“I did.” Father drummed fingers on his knees. “Or so I was told.”
A knot formed in Margie’s stomach. What sort of game was Philip playing?
Father glanced around the room. “You and Philip spent a lot of time in here when you were young. Do you remember?”
The library’s walls embraced her like an old friend. “Of course. On rainy days we’d come in here and play checkers, backgammon, or cards. He taught me a few card games Mother didn’t approve of.”
“And who won most of those games?”
“He did.” The memory sent heat flushing through her body. “Always. And if I was close to winning, he’d change the rules.”
“You used to storm into my office complaining about injustice.”
“And you told me to fight my own battles.”
Her father nodded, tapping two fingers against his lips. “And how did that work out?”
Margie took a deep breath, this foray into her childhood memories taking a toll. They’d had lovely times, too, usually away from home. Something about spending time inside her house turned Philip nasty. Perhaps it was the reminder of what he was missing in his own home. “He’d argue his point until I gave up. Quarrels were just another thing for him to win. I didn’t like him much when we were at odds. I’m not sure why I put up with it for so long.”
Her father scooted forward in his seat. “Fighting with Philip Carmichael is like wrestling one of those silly fingertrap toys from Chinatown. The more you squirm, the tighter his hold.”
Margie pondered his words. “Are you saying we should just let him have his way?”
“I’m saying, we need to stop playing his game entirely.”
“And how do we do that?”
“I’ve already taken the first step.” Her father unbuttoned his suit jacket, letting it fall open. “I resigned my Senate seat.”
Ford herded the line of boys along the Alta Vista Trail, careful to keep them together. As usual, there were two who wanted to race ahead and others who whined and dragged behind. “Come on, men. We’re going to see a glacier. That’s pretty exciting, isn’t it?”
“What good is a glacier?” The scruffy-haired lad beside him snorted. “They just sit there. I’d rather have ice cream.”
“Mr. Ranger?” A youngster in short pants tugged on Ford’s jacket. “Are we going to see bears? My dad said to watch out for bears.”
“Probably not.” Ford laid a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “The huckleberries are pretty much spent, so they’re off looking for other grub right now. Storing up for winter, you know?”
“Aw, man. I wanted to see a bear.” The boy’s face screwed up into a classic pout. “My sister said she saw a bear at the campground last year, and it could dance.”
The first boy groaned. “We’re not going to see anything good.”
Where was Margie when he needed her? She’d always been the Pied Piper, leading bands of visitors up and down these trails like they were on some sort of magical adventure even if they saw nothing but rocks and plants. He jostled the loud-mouthed complainer. “You know what that is?” He gestured toward a tiny bloom with four blue-violet petals.
“It’s a flower.” The child huffed, pulling his cap low over his eyes. “Flowers are for girls.”
Hard to argue that one. “Come along. We’ve got a glacier to see. I’ll tell you how climbers cross crevasses safely.”
The group fell in behind him, hushed conversations buzzing like a swarm of bees across the meadows. It was difficult to believe almost a week had passed since Margie had left. Every time he stepped out of his cabin, his eyes were drawn to the remains of her charred shack. If she ever returned, he’d make sure she had the finest quarters in Longmire.
If only he had told Margie about her father’s donations when he had the chance. Why had he hidden it from her? His throat tightened. Because you’re a fool.
“You walked up that mountain a strong man and returned a Christian.” Mrs. Brown’s words rattled in his empty heart. Pride had always stood in his way. It led him to accept his father’s post, even when he knew he wasn’t ready. It kept him from developing friendships with his crew and almost prevented him from accepting Margie for who she was. Worst of all, pride had stood in his way of understanding God’s love.
After entertaining the boys with climbing stories and then returning them to their parents, Ford headed for the Paradise ranger station. Being on the trail without Margie left a gnawing hole in his chest. After a quick lunch, he’d drive back to Longmire and start work on the August reports—if he could bear to face the typewriter.
Superintendent Brown waited at the desk, his face drawn.
Ford’s heart kicked into overdrive. “What’s happened? An accident?”
Harry pushed his hands into his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Ford, I need to speak with you.”
Ford dropped his hat onto the coat rack and shook off his jacket. “I assumed as much.” A heaviness lowered itself into his stomach. Harry’s tone left little doubt what lay ahead. Ford had been dreading this moment since Margie left.
“Ford, you know I admire you. You’ve done fine work here for the park, and your father was one of my best friends.” The man cleared his throat, as if the words clung to the insides of his mouth.
Ford remained on the visitors’ side of the long counter, a sick feeling descending over him. “Say it, Harry.”
The superintendent sighed, laying both hands flat on the wooden surface. “It has come to my attention that you willfully endangered a member of our staff and then proceeded to lead her into a compromising situation.”
“Harry, you know that’s not—”
“She’s a pretty gal, Ford. I should have seen it when I delivered her to your doorstep three months ago. It was a mistake to expect an unmarried woman to work side by side with the ranger crew. It was my mistake.”
A rush of heat crawled up Ford’s backbone. “You said the park needed the money. Facilities and repairs.”
“I should never have agreed to the arrangement. It put you and the other men in an awkward position. We should have anticipated this.”
“This what?” Ford thunked his palms down on the counter’s edge. “That an educated, imaginative woman would put us all on our toes and make us far better rangers than we’d ever been before? That she’d show us that park work is more than clearing wind-downed trees and busting trails?”
Harry’s brow crumpled. “Ford, you know I hate to do this.”
“You’re going to let Carmichael bully you into decisions about the staff? If that’s the case, maybe I should get out of here while I can.”
“I have no choice. I have to let you go.” His boss’s face had taken on a hint of gray.
Harry’s voice sounded distant, as if Ford had somehow retreated down a dark tunnel. Fired? Had it really come to this?
“And Ford, you should know”—the superintendent leaned forward, resting all his weight on his elbows—“the petition didn’t come from Carmichael.”
The breath vanished from Ford’s chest. “Then…who?”
“Margie.”
Less than a week later, Ford slouched at the end of the long table in the Paradise Inn, the white cloth napkins a stark contrast against the glossy wood. This is like attending your own funeral. Staff had arrived from every corner of the park to say good-bye, thanks to Luke’s devious scheming. Jennings and Carson sat at the far end, surrounded by friends from White River, Ohanapecosh Hot Springs, and Paradise.
Slinking away under the shelter of night without saying a word to anyone would have been preferable. What could be more uncomfortable than to look each ranger in the eye, searching his face for either sympathy or condemnation? Most of the men had rallied to his cause. Unfortunately, listening to them take potshots at Margie and women like her sucked away any pleasure in their support. They don’t understand anything, Lord. I’m the one at fault.
Obviously he’d driven her to lash out. Not on
ly did she regret falling for him, now she was determined to ruin him. Who could blame her?
Luke leaned close, trying to be heard over the nearby conversations. “Where are you going to go? You’ve lived your whole life in park housing, haven’t you?”
The truth of his friend’s words hung over him like an old coat. He’d never known anything else. “I thought I’d hop the train to Seattle. Then maybe Alaska.” It seemed as good a place as any. He could disappear into the woods and never face anyone again.
“Maybe you could get work at that Mount McKinley Park.”
“Maybe.” Ford stared out the long bank of windows. Hopefully this would be done soon. He’d heard a rumor Carmichael would be at the Inn today. The last thing he wanted was to hear parting jabs from that snake.
A hand touching his shoulder drew his attention back to the party. Henrik Berge stood at his side, his cap pulled low over his eyes. “Ford, can I speak to you?” He glanced down the long table. “In private?”
Anything to get away from this wake. Ford set his napkin atop his plate and leaned toward Luke. “I’ll be right back.”
“Better hurry or we won’t save you any dessert. Huckleberry cobbler.”
Pushing up from his seat, he followed Berge out to the lobby. The man aimed for a deserted corner of the long hall. When they arrived, the guide’s eyes scanned the open space, taking in every occupied seat and alcove. “I need to tell you something—clear the air.”
Ford pressed his hands into his pockets. Was he finally going to hear details of his father’s death? On a day like this? “I’m listening.”
Berge fiddled with the clasps on his wool sweater. “The guides—we don’t work for the National Park Service. I never worked under you. I wish I had.”
“What are you talking about?” The man’s nervous shuffling was getting irritating.
“When I took you and Miss Lane on that climb, I was working for the RNPC.”
“Obviously.” Ford snapped out the word, then paused, realization sinking down on him like an early snowfall. “You mean—”
“I answer to Carmichael.”
A chill washed over Ford. He took a step closer to the Norwegian, glancing about the room to make sure the subject of the conversation wasn’t lurking around somewhere. “And?”
“He wanted to make sure she didn’t summit.”
I’ll kill the man. Both of them. “That’s why you faked the fall.”
Grooves formed in Berge’s forehead. “He said whatever it took. I got the sense he wouldn’t have been disappointed if she’d never come back. But I could never do that. Nei, I thought…one little slip…would do it. The weather was going downhill so quickly, anyhow, I never dreamed you’d go on.”
“And then you figured we wouldn’t be coming home.”
Berge closed his eyes, his complexion going gray. “I never meant to put you two in danger.”
The blood pounded in Ford’s ears. “And my father’s climb?”
The guide’s eyes flew open. “That was an icefall off the Kautz Glacier. You accuse me of planning that?”
“But you would have left Margie and me up there, just like you left my father?”
“I was mounting a rescue party when you two walked in.” Berge backed away, lifting both hands in defense. He nodded toward the door. “Speak of the devil.”
Carmichael strode through the doors, aiming toward the front desk like a man on a mission.
“Please, Ford…I’m sorry.” Berge edged away. “And I can’t work for that man anymore.”
“Good plan.” Ford pulled at his collar, suddenly longing for a breath of fresh air. He needed to cool off before facing Carmichael.
Ducking out the rear door, Ford let the late summer sunshine ease some of the tension from his shoulders. He’d already turned in his uniform, so none of the visitors gave him a second glance. Sauntering over to a log bench, Ford dropped onto the seat, scanning the mountain all the way up to its glittering crest.
Carmichael’s flashy auto sat out front, its gleaming hood speaking volumes about a man who cared more about appearance than facts.
A dark vehicle pulled up and slid to a stop next to Carmichael’s. The door swung open, and a rotund gentleman stepped out, adjusting the bowler hat atop his round head. He turned and surveyed the mountain and the Inn.
Senator Lane? Ford jumped to his feet.
Two other men appeared from the rear seats as the senator walked around the vehicle and opened the passenger door. Margie stepped out, her pink dress fluttering in the light breeze. She resembled one of her beloved alpine wildflowers.
Ford’s chest tightened. He hadn’t expected to see her before he left—and certainly not here. He hurried back into the Inn to give himself a minute to think. Did she expect him to be gone already? Likely as not, this was Carmichael’s doing. Ford curled his fingers against his palms. He was done letting Carmichael railroad the woman he loved. You’re a fine ranger and a good man. Margie’s words swept back into his thoughts. Time to act like one.
Luke hurried across the lobby to meet him. “There you are. We can’t have a going-away party without the guest of honor. Everyone’s asking about you. Let’s go back to the dining room.”
He had to get away before Margie saw him. “I can’t stay. Can you give me a ride down the hill?”
Luke’s brows closed together. “What are you talking about?”
“She’s here—Margie. I don’t want to upset her any more than I already have, so I need to get out of here. In fact, I’m going to see Harry. I don’t care if I have to take it all the way to President Coolidge, but I’m going to find a way to stop Carmichael once and for all. Now, can you help me?” A wave of heat crawled up his neck. Margie and her father were going to walk through the door any second. He grasped Luke’s arm and tugged him toward the dining room. “We’ll say a quick good-bye to the crew and then sneak out. No fuss.”
Luke chuckled, patting Ford’s shoulder. “I think you should stay for the whole party. Trust me on this one.”
If Luke wouldn’t listen, Ford wasn’t going to wait around for him. He ducked back into the dining room only to come to an abrupt halt. Harry Brown was talking to Philip Carmichael as the crowd of rangers looked on. Who would he rather face—Carmichael or Margie? A cold sweat broke out across Ford’s skin.
“Ranger Brayden?” The senator’s voice boomed out behind him.
Ford spun around, all hope of escape vanishing. “Senator.”
As Margie stepped out from behind her father, Ford couldn’t help but notice that the windburn on her cheeks had faded to a healthy glow. “Ford, I’m so glad you’re here. Luke was so kind to arrange everything for us.”
“Luke?” Ford’s world tilted on end. What had Luke arranged, other than his unwanted good-bye party?
The senator gestured to their two guests. “Ranger Brayden, allow me to introduce Henry Clark of the Tacoma Daily Ledger and Frederick Bailey of the Department of the Interior. I’m glad you can be here as well. The more witnesses, the merrier. That’s why we had Mr. Johansson assure that as many of the staff were on hand as possible.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on.” Ford glanced toward Luke.
His friend grinned, touching two fingers to his forehead in mock salute.
Margie squeezed Ford’s arm. “We’re changing the rules.”
His skin tingled at her touch. “I thought you were angry with me. The money—and the climb. Harry said—”
She stood on tiptoes and whispered in his ear. “I’ll explain later. Just trust me.”
Her smile sent a jolt of adrenaline through his system. Whatever she had in mind, he was ready.
Margie released Ford’s arm; the mere sight of him provided the strength she needed to set this day into motion. If only she’d had time to inform him of her plan. He seemed out-of-place without his uniform, but it was obvious that the staff still rallied around him. The fact that so many of them had come at Luke’s invitation spoke
of their respect. The dark looks they were shooting her spoke volumes as well.
She’d felt sick the day she’d put in the telephone call to Superintendent Brown. He’d spent twenty minutes defending Ford’s actions and arguing against his dismissal. It had taken the threat of involving her father and references to several dubious legislative committees to push him over the edge. She’d considered being completely honest with him, but she couldn’t take any chances on the truth getting back to Philip.
Hopefully Ford would forgive her after the dust settled. “Wish me luck. Or better yet, pray for me.”
“You got it.”
His smile sent a surge of energy through her body. He agreed to pray?
Her father touched her elbow. “We can’t wait any longer.”
She nodded. “I’m ready.” Striding across the floor, she joined the superintendent and Philip by the head of the long table. “Hello, gentlemen.”
Philip’s eyes widened. “Margaret. I’m surprised to see you here. I thought we were meeting tomorrow at your parent’s home to go over my…requests.”
“About that, Philip.” Margie moistened her lips, willing her voice to stay even. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to accommodate those requests.”
Philip rubbed a thumb down his jaw. “You astonish me, Margaret, and that’s not easy to do. I thought you had strong feelings regarding my construction plans here at the park and equally passionate emotions for a certain member of the staff. You’d just toss it all away when pressed for a tiny sacrifice?”
Tiny sacrifice? “You’re right, Philip. I care deeply about Ford. But since he is no longer employed by the park service, I don’t think that’s a problem.”
Philip jerked his head upward, digging in his vest pocket. “Really?” He drew out a small silver cigarette case and flipped it open.
Superintendent Brown took off his Stetson. “We’re all here for the big good-bye party, aren’t we fellas?”
The Road to Paradise Page 27
