Far Country

by Malone, Karen

  Deborah surveyed his rumpled uniform and sour expression with surprise and some amusement. “Looks like you had a rough night,” she remarked, her eyes dancing.

  “I don’t want to talk about it, thanks,” he grumbled, self consciously raking his fingers through his rumpled hair. Quickly he returned his arm to his side – his arm pits were definitely on the ripe side.

  “Well, it should be a light evening, at least,” she reassured him. Only about 20 sites are filled so far.” She handed him the clipboard and the cash box. “It’s going to be chilly tonight. If you’d like, I’ll help you load up some extra firewood bundles to take around,” she offered.

  Steve frowned at the schedule. “Where’s Davis? We’re supposed to work together this shift.”

  “Sick,” Deborah informed Steve. “You must have just missed him. He tried to clock in but threw up - off the back deck fortunately! He barely made it outside. Anyway, he’s running a fever of 102 degrees. I sent him home.”

  Steve looked around, taking an inventory of the staff in his head, but pulled a blank as to who might be available to work. “Then who’s going to fill in for him?” He asked her at last.

  “Well, at the moment, nobody,” she told him unhappily. “Chuck’s in Winston Salem, Jill’s on vacation, and Pete took his truck to town to get the brakes fixed. I called him but it's already up on the lift and they won’t be done with it for a while yet.

  “What about Wallis?”

  Deborah shook her head. “He had a hot date and was gone before anyone could corner him.”

  “Great,” Steve muttered unenthusiastically. “This day is getting better and better.”

  Deborah got a guilty pained expression on her face. “I’ll stay on with you until someone gets back,” she offered. “You don’t look as if you’re feeling too good, either.”

  “No,” Steve replied, feeling slightly ashamed of his grouchy attitude. “I’m fine, really. I just couldn’t get to sleep last night, then I fell asleep on the couch this morning and didn’t wake up until half an hour ago. My clothes are dirty and I didn’t even have time to eat, so I’m starving too. He attempted a reassuring smile. “Go on home. I’ll be all right once I get started. I’m just out of sorts right now."

  “Tell you what,” Deb said sympathetically. “I’ll fix you some dinner and bring it back over. You can eat it between circuits.”

  Steve smiled in pleasure. “I’ll take you up on that offer,” he told her appreciatively. “Thanks, Deb.”

  She smiled. “No problem.”

  He hesitated. “I hear that you and Pete have finally decided on a spring wedding. Congratulations, Deb.”

  Deborah’s face wreathed in a huge smile. “Yes, finally!” She sighed. “We just have to figure out what date is best for everyone to come up here.”

  “Here?” Steve asked in surprise. “I figured you would have convinced Pete that you wanted to be married in your father’s church!”

  “Well, I do want dad to perform the ceremony,” Deborah agreed. “But Pete and I have pretty much agreed on an outdoor wedding. Possibly here, even, if we get the Park’s permission. It’s going to be different from the average wedding, though. Something fun.”

  “Huh,” Steve said, noncommittally, afraid to ask what she meant by 'different'.

  “Nothing’s final yet, of course. It’s just an idea.” She said quickly.

  “I’m sure you’ll get it worked out,” Steve replied. His stomach growled loudly, and Steve flushed in embarrassment. “You sure you don’t mind bringing me some dinner?”

  “I’ll get right on it,” she assured him, grinning at his discomfiture. “I’ll meet you back here with it in about an hour.”

  “Great, see you then!” Steve said, hoping he could last the whole hour. He left the Center and strode out to the truck, determined to get busy and get his mind off his empty belly. As he drove to the firewood dump pile and started to load the bundles into the bed of the truck, he tried to imagine just what Deborah meant by an outdoor wedding. When she had said ‘here’, did she mean at the Visitor’s Center? He had a hard time picturing how that would work, although the back deck had a great view of Moore’s knob, and it was an excellent spot to watch the sun set. Still, unless it was a very small wedding, the deck would be really crowded!

  Then a more disturbing thought struck him. What had she meant by 'fun'? That didn’t sound like a wedding ceremony at the Visitor’s Center…a more extreme kind of wedding flashed through his mind. He imagined Pete and Deb saying “I do”, then rappelling over the side of The Wall. He winced involuntarily, not sure he would even want to attend.

  Steve had yet to return to The Wall, and now that he was back in the mountains, he found that he had mixed feelings about rappelling and rock climbing in general. A shiver passed through him that had little to do with the northerly breeze. Angered and annoyed by his reaction to the idea of rappelling, Steve heaved two more bundles in to the truck bed. He jumped in his truck and gunned the motor, kicking out a rooster tail of gravel as he shot up the private drive.

  Suddenly a fox flashed across the road in front of him. Steve slammed on the brake, skidding sideways and barely missing the little animal. Slumped behind the wheel, Steve found himself shaking slightly, a thin sheen of sweat dotting his brow. He took several deep breaths, willing himself to calm down.

  Steve wiped his sticky brow in disgust. Some ranger he’d be if it got out that he was afraid of heights! And what would he do when Gracie came to visit if she wanted to try some rock climbing herself? She had already talked excitedly about the idea.

  Soon, he promised himself. He would walk out on that outcropping of rock and face this insidious fear that turned his insides to jelly and made his knees grow weak whenever he simply thought about standing on that spot again!

  Of course, he had been saying that for almost the whole two weeks that he’d been back. When would he get up the courage, and just go do it? Disgusted with himself, Steve turned the truck toward the campsites, and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Slowly he cruised the main circle, checking for new arrivals. He sold several bundles of firewood and registered three newly occupied sites. He turned onto the extension where a woman and four teenage girls were setting up three tents. At least, the woman and two of the girls were busy working to set up their tents. The other two girls who should have been working on the third tent were busy arguing with each other. One girl that Steve guessed to be about fifteen, gesticulated wildly, her exasperation evident, and her voice shrill with frustration. The fourth girl was a redhead, tall and slender with her head held high, who glared stonily back at her angry friend, her arms crossed over her chest in defiance, her eyes glittering from recent tears.

  The woman straightened up and sighed at the sight of the two combatants. “Alyssa, just go sit over there at the picnic table, and try to work on your attitude,” she scolded tiredly. “I’m not driving you back. I’m sorry about your boyfriend troubles, but it will have to keep until Sunday.”

  She brushed some stray hair that was as red as her teenager’s out of her face and Steve could see that she was working hard to maintain a reasonable tone of voice with the girl. “We’ve always enjoyed our weekend up here, Alyssa. Until last week, you were as excited as your sister about coming on this trip. Please don’t ruin the whole weekend for everybody.”

  The girl named Alyssa stomped to the table and flung herself down on the bench. As far as Steve could see, this Alyssa had no intention of improving her attitude or making the weekend pleasant for anybody. He grimaced slightly, wondering how Gracie would behave when she got old enough to date.

  Forcing an easy smile, he approached the woman, who stood with her back to him, still shaking her head at Alyssa’s ill humor.

  “Hi there,” he said. “Welcome to Hanging Rock.”

  Startled, the woman whirled to face him then smiled awkwardly, clearly a little embarrassed. Her eyes widened as a strange look, almost of recognition, cros
sed her face. She quickly regained her composure though. “Just a moment,” she said. “My purse is still in the car.”

  Pretty, Steve acknowledged in his head. Nice smile. She must really take good care of herself, he thought, because he would never have guessed she was old enough to be the mother of teenaged girls. He followed her to the vehicle, taking the moment while she rummaged in her purse to copy down the license plate for the registration sheet. “Tent troubles?” he inquired softly.

  She rolled her eyes toward the picnic table. “Teenage boyfriend troubles,” she replied under her breath. “Apparently they’ve been fighting all week, but the little coward sent her a text message telling her he wanted to break up about 10 minutes ago.” She gave him a long suffering smile. “It could be a long weekend.”

  “Roast some marshmallows,” Steve advised with a grin. “Smore’s and a campfire seem to cure a lot of temperamental moments.”

  She shook her head dubiously. “I don’t think that they have enough chocolate in North Carolina to cheer this one up. She enjoys her misery too much.” She handed him her driver’s license and began to fill out the check.

  “How many nights are you planning to stay?” He asked as he filled out the receipt.

  “She shot a quick glance toward the girl named Alyssa. “Two, I hope.”

  Steve heard the uncertainty in her voice. “You can pay by the night, if you’re not sure,” he offered.

  “Thanks, I think I’ll do that,” she agreed.

  Steve began copying the information from the driver’s license onto the registration. Kelly McGuire…nice name, he thought. … Hair color red, green eyes…he glanced at her again, but decided that despite the similar coloring, she looked nothing like Deborah. Where Deborah was petite and freckled, this lady was tall and slender, with porcelain skin. Her hair was a deep mahogany red-brown and trailed halfway down her back in a French braid. Birthdate….Steve did a quick calculation and glance back at her in surprise. Twenty-three? “Tell me these aren’t all your kids!” He blurted unexpectedly.

  Kelly McGuire started, her green eyes wide in surprise then she laughed. “The girls? Heavens, no! Two of them are my nieces, and the other two are their friends. I take 'em camping every year as an anniversary present to my sister – but this year I just might be charging,” she ended grimly.

  “I hear you,” Steve agreed, handing her back the license. “Need any firewood?”

  Kelly nodded. “Two bundles, please.”

  She walked with him to his truck. Steve handed her a bundle, but carried the second bundle back to the fire pit himself. He looked around the campsite, where the two younger girls were beginning to make headway with their tent, but the older girls had yet to do more than empty the bag. Steve took pity on the miserable group. He pointed at the older girl who was now sitting glumly next to Alyssa. “What’s that one named?” He asked.

  “That one’s Jenny,” Kelly replied.

  “Not yours?”

  Kelly shook her head. “Unfortunately, I’m related to the drama queen.”

  Steve looked at her questioningly. “Do you mind?”

  Kelly shrugged.

  Steve walked back to the site. “Hey, Jenny. Let’s work on this tent together. I bet you and I can get it set up in no time.”

  Jenny spun around on the bench in surprise. She looked at Steve and flushed with embarrassment. Steve had already picked up the tent rod that supported the roof, and slipped it into the first sleeve. “Grab the end,” he encouraged her.

  Nervously, Jenny reached for the end and with Steve’s help, slid the rod through the second sleeve. Steve tied the top strap to steady the rods and then he and Jenny tucked the ends of the rods into the corner grommets. The top arched up and Jenny grinned shyly at the handsome ranger.

  Steve smiled back in approval. “Good job. Can you stake the corners yourself?”

  Jenny nodded, and accepted the mallet and four tent pegs.

  Steve turned to Kelly. “Would you like help with your tent, too, Mrs. McGuire?

  For the first time, Kelly truly smiled and Steve felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. Kelly McGuire was beautiful! “Thanks, that’s kind of you,” she said, her green eyes alight with relief. She picked up a rod, walked around to the opposite side of her tent, and pushed it through the sleeve. Steve caught it and guided it down the second sleeve section on his side.

  “And it’s Miss.”

  “Excuse me?” Steve looked up, confused for a moment.

  “My name.” Kelly said a slight flush on her cheeks. “I’m a Miss, not a Mrs.”

  Steve flushed too, but for some reason, he felt inexplicably pleased with that information. “Right,” he replied lamely. “I’ll fix it on the registration card.”

  To cover his mixed feelings, he began talking about the various trails in the park, and the guest preacher who would be at the amphitheater on Sunday morning, if they stayed that long.

  In just a few minutes, they had Kelly’s tent set up, and Jenny hurried over to hand the mallet off to Kelly, flashing a shy smile at Steve as she did.

  “Looks like you’ve got things under control now,” Steve said after a moment. “If you need anything else, just flag me down on one of my rounds.” He nodded to Kelly, wishing he had an excuse to stay and talk to her some more. “Enjoy your stay.”

  Then he turned to Jenny. “Hope your friend gets feeling better soon.” Everyone glanced in Alyssa’s direction, who had the grace to look slightly ashamed.

  “You should get that fire started soon,” Steve advised them again. “S’mores always make me feel better.

  Jenny’s eyes shone, “Come back later!” She begged him. “Come back and have s’mores with us tonight!”

  Steve laughed kindly. “I’m afraid I’m on duty until nine tonight, but thanks for the offer.”

  Kelly flashed him another heart stopping smile. “Then come back after nine,” she encouraged him. “We’ll save you a couple. It’s the least we could do after your help here.”

  “I was just trying to help you through a difficult moment,” Steve protested.

  “And we appreciate it, Jenny and I. So, we’ll expect you around nine o’clock then?”

  “No promises, but I will try,” Steve stuttered, feeling confused and pleased at the same time. He waved a hand in farewell and hurried back to the truck.

  As Steve drove on to the next campsite, he kicked himself squarely. What had gotten into him? ‘Fraternizing’ was generally frowned upon. But it was the girl who had asked…awwww, who was he kidding? Kelly McGuire had shaken something loose that had been long buried. Even now, the memory of her smile caused a ping pong ball to ricochet off the inner walls of his chest!

  Stupid behavior! He told himself sternly. A girl with a smile like that wasn’t likely to be single, even if she wasn't married! No point in even considering such a thing! But why would she have made a point of telling him that she wasn’t married then…?

  Steve registered two more sites and sold several more bundles of wood by the time he exited the extension sites. Still preoccupied with his encounter with Kelly McGuire, he drove back to the Visitor’s Center and found Deborah and Pete waiting for him with a baked potato and roasted chicken, surrounded by a sea of healthy vegetables. Steve knew that Deborah regularly checked out the contents of his and Chuck’s refrigerator, and whenever she got the chance she force fed them something besides canned ravioli and hotdogs. She made it a point to over cook whenever they all got together, and then sent the boys home with the lion’s share of the leftovers.

  They parked at the far end of the parking lot and walked down to the picnic tables that marked the trailhead for Window Falls. Pete and Deborah had brought their dinner, too, and there was silence for a few minutes as each one concentrated on wolfing down Deborah’s excellent meal.

  As he shoveled another large forkful of chicken into his mouth, Steve noticed Deborah contemplating him as she ate her dinner in small civilized bites.

/>   “What?” He asked, his mouth still full. For a moment Steve found himself captured by Deborah’s green eyes. Kelly McGuire had green eyes too, he recalled.

  “Something’s happened to you,” she answered, studying Steve critically.

  Steve laughed, suddenly self-conscious, as if Deborah really had read his thoughts. He swallowed and scooped out a forkful of potatoes. “What do you mean?”

  He asked, refusing to look at her.

  “You tell me,” she countered. “Something’s happened since you went on duty,” she stated with absolute certainty.

  Steve rolled his eyes. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” he said with a shrug. “I almost hit a fox leaving the woodpile; I sold twelve bundles of firewood and registered five new campsites. Same ol’ same ol.”

  Still refusing to look her in the eye, he contemplated a pale orange vegetable, deciding that it might be a turnip. He scrunched his nose, thinking that turnips were kind of iffy among his vegetable choices. Still, he popped it in his mouth not wanting to give Deborah something to nag him about, and prepared to swallow it quickly. It had a slightly earthy taste, with a sweet overtone. Steve was pleasantly surprised and decided that turnips might be vastly underrated. He stabbed a second piece. When he finally looked up from his plate he found Deborah and Pete both watching him with interest.

  “Come on you two,” he said in exasperation. “You’re acting pretty strange.”

  Deborah was not deterred. “You’re the one acting strange, you’re grinning at your vegetables!” She accused him.

  Pete cocked his head, eyeing Steve as if he were a new species of salamander that had just climbed out from under a rock. “You’re right, hon,” he agreed slowly. “His face is,..well – he looks younger, I somehow.”

  Steve glared at Pete, feeling betrayed. “Not you too,” he growled, attempting to appear irritated, but the effect was ruined when his lips crooked into a smile.

  “That’s it!” Pete slapped the table. “You’re actually smiling!”