The Ranger's Passionate Love

After a minute, Jason made a “cut-it” motion to the driver. The noise and flying mud subsided.

Kyara made her way over to Jason.

Up close, he looked even better. What might have been flannel at some point now hugged him so closely Kyara could make out the individual curves of the muscles on his arms.

“Give it up, Rich. That thing’s not moving anywhere. We’re gonna have to dig it out the hard way,” Jason was saying.

"Jason?" Kyara called tentatively.

He looked up at her, surprised. A single smudge of black mud ran adorably across his cheek.

"Yes, Kyara?" he responded.

"I don't know if it would help, but I have a lot of gravel back at the restaurant." Kyara hunched her shoulders. "I was thinking I'd put in a parking lot out back, but it hasn't really been necessary. Anyway, i

t's just sitting there."

With a whoop, Jason scooped her up and spun them both around. Kyara settled back dizzily, acutely aware of just how low his hands had been.

"That would be perfect," he exclaimed, then stopped. "Are you sure you can spare it? I mean, things might pick up for you come tourist season or something."

Kyara sighed. "I doubt it," she said. "Besides, this path helps me out at much as anybody. It might as well go to a good cause."

Jason smiled, his eyes sparkling.

"You're a dream." he turned back to the pick-up. "Can you drive her back to get it, Rich? That way we could get it back here and in before it gets dark?"

There was a long, stony silence from the cabin of the truck. Then wordlessly, Officer Marsh reached over, and opened the passenger side door.

Kyara climbed in, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Ashley was staring knives at her, and Caitlin took the time to wink. Kyara wasn't thinking about Jason anymore, though.

In the weeks she'd been coming out to the project, the officer had yet to speak to her directly.

He'd talk around her, or even in her presence, but never to her.

Not even once.

The door of the truck slammed closed like the lid of a coffin, and they were off. The truck bounced and jerked down the still uneven path.

It's okay, Kyara. Maybe he just needs time. Other people have started to warm up – there's no reason he won't either. Maybe you just have to give him an opening.

"So," started Kyara. "It's hard to imagine wagons and things making their way over ground this rough."

Officer Marsh grunted, his eyes on the road.

"I mean," continued Kyara gamely, "a hundred years ago, or whatever. I can't imagine their engines were as good as this one."

Marsh didn't respond at all this time. Okay, the joke was lame, but come on, you've gotta give me something here.

"How much farther is it to the mill site, anyway?" she asked desperately.

Marsh shrugged.

Kyara turned towards the window. She was prepared to ride the rest of the way in silence until she caught her own reflection in the glass. She sat there, looking a little sullen, like a kid who wasn't invited to the grown-ups table. Behind her, Officer Marsh's stern, white face seemed to loom above her.

Oh, Hell, no. I'm tired of this. I've been nice for weeks. I'm not doing it anymore, Kyara finally decided.

She turned back to face the silent sheriff.