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