Of course they were.
“Business goes on, even when scandal hits.” She tapped the reports she’d intended to power through before the phone started ringing. “I’ve got plenty to do. The open house is less than two weeks away, and this place is not close to ready. When we show off the new education panels that Ash has been working so hard on, I want this whole building to shine. I want the parking lot to be filled to overflowing with our neighbors from Sweetwater. With no Ash bothering me to find things in clear sight on his desk, I should make record time.” Except she and Ash were a team. Working without him wasn’t easy.
“He’ll get here as soon as he can. You know he loves this place.” Brett pointed at the small office he used whenever he was in the ranger station. “I’ll catch up on some paperwork. You call me if things escalate or you need help.”
Macy saluted, but paused before digging into her most urgent task.
It had taken a long time to find the place that fit her like a perfectly tailored dress. In the end, she’d had to make it for herself, but she had it now. As work spaces went, hers ruled. Cramped offices formed a ring on three sides of the airy lobby which was filled with educational panels about the flora and fauna of the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve. Ruthlessly straightened and organized maps and pamphlets lined the wall across from her desk. Everything was in reach, which made it simple to keep the place running smoothly.
The boxes stacked in the corner had been annoying her for a week. Ever since she’d met a large snake in the small outbuilding used for storage, Macy refused to enter it. Ash had moved these boxes in for her recently because it was time to put out the holiday decorations.
After Ash’s reports were done, she’d get on that. It would distract her from the strange tension in the air.
Ash Kingfisher was as much a part of the fabric of the ranger station as the chair she sat in, the view out the windows and the easy peace she felt when she walked into the lobby. Without him grumbling away at his desk, everything was slightly askew. His absence left a hole.
Her only option? “Get to work, Macy Elizabeth Gentry. There’s no time for moodiness.” She could hear the words in her grandmother’s no-nonsense voice, so she straightened in her chair, set about clearing her missed calls and then compiling the visitor stats for Ash’s review.
When he came back into the office, he was going to be impressed with what she’d pulled off. She would raise some stink over being initially left out of the loop, and then things would return to normal.
ASH KINGFISHER HATED missing days at the ranger station. The amount of paperwork that shuffled across his desk was enough to drown any strong bureaucrat.
It wasn’t what Ash had planned for or wanted. Ever since his first encounter with a ranger on the trail up to The Aerie with his grandfather, he’d dreamed of becoming a law enforcement ranger; getting paid to spend days out on the Reserve, the uniform, even the hat, all of it had seemed his perfect job. But he’d landed behind a desk when a mistake had robbed him of the full use of his leg. Was he good at his job? Yes. That didn’t mean he loved the sound of pen scratching across paper as he signed an unending stack of reports.
After three days out of the office? He’d need a life preserver, an unlimited coffee supply and all the organizational ability of the best right hand ever, one Macy Gentry. Most days, she was all the help he needed to make it through.
Today, even her skills might not be enough.
This forced vacation reminded him that he missed seeing her every day. Macy was the bright ray of light that cut through his shadow. No matter what happened today, it would be better than the rest of the week because they’d be together.
His visit to see the chief ranger in Knoxville had been predictable. Frank talk, so many questions about who might have released the report if it hadn’t been him, a tense phone conversation with Whit Callaway, Senior, followed by the chief ranger’s orders to stay out of sight for a full week, answer zero phone calls and knocks on his door, and let Brett and Macy handle the Reserve’s business. He hated it.
A full week? Seventy-eight hours was all Ash could manage. He needed his desk, his view of the forests and the comfortable sounds of Macy running the world outside his door. The park guides needed a new schedule. Brett was handling all the incident reports that landed on his desk, doing Ash’s job. And Macy was forced to juggle all the tiny crises that hit every day in a busy place like Otter Lake.
Ash closed his eyes and tried to breathe in the peace of the Buckeye Cove along Wattie Run, one of the smaller creeks that flowed into Otter Lake. At this time of year, few animals were stirring in the cold hours before dawn, but the heart of the land was still beating. He tried to concentrate on his own heartbeat. If he was successful, it would drown out the chaos that had taken over his brain ever since he’d gotten an angry phone call from his boss Monday morning.
When the faintest pink of sunrise over the mountains stained his eyelids, he gave up. It wasn’t that he was a big believer in meditation, but when times got hard, he knew he had to go to the water.
Very little of his father’s Cherokee heritage had trickled down and stuck with him, but this was unshakable. His sister could tell stories and share their history easily because she’d soaked it in. For him, he had to be outdoors to truly feel alive. Today, the sound, the smell, the quiet of his spot beside the running water were necessary.
He needed to absorb enough silence and calm to make it through what would be a hard day.
Winter was his least favorite season, but attendance numbers dropped in the Reserve and there was more time in the day to get outside. To get away from the ringing phone and back to what made him love his job. The land he worked hard to protect. His father’s favorite fishing hole. The place his grandmother’s youngest brother had told him about the legend of Rabbit tricking Possum, leaving him with a tail without a single hair. The background of the old faded wedding photo his mother loved to show him. She’d been the original hippie, even if she’d come to Sweetwater and Otter Lake on a spring break trip from her Ivy League school forty years ago, about a decade too late to claim the name.
Donna Warren and Martin Kingfisher had met on a hike; as soon as she’d graduated, Donna had left New England behind to find her real home in Tennessee.
She and his father had married with a small group of friends who’d made the climb up to the overlook of Yanu Falls. From his spot, he could hear the falls rustling in the summertime. Right now, the water was more of a slide along a frozen surface down into the lake.
But that was okay. It was only for a season. In the spring, everything would change again.
He’d held on to that promise, that things would change again, for a long time.
Unfortunately, sometimes when the promise came true, things only got worse.
“Dark. Real dark, Kingfisher.” Ash forced himself to stand, the ache in his leg worse than when he’d started out that morning. Sitting on cold rock could do that to a man. Eventually, he’d either have to give up his favorite hike, or he’d have to admit old age and bad decisions had caught up with him and find a place with a bench. “So it’s going to be like that, is it? Nothing but rain clouds and thunder.”
The hoot of an owl stopped him in his tracks. “Oh, fine. That’s not creepy timing.” If his grandmother had been near, she’d insist the owl was a messenger. Somehow, every omen had to do with death the way his enisi told it. “Could be good news, Ash. And messages are just messages, anyway.”
Frustrated with himself, Ash limped back to the Reserve SUV sitting alone in the tiny parking lot. The push to get the Reserve’s attendance numbers up hadn’t taken off, and this latest catastrophe was going to be a distraction. To address