“Never met bad news he didn’t like.” He’d gotten a reputation as Mr. Doom because he was forced to point out problems with the lodge project.
But he did all that upfront, no sneaking around.
The mayor and town council of Sweetwater and other places that depended on the Reserve for tourism wanted the lodge. They could see money coming in, and the guy who’d insisted it was a bad deal for the Reserve itself was never going to be popular.
It made sense that folks suspected he’d stirred up the governor’s office.
Ash only wished he’d thought of it. Construction was scheduled to begin in less than a month. All this media frenzy stirred up by the governor might mean nothing, but if it delayed the lodge until he could come up with a permanent solution, it would all be worth the trouble. The architect’s plans were going to be confirmed at the next board meeting. His plan had been to present the report he’d commissioned on the impact of building at The Aerie at the same time.
Someone had beaten him to the punch, though.
And while he’d been trying to sleep last night, it had hit him that his sister would be tangled up in the same mess for however long it lasted. What if her job was in danger because of her connection to him? Worse. What if Whit Callaway was stupid enough to blow up their engagement over this lodge report?
After the chief ranger had suggested getting solid support for his position against building at The Aerie, he’d commissioned the report, but he’d talked to Winter about the findings. Showing it to her had changed her middle-of-the-road attitude to firm opposition to construction of the lodge. It could have worked for the board of directors as well.
Would she and Callaway be able to weather this trouble and the suspicion that Ash was sabotaging Whit’s political career?
He loved his little sister. This better not hurt her.
The fact that he hadn’t heard from her since the news broke made it impossible to pretend he might ever fall asleep again, leaving him plenty of time to make an early morning visit to Buckeye Cove.
“Silver linings to the storm clouds.” Ash chose a spot in the empty parking lot of the ranger station and slowly slid out of the SUV. The lack of a crowd out front was a relief. Leland had been right; with no Ash on hand, the reporters had moved on to other angles for their stories.
What would happen when word got around that he was back at his desk?
Maybe he should have taken the whole week as the chief ranger had ordered.
“I’m here now. Might as well clear my desk.” If the reporters or angry Sweetwater citizens started gathering, he could disappear.
Ash grabbed the hat he only wore on official visits and when he was forced to. Safety procedures were life. Uniforms inspired respect and gave his staff a professional image. But the hat? Carrying the thing was good enough, even if it was time for a haircut.
Letting his own standards slip would never do, no matter how off track his whole week had been.
As soon as he stepped inside the open space of the lobby, some of his anxiety melted. He could smell coffee. Macy was nearby. Every inch of the visitor center was in order. His office manager had been busy. Natural greenery framed the line of windows, while a giant wreath with white lights had been hung on the wall behind her desk. The holidays at the ranger station were usually low-key, but this year, Macy had badgered him into hosting an open house. They had new displays. Attendance numbers needed a boost. Everything she’d said made sense.
But now he was the center of a controversy. The last thing he wanted was to issue an invitation for people to stop and stare. Should he reconsider the open house?
Worse, would it turn into a picket line instead of a party?
The new winter educational displays were impressive.
Losing the head education ranger was a blow he’d have to focus on soon. The other park rangers responsible for teaching programs and guiding visitors had picked up the extra work, but someone needed to direct their activities, someone who could expand the Reserve’s reach.
He’d move finding that person to the top of the list.
Right after he soothed Macy, figured out how to clear the suspicion that he’d torpedoed the lodge project and found out whether his sister was brokenhearted or not, he’d finish applying for approval to hire a new education director.
Why was he so tired all of a sudden?
“Well, now, I wondered when I might see you again,” Macy drawled as she strolled over to block the pathway to his office. That was how she got him to stop: a full-blown barrier. If they were boxers in a ring, she’d be squared up and ready to fight.
Getting over that hurdle was job number one.
He should have spent more time figuring out what to say.
“Yeah, haven’t seen you in some time.” Ash ran a hand down his nape and fought back a wince as her eyebrows shot up. Not the way to go.
“You think you can make jokes, Ash Kingfisher?” Macy wildly shook her head. “That’s just another sign the world is off-kilter. Out. Of. Control. You don’t make jokes. You grunt. Sometimes you complain. Other times, you do thoughtful things that keep me from seriously considering doctoring your coffee in a bad way. But now, details. I want them.”
“Fine. Leland called me to Knoxville, where he and the Callaways questioned me about the environmental impact study I commissioned on the building plans at The Aerie. As I hope you’ve guessed, I had no information to give them. This isn’t me, but convincing anyone in Knoxville of that is going to take some effort. Leland told me to lay low all week, avoid the press and the staff of the Reserve, but I couldn’t.” The urge to tell her he’d missed her smile even more than he’d missed his desk or Otter Lake was strong, but he fought it back. To her, he was just the boss and not...anything else.
He dodged her to head straight for the coffeemaker, grateful his bum leg made it possible. His mug was sitting in front. Like she’d expected him. He filled the fish-shaped mug and covered the Don’t Bait Me on the side with both hands as he took the first sip. When he opened his eyes, Macy was propping one shoulder against the door frame, doing her best impression of a patient woman. Not a hair was out of place, but the temperature in the air suggested he was pressing his luck. “The fact that I requested the study, Winter’s engaged to a Callaway, the construction company is owned by a Callaway, the Reserve is involved... I’m right in the center of all the speculation and it makes sense to anyone who doesn’t know me.” He took another long drink of the coffee, acknowledged his burned taste buds and enjoyed the slow roll of caffeine into his system. “Was it terrible here?”
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
