She’d never understood how her sorority sisters could get starstruck over some guy. Now she did. She was powerless to snap herself out of it.
Almost powerless. Shewasa ranger, for goodness’ sake.
But wow, was he ever tall. The kind of tall that had to duck under doorways. His shoulders and arms looked strong enough to chop down trees in a single swing, and his glossy black hair, neatly trimmed, the hiking boots that had clearly been places—all added to his quiet intensity.
But it was his face that kept her mesmerized. The angles were striking—cheekbones sharply defined, the kind that could cut glass. And his eyes—startlingly dark, almost black, yet conveyed calm. Peace. Like deep pools of still water, utterly steady and unwavering. She found herself almost holding her breath, simply absorbing the intensity of his gaze. There was a weight to it, an undeniable presence that made her forget, for a moment, everything else.
This bear of a man was captivating.
Chase Fletcher waited a few minutes after Scout and the others went into the library before following them in. He looked around but didn’t see where they’d gone.
“Can I help you, Chase?”
He turned to see a librarian whom he’d known for as longas he could remember. “Hi, Melissa. I was, uh, just stopping by to see if the library might want to run an ad in next week’sGazette. We’ve got a special going.”
A look of pity filled her face, making him want to cringe. “Oh, I’m sorry, Chase. Our Facebook ads have swallowed up the budget. Say, have you ever considered taking theGazetteinto the digital world?”
Seriously? An ironic comment from someone whose main job was to care for books. And by the way, theGazettewas available online. He’d told her that many times. Now wasn’t the time to tell her again. “Melissa ... did you happen to see some rangers come into the library?”
“Oh yeah. They’re meeting with Naki in a conference room.”
“Naki ... so he’s that super tall guy?”
“Yeah. Wabanaki Dana.”
“I just ... haven’t seen a guy that tall off the basketball court.”
She leaned in. “He’s giving a talk at the library tonight. Are you covering it?” Her eyes went round. “The library is always grateful for the exposure.”
Right.Free exposure without having to cough up a buck. “I’ll pass that on to my features editor.” He started backing up. “If you reconsider running an ad, you know where to find me.”
Back in his car, Chase wasted no time pulling up info about Wabanaki Dana on his phone. The basics were impressive: Harvard-educated lawyer, a policy advisor for the Penobscot Nation, quoted in news articles, a strong advocate for Indigenous rights and environmental preservation. He’d rejected lucrative offers in order to stay rooted in his community, running workshops, advising on land deals, and even guest speaking on federal-tribal relations.
Chase rubbed his temples. He was about the same age as this guy, but Wabanaki Dana was already making waves. Meanwhile, Chase was barely treading water. He’d inherited thenewspaper from his father, an enduring family business that was turning into a crumbling cliff. He felt like he was on the precipice, about to lose the very ground he stood on.
This shipwreck and gold story might change all that.
He needed information. But from whom? Instinctively, he knew the Penobscot policymaker wouldn’t talk. The older ranger was a no-go—too experienced to let anything slip. Scout? Possibly. But after the way she shut the kid down at the pier, she might shut Chase down just as fast. And he didn’t want to blow it with her. There was something special between them, and it was worth protecting.
Now, the kid—that was a different story. Kids talked. Kids didn’t think about what they were saying half the time.
Yeah, the kid. That was Chase’s way in.
Maisie Mitchell practically bounced in her seat as the bus rolled off the highway to head toward Bar Harbor. She could hardly believe she was almost at Acadia National Park, where the salty air met the evergreen smell of pines and the mist lingered over the ocean like a secret. That’s how it was phrased in the guidebook, anyway.
She’d been looking forward to this moment for months, counting down the days until she’d see her grandfather again—and Frankie. It had been two whole years since Grand Teton, but she wasn’t that awkward kid with braces anymore. She’d begged her orthodontist to take them off a month early, and now her teeth felt smooth and grown-up. Perfect for smiling at Frankie. Perfect for kissing.
She practiced her smiling at the elderly lady sitting behind her on the bus. Acadia, Maisie told her, was the first national park east of the Mississippi, though it didn’t get the name Acadia until much later. The old lady looked at her curiously, just enough encouragement for Maisie to continue her fun facts.“Jordan Pond is supposed to be so clear you can see all the rocks at the bottom. The guidebook keeps going on and on and on about the popovers at the Jordan Pond House too.”
Maisie wasn’t totally sure what a popover was, but if they were that famous, she already knew she’d have to try one. Maybe two.
“And the carriage roads were built by John D. Rockefeller Jr. to keep cars out and make the park more horse friendly.” Over the seat, she showed the elderly woman a picture in the guidebook of horse-drawn carriages trotting along those postcard-perfect stone bridges. “Look at that. The guidebook isn’t exaggerating.”
The old lady smiled at her.
So Maisie decided to keep going. “And the hiking! Over 150 miles of trails, from mountain climbs like the Beehive to paths that hug the ocean. I’m going to hike every mile. Well, maybe not every single one. Still, I don’t care how sweaty I’ll be. This is going to beepic.” That was a word Frankie used a lot. That and “keep your cool on.”
The bus came to a stop, and Maisie turned around to gather her belongings. As she rose to leave, she smiled at the old lady. “Very nice to chat with you.”
