Rock and A Hard Place (Cascade Brides Series) (9 page)

She nodded her head, amused for some reason. “I know
a lot
of rangers. In several counties.”

“And I bet they were always ready and willing to help out a pretty
photographer.”

“It was always for professional reasons of course,” she said in
a lowering tone.

He laughed without much humor.

“I didn't know you were sexist,” Faith said sweetly.

“Hey, I'm not the one bragging about knowing
a
lot
of rangers.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Faith, I know you're not as ignorant as you'd like me to think.”

Her eyes widened in hurt. “Trust me,” she said, “I wouldn't
want to let anyone in on my
ignorance
.”

Shane looked over at her, apparently taken aback by her reaction.
“Whoa. I just took a wrong turn with you. Again.”

Faith didn't trust herself to speak. She turned her head to look out
the window. This excursion was a
stupid
idea.

“Faith,” he said, his voice gentle. “Look at me.”

Not wanting to appear as grouchy as she felt, she turned to him,
sending him a limpid look.

“I just meant that you don't give yourself enough credit.”

She held his gaze for a long moment while they sat at a red light.
Not wanting to go down this road with him conversationally, she
attempted a weak smile. “Oh.”

But it seemed he wasn't ready to give it up.

“Why did you bring up my portfolio to Merle like that?”

Faith cleared her throat. “Sorry, I didn't know it was a
surprise.”

He headed across the intersection and took the highway that led to
the mountains. “That's not it and you know it. You purposefully
elevated my photos over yours. Why would do that?”

She looked at him with wide eyes. “Just being honest.”

“I doubt it was that simple,” he said, his smile now absent.

“I'm not that complicated, Shane.”

“Believe me,” he said quietly, “
you
are
.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. His shocked expression turned to a
reluctant smile. “Exactly.”

The remainder of the drive passed with an unspoken agreement of
civility. They talked of soil erosion issues in Oregon compared to
the other states where he'd worked. Faith sensed a lot of his
information came from reports and official documentation. She
wondered how many farmers and ranchers he'd actually talked to about
the issue. Some of the families who'd worked the land for
generations took a while to warm up to the new rangers. Some never
warmed up at all.

“I'm sure you've heard about how gold mining was responsible for
much of the past erosion in Wheeler County,” she said.

“Yes, I read about that. But in the last few decades it's
primarily been due to farms and ranches that share the creek.”

“So, are you going to tell the farmers and ranchers to stop
farming and ranching?”

Shane sent her a pointed look. “I can tell you're trying to set me
up.” He sighed. “I actually wanted to use today to just
introduce myself to them and open up a dialogue.”

“They've already been talked to endlessly by the feds.”

“So, what, I'm a G-Man now?”

“I'm serious, Shane, they're just trying to survive out here like
anyone else.”

“Then this will be a continuing conversation. It's part of my job
to maintain both economic stability as well as environmental.”

“Sounds like that came out of a book.”

“Faith,” he said exasperated, “this isn't something new to me.
In Arizona and Idaho I talked to farmers and ranchers without
offending anyone. As I said, today will primarily be an introduction
so I can get to know the people around here.”

“I thought you were going to get me access to restricted land.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “That was the carrot. Business
first, then pleasure.”

“Restricted pleasure, Shane? Are you sure about that?”

He sent her a look that said he wanted to give her at the very least
a noogey.

They arrived at the first ranch, Harrison Acres. Shane had called
ahead, so he was met at the gate while she remained in the Jeep.
Shane introduced himself and mentioned a quick overview of issues to
be aware of, then gave out his card with his personal cell number on
it. Despite assuming the meeting would be strained, Shane's demeanor
apparently won over the rancher, his wife and adult sons, based on
their open expressions. Mr. Harrison kept a congenial conversation
going for several minutes beyond what was necessary. It seemed he
and Shane were both intent on making good impressions.

“That obviously went well,” Faith said as they climbed back into
the Jeep.

“Why didn't you come out and say hi? I assumed you knew everyone
in the area.”

“I said I knew the rangers around here, not the ranchers. Besides,
you were on official,
federal
business.”

“Ah,” he said, a knowing look in his eye.

As they drove to the next place, she sensed Shane's assessment from
his side of the cab. “So excluding ranchers, do you know anyone
else around here aside from rangers?”

“Of course. John Day is a small town.”

“I mean who are your friends? Surely you don't go hiking alone on
a regular basis?”

Faith sent him an accusing look. “So that's what this is about?
You're babysitting me so I don't hike by myself?”

“I have to admit that taking you along whenever possible might
curb some of your loner hikes, but what I'm asking is do you ever go
with anyone else?”

“So not only are you insinuating that I can't handle myself on my
own, but that I also have no friends?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “Just making
conversation.”

Faith felt like punching his shoulder. Why did he have to be so
snoopy? “Merle is getting a little too old to be following me up
mountain trails.”

“I wasn't actually referring to Merle.”

“Shane,” she said patiently, “I know almost everyone in John
Day. I know everyone at church.”

“I'm talking about tight friends. Bosom buddies.”

“Why are we talking about this at all?” she said, crossing her
arms over her chest.

“I just noticed at church you didn't seem to have any
relationships beyond passing acquaintance.”

“And you gained all of this insight from a couple of Sundays? Just
like you get all your information from books?”

“I'm just asking a question.”

“Why is it any of your business?”

“I guess it isn't. I'm just concerned.”

“Concerned?” she said aghast. “
Concerned?
”

“You shouldn't be on your own so much. I know Merle worries—”

“Okay, so far you've told me I'm ignorant, can't get friends, need
a babysitter—”

“I'm not sure why you're being so defensive, Faith.”

“Shane, maybe I didn't grow up in the inner city of Detroit, but
let me tell you my neighborhood wasn't exactly Easy Street. So not
only can I handle myself in any situation, but I think you'll find
yourself a new trail buddy if I have to endure the third degree
every time I get in the Jeep with you.”

“This isn't the third degree. It's called a relationship.”

“We don't have a relationship!”

“Yet. That's what I'm working on.” He pulled to a stop at the
next address on his list.

Faith struggled to keep her expression neutral. “Why would you
want a relationship with someone with all my negative qualities
anyway?”

He sent her a bemused look. “The only negative quality so far is
your argumentativeness—”

“Oh, so for us to be friends I have to agree with everything you
say?”

“Of course not. But friends let friends finish their sentences.”

Faith glared at him. “Have your say, Shane. Take your best shot.”

He grabbed the door handle. “It will have to wait. We're here.”

Shane eased out a frustrated breath as headed up to the ranch house.
He was beginning to think he'd be better off avoiding road trips
with the very brambly Faith. Then again, there was a reason for her
attitude. He knew she was hurting. And he didn't want to pretend the
issue was invisible. At the same time did he have to rub her nose in
it? He chided himself for losing his cool and goading her into a
response instead of easing into it down the road when they were more
comfortable with each other.

But he was impatient. And his impatience was tempered by attraction.
Even when she was riled up, Faith's loveliness held all the wild
appeal of the cathedral pines and painted hills of Wheeler County.
He wanted to explore every inch of her personality, get to know all
the zones and climates, finding the hidden places tucked away off
the beaten path. Of course, people were usually trickier terrain
than...well, terrain. He smirked at himself, pressing the gate
buzzer.

Of course, he probably had no business assuming he was the one to do
the exploring. But he couldn't seem to help himself. Just the
thought of Faith's flashing hazel eyes sent his pulse quickening.

Shane made a concerted effort to let none of his discombobulation
show as he introduced himself to the rancher who met him at the
gate. After a twenty minute chat, he headed back to the Jeep where
Faith sat fulminating. Shane could almost see steam coming out of
her ears when he climbed into the truck.

“That went well,” he said in a pleasant tone. “Now to Bear
Creek.” A peek from the corner of his eye caught Faith lifting her
stubborn chin.

“That sounds wonderful,” she said with saccharine sweetness.

Shane suppressed a grin. Hostility and sarcasm he could deal with.
He'd take it over apathy any day. The drive lasted about an
hour—everything was far-flung in eastern Oregon—and he took the
opportunity to enjoy the beautiful weather. The sky was a deep blue.
The golden mellowness arching overhead was not usually seen until
summer. Looking into the forests on either side of the road, he saw
signs of abundant wildlife. It seemed all the woodland creatures
were out enjoying the weather too.

They came to a spot just outside the border of the Warm Springs
Indian Reservation. Shane pulled off the road into a graveled area.
He wanted to avoid the trail head where people might be fishing and
instead find a less populated trail.

Faith exited the Jeep and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Her
expression was blank, but he could still discern annoyance in her
eyes. They headed down the pine needle trail, not speaking, just
putting one foot in front of the other. Jay birds swooped through
the pines and baby chipmunks scattered at their presence. He inhaled
the tangy scent of the trees. Being in the woods never failed to
calm his spirit. Hopefully it had the same effect on Faith.

After about half a mile, they broke through the trees to a rocky
area leading down to a wide, sparkling creek, bubbling with mini
whitecaps. Maidenhair ferns sprang intermittently from the rocky
soil, and tree saplings grew along the bank, shadowed by their
larger counterparts. It would be a great place for a picnic. He
glanced at his recalcitrant partner. Someday maybe.

Now to business. Shane walked along the length for several hundred
feet, looking for evidence of erosion on either side. From the
corner of his eyes, he saw Faith setting up her camera equipment on
a large flat rock. He fished a water sample kit from his own
backpack and dipped it into the rapids. From this spot check he
didn't see any obvious problems. He hoped that held true for the
rest of the creek.

Shane crouched down and jotted some descriptions in his notebook,
surreptitiously keeping one eye on Faith. She had found a fragile
flower struggling up from between boulders and was trying to frame
the shot. He decided it was a good metaphor for her. Fragile yet
tough enough to blossom in improbable circumstances.

After she was done capturing the flower, along with a curious
chipmunk, she loaded her equipment back up, keeping out her camera
for snapshots. As they hiked back up to the road, Faith in the lead,
the pines towered above them, allowing a bit of dappled sunlight to
create lacy patterns on the delicate underbrush below. Nearing the
trail head, Faith stopped and turned back to him.

He paused in mid-step and tried to read her closed expression.

“Tell me something, Shane. Do you feel closer to God in church or
out here?”

He regarded her, sensing the weight of her question, yet at the same
time, feeling unbalanced by her mercurial moods. What answer did she
expect? What answer did she
want?
He could guess the
direction of her thoughts easily enough. “Honestly, it's easier
for me to turn my thoughts toward God out here where His beauty is
so awe-inspiring. But at the same time people need each other. We're
not supposed to go it alone.”

“I'm not talking about quitting church,” she said, the color
high in her cheeks. “But out here, it's just me and the elements.
If I get hurt it's because I was careless, not because of anyone's
selfishness or agenda.”

So I was right
. But it was a hollow victory. Shane knew she'd
been hurt by someone. Who hadn't? And for whatever reason she was
not able to get past it. He didn't know how to respond without
ticking her off even more. Had her sisters abandoned her? Rejected
her? Had it been one or both of her parents? “I know people can be
difficult to deal with, but with the frustration that working on
relationships brings, there's also a tremendous amount of blessing.
And sometimes the outcome is even sweeter if it's something you've
really worked at.”

He figured his answer dissatisfied her when he saw the skin tighten
around her eyes. “As I just said, I feel closer to God out here.”

Shane bit back a retort, praying inwardly for the right words. But
in this case it seemed saying nothing was the better choice.

She turned and headed back toward the Jeep. She had answered his
question whether she realized it or not. Faith's only friend was her
sentimental boss. Shane sincerely hoped he could add to that number
by at least one.