“Good. You?” He doesn’t smile.
“All’s well. Allergies are better. Happy it stopped raining. Work’s been busy. Doing more school programs. New bear attacks remain at zero.” My words crowd together as I try to fill the space of his silence. “Everything is A-OK.”
“That’s …” He doesn’t finish his sentence.
“Good?”
His head bobs. “Can we talk?”
“Okay.” I remain where I am.
“Maybe inside?” He stands, rising to his full height. “If you don’t mind.”
Do I? I check in with myself. If we’re going to have a come-to-Jesus conversation, I’d prefer it not be out in the open with a potential audience of witnesses.
Silently, I pass him on the stairs, and he waits for me to open the door. I turn the key in the lock and motion for him to go ahead.
“Odin?” I touch his arm.
He stares down at where my hand rests on his forearm.
I wait until he lifts his gaze to mine before speaking. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I asked Griffin to investigate you. It was before we met in the woods and you took care of me. I don’t want you to think I was ungrateful for your kindness.”
The fire in his eyes dims. “Thank you for being honest.”
Chapter Nineteen
Odin
I wasn’t anticipating her apologizing and owning up to what she did, nor was I prepared for her gentle touch on my arm. Hesitant yet firm, I believe it’s the first time she’s touched me, not counting the finger jabs when she was hopped up on Benadryl. If I’m being fair, I know shouldn’t I hold her actions that day against her.
Once we’re inside, she stands in the middle of the room like a doe in a field. Alert and uneasy, she’s watching me, waiting for me to say or do something.
“Do you want to sit?” She points at her chair.
“Sure.” I place the bag down on the table first. “Are you going to stand?”
“No.” Shaking her head, she takes a seat on the far corner of the couch.
“We need to clear up a few misconceptions.”
“I apologized.”
“I know, and I appreciate it.” I give her a small smile. My earlier anger is already fading. “How much do you remember about our interaction on the trail?”
She grimaces. “Not a lot. Sorry.”
“Do you recall any conversation, or the accusations you made?”
Her fingers play with the end of her ponytail while she stares out her window. “I’m guessing I asked you what you were doing off trail with a pig in the rain.”
“All of the above. You also said you knew I was committing, and I quote, ‘nefarious deeds’ within the park.”
Folding her legs beneath her, she faces me. “Sounds like me.”
“Do you want to know the truth?”
“Griffin says you were foraging for mushrooms. Nothing illegal if you keep within the limits.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Yes, but I still have questions.” She lifts her shoulders.
“So do I. Given the circumstances, I think I get to go first.”
With a sheepish smile, she says, “That’s fair.”
“Did you tell Ranger Lee you suspected I had drugs in my possession?”
“No.”
“Hinted at it?”
“He may have interpreted my words to infer I meant illegal substances, but I never said those words directly.” Glancing out the window, she worries her bottom lip with her teeth.
I untangle her sentence in my head. “I’m not a drug dealer nor do I use drugs. The last thing I need is folks around here gossiping about me being either of the above. There are people who want to see me fail because they expect the worst.”
“Okay.” Her voice is barely a whisper. “I get that.”
Her meek reaction causes me to catch my tone. I sound stern, cold. “I’m not angry.”
“Are you sure?” A dry laugh follows her question.
“I am. I swear.” I change the subject before we get into a full-blown discussion of my past and this conversation becomes an NA meeting. “Back to the foraging—believe it or not—I’ve studied the Code of Federal Regulations. I’m fully aware of the rules and statutes.”
“Impressive.” I can tell she’s being honest and not sarcastic by the light in her eyes. Ranger Baum is a type-A rule-lover.
“I knew you’d like it. Within the document, near about page seven, there is a specific line about not foraging near motorways or nature trails. See the contradiction? I’m allowed to forage, but not within 200 feet of a trail, and I’m supposed to stay on the trail.”
Her brow furrows. “That isn’t very clear.”
“Not at all.”
“Leaves room for interpretation.” She leans forward.
“It does. Now, in my mind, I place wild cultivation underneath the umbrella of foraging. Am I plowing and planting seeds? No. Am I introducing invasive species like kudzu that will choke out the native plants? Nope. Am I clear-cutting forests to turn into lumber at the local mill? No.”
“You lost me.”
“If we’re going to move forward as friends, or whatever, I think I need to explain a few things.”
“Like why you went hiking with a pack full of apples?”
“I didn’t bring them with me.”
She unfolds her legs and plants them on the floor.
“There’s a wild apple orchard not too far from the Cooper Road ranger station. Planted before the park existed.”
“No there isn’t. I’d know if there were.” Her chin lifts with her certainty.
“We can make a bet if you like losin’.”
“I think I know the park where I’m a ranger.”
“And I know there’s an old, fallow orchard that’s still producing fruit near the Cooper trail. I’ve been picking them all season to make cider.”
“You know I can’t support illegally obtained apples.” She digs in, arms crossed.
There’s something wrong with me because I find her obstinance a turn on. “Not illegal.”
“According to section 2.6 of the code, those apples are protected from commercial usage.”
“Actually, they’re not, because they’re not mentioned.”
“You have no right to use them for commercial gain.”
“Didn’t say I was.”
“The federal—”
I cut her off. “The federal government is comprised of the people for the people, yes? Acting on behalf of citizen taxpayers, correct? Feel free to nod in agreement.”
She glares instead.
“I’m a citizen. I also pay my taxes—local, state, and federal. I’m not stealing rocks or plants or archeological treasures. The apples aren’t a native species, nor are they technically on national park land.”
“They could be feeding the bears, deer, squirrels, or birds. Even the wild boar.”
“All true, and I leave enough behind for all of them to enjoy. Anything on the ground belongs to them.”