regina have been coming in for breakfast. Tourists?” She shrugged. “Not enough to speak of right now. According to Woody, there’s a lot of pot stirring in town, calling for locals to boycott the whole Reserve, including the campground, until Ash admits he’s behind this leaked report. The Callaways will replace him, get the lodge back on schedule, and in will pour the jobs. Brett says when the number of visitors drop and the revenues drop, the district office will want to know why. If all of Sweetwater is pointing at Ash, it could mean trouble.” She glanced around the restaurant. “See how all the talk in town is working out here?”