Love Is a Battlefield (3 page)

Kristy frantically ran through her house looking for her ranger hat, her dog, Sam, chasing after her every move. Of all the things to lose. She glanced at her watch. Two minutes until eight. Was there an extra hat somewhere in the storage room at the visitor center? she couldn't be late on her second day back.

“Here you go, Sam!” she threw a couple of dog treats at him and rushed out the door. On days like this she was oh-so-thankful her house was practically next door to the visitor center. She ran as fast as she could up the road toward the center. She cut through the parking lot and skidded to a stop right at the back door, nearly slamming into the person who was just exiting. Arnie Bramblett, park superintendent and her boss's boss, glowered at her.

“Miss O'Neal. Glad you could make it to work this morning.”

She lifted up her wrist. “My watch must be a little slow. It won't happen again.”

He held the door open for her. “And let's make sure you aren't outside without a hat again, too, shall we?”

The cardinal rule for park rangers: if you're going to be outdoors in uniform, your hat must be on top of your head. Kristy sighed. “I'm sorry. I think there's an extra one in storage. I'll get it before I go outside again.” she smiled her brightest smile, hoping the theory about smiles being contagious would hold true. It didn't.

“Fine. And you'll need to speak to Owen. There's a special project I want you on.” With that declaration, he turned on his heel, hat firmly on top of his head, and walked toward the administration building.

Kristy slunk into the building, hoping no one else would give her a hard time. Of course, considering it was barely eight in the morning and she'd already had a run-in with the superintendent, she could pretty much bank on her day not getting any worse.

Famous last words.

She threw her purse into the seasonal office and went to the front desk. It looked like everything had already been taken care of. Owen stepped out of the theater and put the remote on the desk.

He raised one eyebrow at her but didn't say anything.

“I know. I'm sorry. Save the lecture, though. I ran into Arnie on my way in. It was brutal.”

Owen shook his head. “Don't worry about it. The movie is going. There were only a couple of visitors anyway, and Ace took care of them.”

At the mention of Ace, she tensed. She hadn't quite come to grips with the fact that someone else would be doing her job. One of her responsibilities had been running the park's Junior Ranger Program. She'd labored long and hard developing all the activities for kids to do. And now she'd lost it. Just one more thing she'd given up for Mark.

“Did Arnie tell you why he was over here?” Owen asked.

“No. He said you'd fill me in. So what's the big news?”

“Well, before I tell you...” He reached under the desk and pulled out a hat. “I believe you left this here yesterday. It was in one of the chairs in the theater.” He looked at her questioningly.

Thank goodness. Now she didn't have to put some stinky old replacement hat on her head. “Thanks. I must've laid it down yesterday afternoon when I was shutting down the A/V equipment. Now, what's going on?”

“Well, let's just say that we're all going on a little stakeout tonight.”

“What?” Had she heard that correctly?

“Arnie is fit to be tied over the Tennessee Monument. He figures since we're nearing the holiday weekend, it might be a good time for the vandal to strike again.”

“So what will we do?”

“Oh, he says he's coming up with a plan.” Owen chuckled. “I guess we'll just have to wait and see.”

Kristy turned toward the seasonal office. Great. Just what she needed.

“Wait a minute. The stakeout isn't all that you need to know about.”

She stopped and turned around. The tone of Owen's voice told her she wasn't going to like what was coming next.

“Arnie and Hank have decided that since you're a seasonal now, you should be considered the ‘leader' of the seasonal staff this year.”

She furrowed her brow. The leader? There had never been a leader of seasonal staff before. “Meaning?”

“Meaning that training them will be your responsibility.” She made a face.

“You'll like them. Twin boys from Savannah. Matthew and Mason Gerhardt. Both history majors at Union University. Just finishing their freshman year, I think.” Owen at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“Great. So basically what you're saying is that I'll be babysitting two teenagers for the summer?”

This day just got better and better.

“At least Arnie and Hank are recognizing your seniority. It could be a lot worse, you know.”

She wasn't so sure.

It was a good thing Ace didn't have a social life, or he wouldn't be too happy about giving up his night. He looked around at the grumpy faces of the other rangers. It seemed he wasn't the only one less than thrilled about being here at such a late hour.

“Listen up,” superintendent Arnie Bramblett barked like a drill sergeant. “We're going to go out in teams of two. I've handpicked some of the more popular monuments and will assign each team to one.”

Ace sighed. It must've been louder than he'd intended, because Kristy shot a quick glance his way. He flashed her a “sorry” with his eyes and turned his attention back to Mr. Bramblett.

“Owen, I'd like for you and Steve to go together. Since Steve is the law enforcement ranger, you'll just be keeping an eye out. Let him handle it if you see anything suspicious.”

Owen nodded.

“I'll be going with Hank. Hank has his law enforcement commission, so the same thing will apply to us. I will only be there to be a lookout. I'll be radioing for backup if we run into anything.”

“And Kristy, that leaves you to go with Ace. He also has his law enforcement commission. You're only there to radio for help and to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. By no means should you get out of the car if a chase ensues.” He gave her a stern look for a moment, and Ace wondered what she'd done to get on the big boss's bad side.

Kristy nodded sheepishly.

Ace cringed when they finally made their way to the parking lot. On top of assigning them partners and locations, the superintendent had also issued each team a park service vehicle. And as luck would have it, he and Kristy had gotten the worst one.

They silently walked toward the battered old pickup.

“so do you want to drive, or do you want me to?” Kristy asked.

As far as he knew, those were the only words she'd spoken all night. He got the impression that she'd rather be anywhere but here. On second thought, maybe it wasn't the assignment. Maybe she'd just rather be anywhere than with him.

He didn't care who drove. He just wanted to get along. “It doesn't matter to me. You can drive if you want to.”

“Fine.”

They climbed into the truck, and Kristy headed toward the Confederate Monument.

“You think we'll see some action?” he asked.

She pressed her lips together, and for a second, he thought she might ignore him. “I have no idea. The Confederate Monument did get damaged by a vandal a few years ago, though. It caused quite a ruckus.”

When she didn't offer any more information, Ace wondered if she'd only referenced it to show him how long she'd been around. Owen had warned him that Kristy was pretty attached to her job. She must be having a tough time, considering her current situation.

She expertly pulled the pickup over on the side of the road. The monument was in their line of sight, but they weren't right in front of it.

“This spot okay?” she asked.

“Looks good to me.”

She put the truck in park, turned off the key, and slumped down in the seat.

Whoever had said silence was deafening must've been stuck in a vehicle with someone he didn't know. He looked over at her. Hadn't he resolved that life was too short to live with pretense? Time to put that theory to the test. “So I guess you hate me?”

She sat up straight and stared at him, her blue eyes wide. “What?”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn't you hate me? I moved in and took your job, took your yellow office, and took your pay scale. Does that just about sum it up?”

“You took my Junior Ranger Program, too,” she mumbled.

He couldn't hold back a snicker. “Well, by all means, tell me how you really feel.”

A small smile teased the corners of her lips. “You asked.”

“You know, because of circumstances beyond our control, we may not ever be the best of friends, but if we're going to have to work together, wouldn't it be better if we weren't enemies either?”

The hint of a smile faded. “I guess.”

Ace opened the truck door. “I'll go sit on the other side of the monument while you wait here. If you see any trouble, call me on the radio.”

She nodded.

He closed the door behind him and began the long journey to the other side of the monument. Had he been out of line with her? He hoped his outburst hadn't made things even worse between them. But he didn't want to have to dread going to work every day.

He crouched down in the clearing just opposite the monument. There was nothing around him but darkness. Mr. Bramblett had insisted that each team stay in their assigned spot for two full hours before returning to the visitor center. He pushed the Indiglo button on his watch. Forty-five minutes had passed. It was going to be a long night.

Suddenly the radio on his hip crackled, breaking the silence.

“Two-ten to two-hundred.” it was Owen, calling for Chief Strong.

“Two-hundred, go ahead.”

“There's movement near the Bloody Pond.”

Ace's heart beat faster. He looked in the direction of the truck. Kristy had the lights on and was pulling onto the road. Was she going to leave him stranded?

He ran to the edge of the pavement, and she pulled up beside him. He barely got the door closed before she took off, tires squealing.

“Is your last name Andretti?” he asked, buckling his seat belt. “The other teams are probably already there. You need to slow down.”

She didn't answer.

He felt a twinge of anger. Some people might accuse him of being reckless because he'd done some adventurous things. Bungee jumping and skydiving came to mind. But one thing he didn't tolerate was reckless driving. Ever since Caroline's accident, he'd barely gone over the speed limit. “Kristy. There aren't any lights out here. If you come around a corner and there's someone parked, you'll hit them.”

“We're not that far from the Bloody Pond. Besides, there's not going to be anyone parked out here in the middle of the road.”

“What about a deer or something? besides...” He glanced over at her, knowing full well that his next sentence would make her hate him even more. But it would also keep her from being in such an all-fired hurry. “You can't get out of the truck when we get there anyway.”

Sure enough, she let off the gas.

Kristy pulled the pickup into the parking lot next to the Bloody Pond. The patrol car and SUV were already there. Both vehicles were empty.

Ace pulled his radio off his hip.

“Two-fifty to two-hundred.” He called the chief to see what was going on.

No answer.

He locked eyes with Kristy. Her gaze held more worry than anger.

“Try again,” she urged, nodding her head toward the radio. “Two-fifty to two-hundred.”

This time the radio crackled to life. “Two-hundred. Go ahead.”

“What's your location?”

“We're out at the War Cabin now but are headed back to the vehicles.” now that he knew which direction to look, Ace could just make out their outlines in the distance.

Ace stepped out of the truck and waited for the other teams.

The driver's side door slammed, and Kristy walked over to join him.

“Guess I could get out of the truck after all.”

“Sorry about that. It was just that you were going way too fast.” He faltered with his explanation, unsure of how much to say. “I lost someone not long ago in a car accident. So I'm a stickler for safety.”

“Got it.” For a moment, her voice had a soft lilt to it. “And I'm sorry. About your loss, I mean. Really sorry.”

“Thank you.”

The other rangers finally arrived in the parking lot.

“Was it a wild-goose chase?” Kristy asked.

“Actually, it was a turkey chase.” Owen laughed. “Literally.”

Mr. Bramblett cut off their laughter. “Thanks for helping out tonight. And I may be calling on you again in the future. We'll catch whoever it is. It might take some time, but we'll do it.”

An hour into the tour the following day, Kristy finally felt like she'd gotten her park ranger groove back. The visitors on the bus—a mix of elderly men and women—seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. After offering her a stiff greeting, Ace had taken a seat at the back of the fifteen-passenger bus. She glanced at him now, frantically taking notes. What were the chances that he was getting it all mixed up?

“On our left is tour stop number three.” she directed their attention to a bumpy dirt road and an open field. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Hornet's nest.” A smile crossed her lips as the passengers, including Ace, sat up straighter and craned their necks to look at the place with the odd name. Visitors loved this spot. “The Civil War soldiers who fought in this area of the battlefield said the bullets whizzing by their heads reminded them of a swarm of hornets.”

While many members of the group snapped pictures of the tour stop, Kristy stood at the front and briefly explained what had happened there.

“If you want to get off the bus for a moment to get a better view, we have plenty of time.” she didn't expect any of them to take her up on the offer. One look at their shoes—dressy rather than sturdy—told her this was a group who wanted to sit on the bus, look out the window, and enjoy the ride. Over the years, she'd gotten to be an expert at judging a group's energy level by their footwear. “Any questions before we move on?”

“Young lady?” An elderly gentleman with a shock of white hair waved his hand at her. “Do you know if there were any boys from Iowa who fought in this area?”

Before she could answer his question, a voice piped up from the back.

“Yes sir. There were several regiments from Iowa here at Shiloh.” Ace stood as he spoke and put his ranger hat on his head.

Kristy could only watch as he confidently strode up the aisle to where she stood. It was his take-charge attitude that gave the truth away.

Her tour had just been hijacked.

She put the microphone in Ace's waiting hand and sank down into a seat.

Fine. Let's see what Ranger Kennedy has up his sleeve. Besides a muscled arm.

“The Eighth Iowa infantry was especially active in this area of the battlefield.” Ace motioned toward the field. “After Captain Hickenlooper's men abandoned their cannons due to heavy Confederate fire, the Eighth Iowa rushed in to try and save them. What followed was a brutal hand-to-hand combat.”

Ace was off to a pretty good start, but soon all Kristy could hear was
blah, blah, blah
as he droned on and on about regimental positions and maneuvers. She turned in her seat and checked out the crowd. He'd lost the majority of the visitors already. The women had a glazed-over look, and the men who were still awake were starting to fidget. She knew she had to do something. But what?

Leaning forward in her seat, she nudged the bus driver and motioned for him to move on. Now all she needed to do was to wrangle the microphone away from Ace and get this tour back under control.

Kristy hopped up and stood next to Ace. Surely he'd wind it down soon. But he was still talking. He gave them a rundown of all the important northern generals who participated here. Sherman, Grant, Wallace, McClernand. The list was impressive—or it would have been if everyone in the group wasn't in an information-overload coma.

They continued to make their way around the tour route. Suddenly a loud snore came from the middle of the bus. Kristy glanced at Ace.

“And now, Miss O'Neal will tell you what happened here.” Ace finally handed over the microphone.

She looked out the bus window to see where they were and froze. She didn't want to tell anyone what happened there. She didn't even want to be there. The last time she'd seen Rhea Springs, she'd been wearing a wedding gown and watching her perfect wedding crumble around her.

Kristy took a breath and tried to formulate something to say. Had he done this on purpose? Was he trying to show her that he might bore visitors to sleep, but he was still higher up on the food chain than she was?

Ace returned to his seat without a backward glance.

The elderly passengers looked at her with worry-lined faces. She forced a choked chuckle. “This is Rhea Springs, and nothing of much importance happened here. In fact, we've strayed from the regular tour route.” she leaned down to the bus driver and directed him to head back. Anything to end this disaster. Normally she'd rather lead tours all day than collect fees, but the visitor center suddenly looked very appealing.

As soon as the bus came to a stop, she bounded down the stairs and positioned herself beside the bus exit. “Thanks for your attention. Please watch your step as you exit the bus.” Kristy smiled and shook hands as the visitors began a mass exodus, most of them heading toward the bookstore.

Ace was the final passenger to descend from the bus. Kristy watched as he paused on the bottom step and turned to thank the bus driver then stepped down beside her.

She looked up at his tanned, chiseled face. Had he purposely put her on the spot at Rhea Springs? Or was she overly sensitive and paranoid? Once upon a time, she'd considered herself to be a good judge of character, but that time had passed. Looking at him now, she wasn't sure if he'd intended to humiliate her or not. But since she was through giving people the benefit of the doubt, she would have to believe that he had.

“Great tour. Very good information.” He held up his notepad and grinned, his brown eyes sparkling. “I took lots of notes.”

“Listen. I don't want to tell you how to do your job.” Her job, actually. “But don't you think you were a little too technical with that group? Most tourists would rather hear human interest stories over regimental movements.”

His eyebrows drew together. “I was only relaying the facts. I didn't think that was a problem.”

“I guess we have different styles.” Talk about an understatement. If his tour had been any indication, the manner in which they dispensed information to visitors couldn't have been more different. And even though it made her feel a tiny bit bad, she hoped there would be visitor complaints if he stuck with his way of doing things. If so, it could be helpful to her quest to get her old job back come Labor Day.

Perhaps I should keep my suggestions to myself.

Ace had found a new place to sit and think. General William Wallace's headquarters were only a stone's throw from the visitor center's lawn. The monument was set back far enough off the path that he could sit and think and be undetected by anyone. He sat down on the bottom step and looked up at the large monument. One hundred and twenty cannon balls formed a large pyramid, which sat on top of two concrete steps. Ace had just learned yesterday that they were real cannon balls. It seemed he learned something interesting every day here.

And today his lesson had been that Kristy didn't approve of the way he did his job. He hadn't meant to upset her. The snoring man had flustered him, though, and he'd been anxious to turn the tour back over to Kristy. The haunted look in her deep blue eyes as she gazed out the window to check their location had been his first clue that he'd made a grave mistake in timing.

From the frosty glare she'd given him when he exited the bus, he gathered that she would never believe the faux pas had been accidental. He'd thought about telling her that he knew what loss felt like, but she probably wouldn't have listened unless he told her the whole story. And he wasn't ready to share that with anyone. Better just to keep his distance and be careful not to antagonize her again.