Chapter 10
NATE
Friday morning, and my boots were hitting the gravel lot of the ranger station before the sun had fully cleared the trees.
Brody had dangled a lifeline over drinks last night. Swing by the station tomorrow. Got something you might be interested in. He’d said it casually, but Brody Olsen was a known agent of chaos. I did not trust him at all.
I also did not care. Whatever the distraction was, I was taking it. A week back in Esperance and I was officially climbing the walls. I needed something to do before I lost my damn mind.
A couple vehicles were already parked out front of the station. Brody’s truck and one of the park utility rigs sat in their usual spots, and right next to them, Maya’s beat-up old truck rested at a jagged angle like she had pulled in while in a massive hurry.
My pulse kicked up. It was a stupid reaction. She was probably already miles out on the trails doing her thing.
Annoyed at myself, I strode toward the wide wooden porch, grabbed the heavy front door and pulled. Right as someone shoved it open from the inside.
Maya barreled straight into me. A stack of trail maps slipped from her grip, scattering across the porch, and her free hand landed flat against my chest to catch her balance.
“Oh.” Her green eyes snapped up to mine. “Sorry, I didn’t...” She trailed off.
Her hand remained planted right over my pounding heart. My fingers instinctively wrapped around her elbow to steady her, and neither of us pulled away.
The morning light caught the gold flecks in her eyes. A strand of hair had escaped her ponytail, curling against her cheek, and my fingers itched to brush it back. Her lips parted, just slightly, and the energy between us compressed into something dense and charged.
She tilted her chin up. I leaned in, just a fraction. Close enough for her warm breath to skate across my skin. Close enough to count those gold flecks.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?”
We sprang apart like we’d been electrocuted.
Brody stood in the middle of the station, clipboard in hand. His expression was pure, undiluted entertainment. The man looked like Christmas had come early and brought a floor show.
“Morning.” His gaze slid between us. “Don’t mind me. Didn’t mean to interrupt... whatever that was.”
“I was… It was nothing. I was just…”
I swear, his grin would make the devil proud. “Whatever you say, Brookes. Come on in, both of you. Got a lot to get through this morning.”
“I thought I’d get a start on the quad maintenance.”
“It can wait. Let’s do this first.”
Maya bent and hastily gathered up the papers, squared her shoulders, and walked back through the door without looking at me. The tips of her ears were pink.
I followed, keeping a solid three feet of distance between us. Professional. Appropriate. Definitely not a man who’d just been two inches from doing something monumentally stupid.
Inside, the station had the functional warmth of a place that got used hard and cared for well. Maps pinned to the walls, a whiteboard covered in schedules and notes, desks cluttered with radios and paperwork. A couple other rangers milled around the back, swapping weekend plans.
Brody clapped his hands once. “Alright, gather round.”
Maya took the chair nearest to the desk, staring very hard at the blank whiteboard.
I claimed a spot near the wall, shoved my hands in my pockets, and focused on Brody.
“Listen up, everyone,” he said, tapping a finger to the clipboard.
“We’ve been kicking around a volunteer pilot program for a while now.
Extra hands for trail maintenance, fence work, general upkeep.
Stuff that eats our schedule alive during peak season.
” He turned his shit-eating grin on me. “This is Nate O’Hare.
Army vet, just back in town. You mentioned last night you were going stir-crazy, man.
I’m offering you a productive outlet for that energy before you start digging holes in Nancy Brookes’ backyard. ”
A breath of laughter went around the room. Maya kept her eyes glued to the front.
“No experience required,” Brody went on. “We’ll train you as we go. Flexible hours. It’s grunt work, mostly, but it’s honest and it’s outdoors.”
He didn’t have to sell it. The hum under my skin quieted the second he said the words. A purpose. A structure. Something to do with my hands and my head that didn’t involve staring at floral curtains.
“I’m in.”
Brody’s grin widened. “Outstanding.” He turned to Maya, ready to deliver a punchline he’d been setting up all morning.
“You’re with Maya. There’s about a half mile of fencing along the western boundary that needs mending before the weekend hikers tear it up worse than it already is.
Maya, get him kitted up and show him what’s what. ”
Maya’s shoulders hunched, but her voice was perfectly professional when she replied, “Sure thing, boss.”
Brody beamed at both of us, radiating the energy of a man who’d just arranged the chessboard exactly to his liking and couldn’t be happier about it.
“Excellent. Have fun out there, kids. Oh, and take the tandem quad. The rest of the team’ll need the singles.”
Fuck me, he was diabolical.
I offered him a tight, acknowledging nod. He just winked.
Maya was through the door and halfway across the parking lot before I caught up. She hauled the shed doors open and disappeared inside.
I followed her into the gloom. The space smelled like engine oil and sun-warmed metal. Two single quads sat along one wall, and at the far end sat the tandem. Bigger, wider, with a flat cargo rack on the back.
Maya was already pulling supplies from the shelving and slamming them onto the cargo rack. Wire cutters, pliers, a coil of fencing wire, work gloves, a mallet.
She pointed to a bundle of timber stakes leaning against the wall. “Grab those posts. Six should do it.”
I hoisted them onto my shoulder and carried them to the tandem. She strapped everything down in absolute silence, testing the tension on each bungee cord with a vicious tug.
“Gloves.” She tossed a pair at my chest.
I caught them one-handed.
“You’ll want those,” she added, her voice clipped. “The wire’s old and it bites.”
She was all business. The breathless, flustered woman from ten minutes ago had completely vanished. I respected it. Honestly, it made things easier.
She swung onto the front seat and kicked the engine to life. I climbed on behind her.
The tandem was a different beast to the single we had shared at the falls. Wider seat, more space, actual room between us. I held onto the grab rails, leaving a safe, highly necessary distance between my hands and her hips.
Small mercy. I wasn’t going to question it.
Maya gunned the throttle, and the quad lurched forward. We were on the trail in seconds. Wind rushed past, carrying the smell of pine and morning dew, and I settled into the ride, grateful for the space between us and the roaring engine drowning out any need to speak.
A man could think out here. Or better yet, let his mind go completely, blissfully blank.