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.
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