“Or we could see if it starts and park it by the campground.” Griffin steps closer to the car.
“Not sure that’s an option. Wires were pulled from the dashboard.” I open the door and point at the tangled mess.
“Keys?” He holds out his hand.
I give them to him.
After unlocking the doors, he slides the seat back and slips inside. “One for the money, two for the show. Three to get ready and four to go.”
When he turns the key, nothing happens.
“That’s disappointing. We need someone who can hotwire a car. Don’t suppose either of you have experience?”
Gaia and I both shake our heads.
“Shame.” He frowns and stares down the drive. “Ah, here’s someone who can probably help us.”
Griffin stands and greets Odin who walks out of the mist accompanied by his pig.
“What are you doing here?” My shame and embarrassment cause my voice to sound overly harsh and unwelcoming.
“Mornin to you too. Patsy and I decided to take a walk around the loop today. She was craving acorns.” Odin lifts his baseball cap by the brim to adjust it before replacing it back on his head. Patsy tips her head back, her nose wiggling as she sniffs.
Griffin gives her a scratch on the top of her head, and she snuffles his palm.
“What’s going on here?” Odin asks, leaning down to peer through the window.
“Bear,” Griffin tells him.
“Ahh.” Odin walks a circuit around the trash heap formerly known as my car. “Someone leave food inside?”
“Soap, actually,” Gaia explains.
“Honey oatmeal,” I add..
Odin’s warm brown eyes meet my gaze. “Yours?”
“Was.”
“Ouch.”
Blinking back yet more tears, I twist my head away from the wreckage and his judgment.
“Pity.” Odin worries his bottom lip. His concern appears genuine, but as I learned last night, appearances can be deceiving. The soap incident has distracted me from my internet search, but it all comes back now that I’m face to face with him.
“We’re going to use it as a lesson for visitors,” Griffin explains. “Silver lining.”
“Insurance?”
Shaking my head, I don’t elaborate. I can’t have this conversation again. “I need to get ready for my shift.”
“Right. We all have a busy day ahead. Odin, you think you can splice the wires to get the engine to start? We want to move the vehicle over to the campground.”
“Why would you think I know how to do that?” Odin asks.
Griffin snorts. “Seriously?”
Odin removes his baseball cap and runs his hand through his hair. “It’s been almost twenty years, but I can give it a shot—if that’s okay with Daphne.”
I barely meet his eyes before shrugging. “You can’t make it any worse.”
“Actually, if it caught fire, that would be worse. We’d have to get the fire crew over to put it out.”
“Griffin.” Gaia chastises him with a single look.
“Oh, right. Sorry, Daphne.”
“Let’s get more coffee. I still have half a pot left.” Gaia touches my elbow. “We have time before your shift.”
Once we’re inside her cabin, I turn to Gaia, finally able to ask the questions bubbling inside me since Odin’s appearance.
“Do they come to the park often? Isn’t that weird? Are pigs even allowed? Dogs can’t be on trails, but what are the rules about other pets?”
“So many questions.” She gives me a quizzical look.
“He walks a pig on a leash—how could I not be curious?”
“They avoid the official trails and crowds. Otherwise, they’re not causing trouble.”
Neither of those sentences provide answers. It’s unlike Gaia.
“A pet pig is less of an issue than the wild boars in the park, less dangerous, and Patsy doesn’t cause damage. We should be more worried about bears who might develop a taste for honey and oatmeal. We’ll need to file a report with Dr. Runous about the bear destroying your car. Can you handle printing and distributing flyers about the incident? We’ll need to be extra vigilant about bear cans and bags. If the bear comes back, we might need to take steps to relocate or euthanize.” She finishes her lecture as she refills our cups with coffee then holds up the bottle of Bailey’s.
“Thanks.”
Pointing to her couch, she settles into an arm chair. “Why are you so concerned about Patsy?”
“Besides the fact he’s flouting the park rules?” My dander is up and I’m not willing to put it back down just yet.
“I don’t believe pigs are specifically mentioned in the bylaws. Oscar the donkey escapes and roams around on occasion. I’ve never heard you complain about him.”
Her point is valid.
“Because he’s an animal that doesn’t know better.”
“Could it be more about Odin?” Peering over her mug, she sips her coffee.
Dear lord in heaven, I really do not want to discuss my feelings with her. “Why would you ask?”
“You act different around him. Your face gets pinched like you’ve eaten something sour. And you touch your hair a lot, which tells me he makes you nervous. Or …”
I drop my hand into my lap. “Habit.”
“… you’re flirting with him.”
“Pfft,” I scoff.
“Yeah. I didn’t think so.” Her eyes are knowing and wise.
A knock sounds on her door.
“Come in,” she shouts, without moving from her chair.
Odin’s head appears around the jamb and his eyes seek me out in the room. “Hey. Sorry to interrupt. We got the car started and Griffin drove it to the station for now. Wanted to let you know.”
My fingers tug on the ends of my hair near my shoulder before I realize what I’m doing. I sit on my hand and refuse to look at Gaia.
“Uh, thanks,” I mumble.
He doesn’t leave, nor does he enter the room.
“Thanks for your help this morning,” Gaia tells him. She sounds genuinely grateful, particularly compared to my reluctant tone.
“Sure. Happy to help. Let me know if I can do anything else.” He meets my eyes. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Don’t be a stranger.” She’s all warm friendliness.
Through the screen door, I watch him walk away with Patsy beside him. Gaia sips her coffee, her eyes on me.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing really. I’ve seen Odin around for years, and I think this morning is the most I’ve ever heard him talk.”
“What do you mean? He was chatting up customers at the farmers’ market a couple of weeks ago. A genuine Mr. Chuckles.”
“He was working the booth?” She sits up and places her empty cup on the table next to her chair.
I bob my chin.
“Interesting.”
“That a farmer would be hawking his own vegetables?”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“Patsy was with there too.”
“Interesting.”
“How so?”
“Usually it’s a cousin or two, never Odin. He told me himself he avoids the ‘weekly circus’—his words, not mine—at all costs.”