Her Heart's Bargain. Cheryl Harper
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hook with reporters looking for comments from Ash. Is Winter around? If there’s an official answer I’m supposed to be giving, I’d love to have it.” Winter Kingfisher, Ash’s sister, was the public information officer for the Reserve. If anyone had prepared a statement, Winter would have it ready to go.
Kayla answered in a low voice, “Winter isn’t in the office. She was here, but she left in a hurry after I put a call through from Whit Callaway.” The last two words were whispered.
Macy watched more news vans park in front of the door. “Have you seen Ash?”
Kayla cleared her throat. “Yeah, but he’s been in with the chief ranger. My orders are to say nothing but politely. Maybe you can manage the same.”
“Good advice. When Ash comes out, could you have him call me?” Macy asked.
“I’ll try, but the atmosphere here is tense, you know?” Kayla answered. “The chief just stepped out to take a call from the Callaways, so Ash’s meeting may be over soon, anyway.”
“Thanks, Kayla.” Macy ended the call and straightened as her phone immediately rang again. Reporter? Or Ash?
Macy picked up her phone to text Ash an update. Reporters at the front door. Where are you?
She chewed the tip of her fingernail as she waited. Texting was Ash’s preferred mode of communication. Even in person, he spoke as few words as possible.
After what seemed like a lifetime, but must have been all of three seconds, Ash answered. Keep telling them: no comment. Brett is on the way. My orders are to avoid the press and the ranger station for now, but he’s close.
Macy considered a few different answers but settled on encouraging. We can handle the reporters. This will blow over.
When he didn’t immediately answer, Macy wished she’d erased the last line of the text before she’d hit Send.
Eventually, Ash answered. You can handle anything, Gentry, but I don’t want you to have to do it alone.
Macy clasped a hand over her stomach as a weird twist settled there. Ash was confident in her ability as always. His concern for her was sweet, different from his normal stoic self.
Take your time in Knoxville. We’ll talk when you get home. Satisfied that she hadn’t crossed the line into warm and fuzzy, Macy put her phone down carefully.
Right. Brett’s estimated time of arrival... Macy turned to check the oversize clock perched right behind her desk. Two minutes late. “That polecat should be here by now.” The crowd outside had grown. Now the reporters had been joined by Sweetwater’s mayor, two of the old guys who loitered in the barbershop on Saturday and Macy’s landlord. They weren’t marching, but the signs they were waving signaled their protest.
“Save Sweetwater jobs. More tourists equal more tax dollars equal more school spending. Callaway for Tennessee.” Macy read the signs and had to admit they deserved extra points for preparation. The one with the equal signs and the dollar signs replacing every S was painted in neon orange. If four picketers had shown up this quickly after the story broke, how large could the crowd grow? The people milling around on the sidewalk appeared to be waiting for someone, but eventually, they would come inside.
Unless she locked the door.
Could she do that?
She could do it, but should she? Her finger hovered over the panic button Ash had insisted be installed the previous summer when one of the national park rangers had come under fire. If she pushed it, the doors locked and an emergency alert went out to all the law enforcement rangers. Macy had argued then that it was the rangers who needed better protection, not office managers, but today she was wondering if she was going to have to tell Ash he’d been right after all.
That panic button would remain unpushed until Macy drew her last breath. Ash couldn’t be right. The man was right too often for her peace of mind as it was.
Then Brett Hendrix’s SUV rolled in and it was almost as if she could hear the cavalry bugles playing in the distance. He was only a man, but Brett had the training, the badge and Ash’s respect to back him up.
The way all the reporters immediately swarmed him, microphones out and cameras flashing, convinced Macy that no matter what was going on, Ash had made a couple of good decisions already.
Being scarce at this point was his best defense.
Macy stood and did her best to smooth any wrinkles out of her pants before straightening her navy blue Reserve shirt. Ash insisted every staff member wear the uniform and treat it with respect.
When the television cameras turned to her, she figured she’d better look the part.
As she opened the front door, Macy heard Brett say, “I have no new information on the status of the lodge project.”
“But is the governor’s insistence that there be an investigation a political maneuver?” a tall, thin man at the back of the pack shouted.
Brett held up both hands signaling he had no way of knowing. Macy was certain that was the only possible answer. How were they to know what the governor had intended by seizing this environmental impact study and taking a stand? Common sense said it was about causing trouble for his political opponent, but how much further would he go than stirring up the news media?
Macy had met the guy once. Richard Duncan had run on a platform of “Tennessee First” and had taped one of his campaign commercials on Otter Lake. He’d been surrounded by an entourage at least four people deep. A hurried handshake was the best he could manage.
“Why isn’t the Reserve’s public information officer, Winter Kingfisher, here answering these questions?” Bailey Garcia shouted from her spot in the front row. “Surely, she’d have good information, Ranger Hendrix, being so close to all involved. She’s employed by the Callaways, engaged to the governor’s rival and the sister of Ash Kingfisher.”
Brett propped his hands on his hips. “Great suggestion. As the Reserve’s public outreach officer, Winter would be your best source. You can contact the district office in Knoxville for more details. She does not work in this office, so she isn’t here for your questions.”
Everyone was using their official voices today. The last time Macy had heard Brett speaking like that, he’d been lecturing his daughter about protecting her brother instead of running con games on him. Riley Hendrix had the sort of gumption Macy admired. Today with that stern tone, if Brett had rolled up to her campsite, she’d have said “yes, sir” and “no, sir” until he left, and then wondered later what had come over her. Authority came with the badge, but the voice helped.
“Where is the head ranger?” Bailey asked.
“He was called to the district office early this morning. I don’t know when he will return, but—” Brett looked over his shoulder at Macy “—Ms. Gentry will take down your information so that Ranger Kingfisher can get back to each of you in due course.”
Macy waved a pen and pad, as if she was desperate to be writing down names and numbers.
No one was satisfied with that answer.
Brett listened to the jumble of shouted questions for another minute before interjecting. “I have nothing further to add. You can stay here if you like, but we ask that you move to one side. The visitor center and offices are open for business.” Instead of hanging around to watch them move, Brett turned and ushered Macy inside.
Their steps rang through the empty lobby as they walked back to her desk. Gleaming hardwood floors and the vaulted cathedral ceiling meant every step echoed.
Macy did her best not to flop into her chair, aware that she had an audience. She perched carefully and crammed a hundred questions into one raised eyebrow.
Brett made a solid wall between her and the reporters, his shoulders blocking the view. “They’re still there, aren’t they? That’s scarier than dealing with an angry bear