Riley held her breath, her hand firmly wrapped around the wooden banister. One man seemed much too calm while the other one raged.
“I think we’re done here, or I’m calling the assistant superintendent to get his opinion on your condition,” the man with the calmer voice said. “He might recommend a psych evaluation.”
Silence, then the door yanked open unexpectedly, and a man with slightly graying hair, dressed in a ranger’s uniform, emerged. He stopped abruptly, a surprised look on his face when he saw her. Riley stared up into cold and angry eyes.
The man cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. His steely eyes roamed over her, no doubt wondering how much she’d overheard.
“Is this the backcountry office?” Riley plastered a smile on her face. She pushed her black-rimmed glasses further up her nose and raised her chin, then darted a quick glance at the nametag on the man’s uniform.
John Hastings
“I need to get some information about a camping permit,” she added to sound convincing.
The older man’s eyes traveled lower. He raised a disbelieving eyebrow when his gaze fell to her skirt and high heels. He shook his head slightly, nearly imperceptibly, and a quick flash of annoyance darkened his eyes. It vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, and he even smiled at her.
“This is the backcountry office. Ranger Osborne in there can help you.”
He stepped aside to let her pass on the narrow porch. He nodded curtly, then lifted his ranger hat to his head, and marched down the couple of stairs. Riley turned to watch him for a second, then faced the interior of the small office. Inhaling a quick breath, she expelled it through parted lips and stepped inside.
The ranger who stood on the other side of the counter ran a hand through his dark hair. He raised his head, and a fleeting look of annoyance passed through his eyes. He covered it quickly and offered a smile. Riley pushed her glasses up her nose again and stepped up to the counter. She tilted her head slightly to look the ranger in the eye. She mentally shook her head.
Broad-shouldered, he sure filled out his uniform well. His short, nearly jet-black hair was trimmed neatly, and his crisp uniform gave him the appearance of a marine, rather than a park ranger.
“We don’t usually have visitors this early in the day, this early in the season,” he said with a smile. “How can I help? I heard you say something about a camping permit?” His brows rose in the same manner as the other ranger, as he was mentally assessing her clothes.
Riley shot a hasty look over her shoulder, then turned back to the ranger. She stepped closer and leaned forward, folding her forearms on the counter.
“I’m not here for a permit,” she confessed. Her gaze darted to the nametag on his uniform.
Daniel Osborne. There couldn’t be more than one, could there?
His brows rose even higher, and he looked at her expectantly.
Riley straightened. She cocked her head slightly and pointed her finger at him. She should come right out and ask him, but her academic mind took over.
“You have an interesting last name,” she said. “Looks like we have something in common.”
"We do?" Dan Osborne leaned forward and looked her in the eye. "Is your name Osborne?"
Riley laughed and shook her head. "No, but our names have similar meaning." She reached her hand out to him. "Riley Bernard."
Dan hesitated. His eyes narrowed, then he shook it. His large hand nearly swallowed hers. He waited.
“Your name, it literally means ‘divine bear’.” She sniggered. “And my name means ‘brave, or hardy bear’. I’m not sure I can do that name justice, though.”
Dan’s brows furrowed. Yeah, he was thinking she was nuts. She waved her hand in front of her face. She was doing it again. Acting all nerdy when she was nervous, trying to impress someone with trivial knowledge.
“Why exactly did you come to the ranger station, Riley?”
“I’m sorry. I’m an anthropology grad student at the University of Montana. Linguistics and name origins are my hobbies.”
Dan's shoulders relaxed. He chuckled and pointed his thumb at his chest. "Wildlife biology. One more year and I'll be done with my masters."
Riley smiled. Well, wasn’t this her lucky day. Maybe sharing something more than a loose interpretation of their last names would break the ice.
“Small world,” she said.
Dan’s face turned serious again. “What can I do for you, Riley?”
She glanced over her shoulder again, then leaned toward him over the counter.
“I need a favor,” she whispered. “And someone mentioned your name as the person I should talk to. I don’t have any other contacts in the park service.”
“Favor?” Dan eyed her suspiciously.
Riley sucked in a deep breath. “My master’s research is based on the ancient Native Americans in Montana. Recently, I came upon an article about a sub-group of Shoshone who supposedly made the Yellowstone region their year-round home. It’s an extinct group of people, and the research on them is fairly obscure.”
She paused. Something in Dan’s facial muscles tightened, and he appeared visibly tense all of a sudden.
“I came across a claim disputing their existence,” she continued quickly. “All the literature about them mentions Yellowstone. I’ve read that there are still some ancient dwellings and wall paintings somewhere in this park, but no one will give their location.”
“There’s a reason for that,” Dan said quickly. “The park service doesn’t want those sites disturbed.” His eyes narrowed.
Riley nodded. “I understand that. The more I’ve been reading, the more intrigued I’ve become, and I’d like to do my own research. Their beliefs and culture sound too fascinating to simply ignore.” She looked him straight in the eye. “Your name came up as someone with knowledge about them.”
“Who told you that?”
She shrugged. “One of the rangers at the Old Faithful Visitor Center. He said you might be able to answer my questions better than he could.” She looked him in the eye before continuing. “I was hoping that you might know where those sites are, and you’d take me to see them.”
Dan chuckled and ran a hand along his jaw. "I can't do that, Riley. Without special permits and permission from the park service, I can't just take someone to an archaeological site that's off-limits to the public. There are other sites, outside the park, that are readily accessible."
Riley raised her chin. “I’m interested in the ones inside the park.”
Dan shook his head. “Sorry. Can’t do it, but I can give you the address where you can apply for a permit.”
Riley cursed silently. She’d been prepared for his answer, but now that he’d said it, disappointment consumed her. She’d been looking for something unique to base her research on. Once something sparked an interest, she didn’t like to simply give up and let go. Applying for a permit could take months, or longer.
“But they do exist?” she prodded, not ready to give up yet. “I’ve seen photographs of wooden structures that are said to have been Sheepeater wicciups.”
Dan glanced to the door before making eye contact again. “They exist,” he said slowly. “Whoever disputes that the Tukudeka - the Sheepeaters - were real and present in this park a long time ago doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”
Riley removed her glasses. She studied the ranger’s handsome face. His features had become too serious.
“What makes you so convinced?” she challenged, then opted to lighten the mood, and sniggered. “Unless you time traveled, like your superior claims to have done a few moments ago, how do you know?”
The color seemed to drain from Dan’s face, but he quickly recovered. He stared at the map displayed on the counter, then returned his gaze to her, and laughed. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. I think he might have been watching a few too many sci-fi movies, and after last night’s staff party, he’s still a bit hung over.”
Riley
laughed at Ranger Dan’s quick lie to, no doubt, cover for his superior. What she’d heard hadn’t sounded like someone suffering a hangover, but the other ranger definitely had a few screws loose. Dan Osborne would do well to carry out his threat and report him to someone with more authority, but it was really none of her business. It was indisputable that John Hastings had been certifiably crazy.
“It does sound like he needs his head examined.” She nodded. “Would be fascinating, though, don’t you think?” Her smile widened, as did her eyes.
“What would?”
“Time travel,” she said. She mentally smacked herself for where this conversation was headed. “Then we could go back and see first hand what it was like. I suppose my chosen field would become obsolete, but from an academic standpoint, the research would be absolutely fascinating.”
Dan’s eyes narrowed, and he looked rather uncomfortable for a moment. His friendly stare grew in intensity, and he studied her, no doubt thinking he needed to call for a shrink for her, too.
“I’m not crazy. Just speculating,” she said hastily. “It really is a fascinating idea, even if it’s utterly ludicrous.”
He continued to stare at her. She was about to open her mouth to change the subject when he shook his head. His easy smile returned, and his eyes softened. He chuckled.
"Okay," he said slowly, drawing out the word like he was about to humor someone who was completely nuts. "From one grad student to another, let's look at it from an academic point of view." He leaned his forearms on the counter and looked her straight in the eyes. "It's one thing to read about the past, but to actually experience it might be more than we'd want to deal with. Going back to see history for ourselves might sound fascinating, but think about how unprepared any of us would be to actually go back in time. Things we think we know may be completely different."
She tilted her head and smiled smugly. "From the way you talk, one might think you speak from experience, but thanks for playing along."
Dan laughed, a little too quickly. “I don’t need to go back in time. I have everything I want right here.”
Riley nodded. “Let me guess. You have a girlfriend who means the world to you, and you could never leave her for any reason, even for a trip back in time.”
Dan studied her, his face growing serious again. “My fiancée, and yes, she and I have been through a lot together.”
Riley chuckled. Of course he was involved with someone. Men like him were either too full of themselves to stay in a committed relationship, or the rare few nice guys were snatched up instantly. She hadn’t met too many of the latter. Painful memories of her high school years came rushing back. She’d been the accident-prone nerd whom no one noticed, except when they wanted to make fun of her. Things hadn’t seemed to change much since then.
The one guy who’d given her the time of day, who wasn’t also a member of the Astronomy or Physics Club, had turned out to be a jerk like all the others. She’d been duped by his good looks, the fact that he was an athlete, and that he seemed to take notice of her. When he’d stood her up after asking her to Prom, she’d vowed that she’d never give a second glance to another athlete again.
Her books were a safe place. She didn’t have to worry about tripping and falling, or making a fool of herself while living in a book or submersed in her research. Too bad she wasn’t remotely attracted to her current research partner, Jeffrey Callahan. He’d asked her out a few times, and she’d caught his dreamy-eyed stares more than once, but he just hadn’t sparked an interest in her other than that of a friend and lab partner.
“Are you sure I can’t change your mind about taking me to those archaeological sites?” she tried one more time.
"I'm absolutely sure." Dan scribbled something on the back of one of the camping fliers and handed it to her. "Here's my number. If you ever have any questions during your research, I'll try and find the answer. I've done a little studying of the Sheepeaters myself. One of my ancestors was a Shoshone."
Riley pressed her lips together and nodded. She took the paper and folded it in quarters. Right now, she wasn't going to get anywhere with Dan Osborne. "Thanks," she said and moved to leave.
“Riley,” Dan called, and she turned. Her eyes met his.
“If you ever want to go hiking, I’d recommend some different clothes and shoes.”
She smiled. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Would it have made a difference if she’d come dressed for a walk in the woods, rather than looking like she was presenting a research paper to her professors?
She left the backcountry office and held on to the railing as she walked down the stairs. Her car was parked right in front of the building. She sucked in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air, the smell of pine giving her a sense of peace. She was a city girl. Coming to Missoula from Los Angeles had been like a step back in time for her. She'd made the drive to Yellowstone on impulse because she'd wanted to get out of her comfort zone and try some field work rather than just academic research.
“Back to the lab, and looking at artifacts under a microscope,” she mumbled.
She fumbled for her keys in her purse and stepped up to her car. A gentle breeze touched her face. The tall lodgepoles creaked, and the wind swished loudly through their tops. She unlocked the passenger door, opened it, and ducked in to reach across the front seat. It was the only way to unlock the driver's side door. Riley shook her head. It had been silly to lock the car. Who would try and steal anything here at this ranger station? But, old habits were hard to break.
As annoying as it was to have to unlock the driver’s side door from the inside because it was broken, she hadn’t bothered to get it fixed. It was her first car, a used hand-me-down from her grandmother when she could no longer drive. It had gotten her through high school and college, and had moved her from California to Montana to start grad school. Her little Ford might be a clunker by most people’s standards, but she loved her car, and other than the issue with the door, it still got her around.
Her eyes caught movement along the edge of the clearing, where the forest began. She dropped her car keys. Pulling her glasses from her face, she blinked, then stared. Riley shook her head.
You’re losing it, Riley. You’ve been so obsessed over this Shoshone subject, you’re starting to see things.
She bent down to pick up her keys, then looked where a few seconds ago, her brain had surely played tricks on her. She'd almost been convinced that a man who looked like an old Indian dressed in native clothes had stood between a couple of trees, watching her.
Chapter Two
Riley pulled her car into the parking space on the second level of the parking structure at the university. It was Saturday, so there weren’t many cars here. She’d returned from her disappointing drive to Yellowstone late yesterday afternoon. The semester was almost over, and summer classes would start soon. Since she didn’t have a social life, what better way to spend her summer than locked in a classroom, doing academic research and teaching a lab course for her thesis advisor?
Jeffrey Callahan, her lab and research partner, had called her last evening, and said that someone had dropped off a box filled with Native American artifacts that might be of some interest to her. He'd agreed to meet her at the lab so they could go through them together. It was, no doubt, his idea of a date since she'd refused to go out with him.
Riley turned off the ignition and grabbed her purse from the passenger seat. Her eye fell on the folded piece of paper Dan Osborne had given her that she'd absent-mindedly tossed on the seat after leaving Yellowstone. Perhaps she'd find a reason to call him at some point. Even if he couldn't take her to the archaeological sites, he might have other information useful to her research.
She’d even picked up a book about camping and hiking from one of the concessioner stores before leaving the park, and started reading it last night. Dan had been right. If she wanted to do field research, she needed to learn how to hike, and wear the proper clothes. She’d
read halfway through the book before finally falling asleep sometime around 2 a.m.
She smiled and shook her head. Even though she'd dismissed their banter about time travel, their strange conversation had stayed with her during her long drive back to Missoula. She'd really enjoyed talking with Dan. He certainly was an interesting guy. Maybe she'd run into him on campus later in the year. No doubt he didn't spend his summer at school. He was most likely doing his own field research while working as a ranger in the park.
Riley clutched her purse. She opened the door and pressed the lock button out of habit. The ends of her skirt dragged across the seat, the hem snagging on the lever that adjusted it. Without thinking, she slammed the car door shut, and moved to step away. A firm tug around her legs prevented her from taking a full step. Momentarily confused, she turned her head and frowned. A good portion of her skirt was stuck in the door, pinning her to the side of the car.
“Great,” she mumbled, and pulled.
The skirt didn’t budge. She glanced around to see if anyone else was nearby. The second level of the parking structure seemed eerily quiet. Only three other cars were parked there. Why was she such a creature of habit and always parked on the second level? She reached for the door handle, gritting her teeth.
Riley cursed. She tugged on her skirt again, more forcefully this time, grabbing hold of the fabric. It didn’t even matter if it tore. It might be the only way to get unstuck.
“Remind me to buy more clothes like this. They really are durable,” she uttered sarcastically.
She grabbed another handful of material and yanked. In the process, her purse dropped from her hand, spilling its contents over the concrete. Her car keys and loose change jingled loudly as they hit the ground. Not that her key would do her any good, since the lock on this door was broken. Her compact mirror slid across the ground like a hockey puck on ice, followed closely by her cellphone.
Yellowstone Origins: Yellowstone Romance Series, Book 6 Page 2
