Read The Ranger's Passionate Love Online
Authors: Nicole Jordan
The restaurant was completely dead. No one had been in for hours. Tuesdays were usually rough, but this was completely empty. Even the AC sounded like is wasn’t really trying anymore.
Kyara tapped her pencil on her legal pad. At the top she’d written “Ideas to Spice Up the Cafe,” in scrolling, artistic writing. Beneath the title, the page remained blank.
She tapped her pencil again.
This is ridiculous. No one’s coming. I haven’t taken a full day off since I moved up here, and for what?
From the dining room, Crystal signed.
“Ms. B., Do you mind if I leave early tonight?”
Kyara sighed, but couldn’t argue. Wasn’t she just thinking the same thing?
“No, that’s fine. Thank you Crystal.”
The girl came into the kitchen, taking off her work apron and flipping her bangs out of her eyes.
“Thanks,” said the teenager. “I was out all morning working on that trail project. I’m pretty beat.”
The thought triggered something in the back of Kyara’s memory. A quick flash of rough hands and gray-green eyes filled her mind.
“Trail project?” Kyara asked.
Crystal grunted from in front of the mirror, where she was already reapplying her eye shadow now that work was done.
“Yeah,” said Crystal. “The Old Mill Road trail? That’s where everyone is tonight. They’re all out working on restoring the trail.”
“Why?” ask Kyara. She had a pretty good idea why she was tempted to go, but not why everyone in town might head out.
Crystal paused from puckering her lips, black lipstick poised between her fingers.
“Oh, OK, the story: like a hundred years ago or something the only way into or out of town was the Old Mill Road, which led past, d’uh, the old mill. Although I guess at that point it wasn’t the old mill, it was just the mill, or something. Anyway, after they ran the highway through Bradford during the depression or whatever, it was easier to attach a road nearer to that, and the Old Mill Road just kinda dried up ‘cause no one used it anymore.
“Anyway, a bunch of people in town are trying to restore it as, like, a hiking and snowmobiling path and stuff. They figure it’ll be a good community project, plus bring in the tourists.”
Kyara turned this information over in her head.
“I thought no one liked the tourists around here?” she asked.
Crystal snorted.
“No one will admit it, but the area needs the tourists to survive. We wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves if we couldn’t sell maple crap and pictures of leaves to people up from the city. So they’ll pretend that it’s a ‘community restoration project,’ but you better believe it’s to bring in the tourist dollars.”
Crystal went back to turning herself back into the county’s only goth while Kyara contemplated her, admittedly cynical, take on the situation.
I wonder how many black tourists come through. It may be harder to hide here than I thought.
It would be easier if I had more friends. Plus, it’s getting really lonely.
“Well,” Kyara said at last, “If that’s where everyone is, I guess I might as well head up there, too. You can head home, and thank you for the information.”
Crystal shrugged. “It’s whatever. Just look for them behind the general store. The guy leading it, is, um ..."
Kyara thought she knew where this was going.
"Tall," Kyara filled in. "Green eyes, big arms?"
Crystal nodded, looking relieved.
"A totally hottie." the teen agreed. "Sometime he comes in to talk in my elective class when school's in. It's pretty much drool-thirty when he comes in.”
Wow, she kinda called it,
Kyara admitted to herself.
Kyara watched her young employee leave. Crystal probably wasn’t actually going to go home. She had been straightforward about not wanting to spend more time with her mom, her mom’s boyfriend, really, than was strictly necessary. It was why she didn’t mind working long hours. Still, she was a good kid.
Kyara walked over and flipped over the sign in the window from “Open” to “Closed” and went upstairs to change.
In a surprisingly short amount of time, Kyara found herself in t-shirt and jeans walking out behind the general store. It was still light out, but the evening had settled into its usual pattern of hums, buzzes, and the whisper of leaves.
For the first month she’d been here, she’d lain awake at night. The insect-filled night was both too loud and not nearly loud enough. Now, though, Kyara could almost sleep without straining for the sound of cars, buildings, and people all around her.
I might actually be getting used to being here.
The path was as obvious as Crystal had promised. Not only was it a clear break in the trees, but someone had pounded a hand-painted sign in at the head.
“Old Mill Road. 18.2 Miles to Bradford.”
The tall grass leading up to the trailhead was neatly mowed, creating an easy walkway. Kyara followed it, straining for the sound of voices or the crack of branches. If there was anything, though, it was far away.
Studying the space around her cautiously, Kyara started walking, taking the time to look over the trail. From what little she knew, it looked good to her. She could see the places where the trees had been trimmed back and carefully treated with some sort of mixture over the exposed insides of the branches. It was almost picture-perfect against the background of rolling hills and the trickling of the river.
If they're trying to rope in the tourists, this would hook me,
Kyara reflected.
The evening remained oppressively hot and muggy, though. Insects began to find her, too. At first there were just a few, but soon she couldn’t take a step without having to swat at them. By the time her foot disappeared into a hole full of mud, Kyara's mood had soured.
This was a really stupid idea
Kyara berated herself.
I don’t have the right clothes for this, or bug spray, or anything. I’m going to get eaten alive by mosquitoes big enough to ride before I find them, if they’re even out here!
Just when she was ready to turn back, Kyara caught the welcome sound of voices and a revving motor. The trail looped around a hill before she finally saw people.
Three women were grouped in back of an old, red pickup truck. It was filled with a pile of branches. They matched the mass of interwoven, spiky branches blocking the trail ahead. There was kind of a place the path continued between them, but you had to be looking for it. Mostly, it just looked like a mass of spikes and leaves.
Of the three women, two short, brunette women, one skinny, one heavy, were holding back some of those branches while a tall, statuesque blond sawed away at the base of one bush with a hack saw. All three straightened up when she came into view.
"Um, hey. I'm looking for Jason?" said Kyara uncertainly.
The pudgy brunette paused for a moment, then gestured through the brambles. The skinny one smirked a little and gave a quick nod, also in the direction of the tiny path. The blond just stared at her, hands on hips.
Wow. What's her problem?
Kyara wondered as she made her way tentatively towards the break in the brambles. She went to push her way through, all three women still watching her. The branches were just as rough as they looked. Almost immediately, Kyara's arms became a mass of tiny, cross-crossed scratches.
Great, because the bug bites weren't bad enough.
Picking her way forward, trying to preserve her abused skin as much as possible, Kyara worked her way forward. Coming out the other side, she finally saw Jason.
He was lounging against a huge, lightning-struck tree, talking to another guy. Jason was wearing a rich green jacket and rough, thick khakis, the loops on them actually hung with the tools they were intended for. The other man was heavier, wearing a bark brown jacket and jeans. The gray at his temples marked him as older. He was shaking his head at Jason like a disappointed teacher.
Kyara stopped, listening and picking bits of leaves out of her hair.
"We can't just leave it here, Rich. It's dead. Someday it's gonna fall, and when it does it might hurt someone on the trail" said Jason.
The man spat, a thick wad of dark spit hitting the ground.
"Do you know how unlikely that is?" asked the older man. "You're making a ton of work for us over nothing."
"It's not for nothing, it's for ..." just then, Jason saw her and cut off his words, smiling.
Kyara came forward, the older man turning to see what had caught Jason's attention. Up close, Jason's eyes caught the color of his jacket and held it, shading them a rich emerald. He looked even better than he had when they'd met before.
I wonder what he'd look like in morning light?
Kyara wondered.
"You came," said Jason, surprise and delight filling his voice. "When you weren't there at 6:30, I figured you weren't coming out tonight."
Kyara shrugged. "I wasn't sure either, I guess. But I thought I'd see what it was all about."
Jason nodded, still smiling. He turned to the other man.
"Officer Marsh, this is Kyara Bell. She owns the place that used to be Mrs. Tylden's."
The older man nodded brusquely, not holding out his hand.
"I know who she is," was all he said. "And it don't look like she's ready to help, even if she had come on time."
Jason blinked and looked at her again, this time taking in the many, tiny cuts and bug bites on her bare arms.
"Oh, wow, Kyara. I' so sorry, I forgot to warn you. Everyone else got the reminder on the first day, but we deal with a lot of underbrush. You kinda need long sleeves for this," said Jason.
"Oh, well, I was just coming out to see what it was all about anyway. I'm sure it's fine. I can head back, maybe try some other time." Kyara tried to play it off.
Am I blushing? Can he tell? Oh, God, I knew this was a mistake.
Jason shook his head.
"Don't be silly. I'm not doing much other than trying to figure out how to take care of this thing." He slapped the old, dead tree he'd been leaning against. "You can borrow mine and go work with the girls."
Without giving her time to think, Jason had his jacket unzipped and settled around her shoulders. Underneath he wore a simple t-shirt. It clung to his body, emphasizing his well-muscled chest and solid, narrow midsection.
Wow. Does he have actual abs?
Kyara tried not to stare.
"No, I really am fine, I can just..." Kyara tried to protest.