Anne Duquette - Her Own Ranger

It’ll stay that way until the poachers who tried to kill me are caught, or I’m six feet under.

No trace of her poachers had ever been found. They’d been organized and shockingly bold. They’d had the nerve to masquerade as environmentalists, closing the gas pump at an African field station—citing fictitious leaks in order to do that. Then they’d used the deserted station as their base of operations, complete with free fuel for their vehicles.

“Would you like anything else?” the flight attendant asked.

“Could I please get a pillow, if you don’t mind?”

Soon after, Alisha relaxed with Vivaldi’s Four Seasons playing in her headphones. Her empty glass taken away, she burrowed comfortably into her blanket.

Ah, first-class service. I don’t get much of this. Better enjoy it while I can.

She could easily have drifted off, except for her niggling thoughts.

Why did the tribal council change its mind? Why let me in a whole year after refusing me? Why is Josh pushing this? I didn’t really need Seminole land to do a story on gators or panthers. I can get local color elsewhere, no matter what Josh says. Something’s not right. And my future depends on this job.

Every instinct told her one thing.

There’s trouble ahead.

CHAPTER THREE

Miami, Florida

THE HEAT SIZZLED off the pavement, causing rippling silver mirages on Miami’s runways. Carson and Adoette were waiting in the arrivals lounge. Carson glanced at his wristwatch, then out the window.

“That should be their plane now.”

Adoette shivered. She tugged the edges of her sleeves even lower. Seminoles, whether in modern or traditional dress, tended to cover as much of their skin as possible against the ferocious mosquitoes. Dressed in her traditional long, layered skirt and light blouse with three-quarter sleeves, Adoette was no exception. Only now her clothes protected her from air-conditioning instead of bugs.

“Here, take this.” Carson removed his brown NPS uniform jacket and held it out for her to slip over her chilled arms. He himself usually wore the long brown pants, long-sleeved shirt and boots of the National Park Service. Today, as a concession to being away from the Everglades and around hot tarmac, he wore a short-sleeved shirt and the jacket above a pair of uniform shorts. On most men they would have looked ridiculous. Carson wasn’t most men.

“How do these people stand it?” Adoette asked, her teeth still chattering.

“They get used to it, I suppose. Like we get used to heat and bug spray.”

Adoette looked miserable. Carson slung his good arm around her shoulder—his other was still a bit stiff—and pulled his friend close.

“Better?”

Adoette smiled, her face framed by long black hair, the smile a thing of beauty beneath the dark brown eyes so many of his people shared. Adoette had inherited her family’s small frame; Carson had taken after his father, a tall man with a strong, lean build and a stubbornness in his jaw.

Watching Adoette, Carson thought, Ray’s a damn fool. And Adoette’s an even bigger one for waiting. She needs a man who’s like her—not a guy more interested in bright lights and excitement than finding a wife. Well, maybe she’ll change her mind. Ray never will. Not after Susannah...

Adoette interrupted his thoughts. “What do you think Alisha Jamison looks like? I’ve never seen pictures of her. Have you?”

“No. Does it matter?”

Adoette kept her gaze on the plane as it taxied toward their gate location, and switched to Seminole for privacy. “I hoped to spot her early...see if she looks friendly. I want to be her assistant while she’s here,” Adoette announced.

Her reply caught Carson off guard. “Assistant? She has a partner. He does the writing and producing.”

“I know, but I understand Alisha does most of the fieldwork. She’ll need a local guide, and he’s not it. Someone needs to lead her in one direction while you men go after those poachers in the other. I want it to be me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Carson! Your plan to let the famous Ms. Jamison scare the poachers off Seminole land is so obvious.”

“Is it, now? How did you arrive at this conclusion?”

“Easy. You’ve made sure she does her research on reservation instead of public land. And you’re meeting with her tonight. Everyone will know about it because you had Ray call the media. You’re setting her up as a bird dog to flush out our poachers, aren’t you?”

“There’s more to it than that.”

“Then fill me in.”

Carson swore in Seminole, but didn’t bother denying it. He never lied, and even if he did, he doubted he could fool Adoette. “First, tell me how you found out.”

“Easy. I’m invisible, you know.” Her words were bitter, contrasting with her youthful beauty. “Especially to Ray.”

“You’re not invisible.”

“I don’t want to discuss it. I don’t want poachers on our land, either, and I know these waters as well as you do. Alisha Jamison needs a trustworthy guide. Let me help. Deborah doesn’t really need me, and God knows I have nothing better to do.”

“Adoette—” Carson marshaled his thoughts before speaking. Adoette had tried college but she’d grown depressed away from the land she loved. Whereas, he was comfortable in both worlds, even if he preferred the wetlands.

Adoette, on the other hand, was like those earlier Native Americans who, taken away from their land, died of heartbreak. She wasn’t invisible, at all; she simply fit into her beloved home so well she was a timeless part of it. Ray was the odd one out, the proverbial sore thumb. He’d left to find his own place to belong, something Adoette already had.

“Ordinarily I’d ask for your help.” Carson chose his words cautiously. “But my plan’s already settled. Ray’s going to show Alisha around reservation land while I continue to hunt for the poachers.”

“Ray’s in on this?” Adoette said, shocked. “He hates the Everglades!”

“He loved his uncle. My father was Ray’s father after Deborah’s husband died. So Ray’s taken some time off from his job. He insisted on coming along to help.”

“Well, I’m insisting, too!”

“It’s not a good idea. Your...problems with Ray could make trouble on this expedition. Three people is all I need. I’m guessing the poachers won’t stay on the reservation while an antipoaching celebrity like Alisha Jamison is there. That could be the break I need to find them. Besides, Ray and I are family. You aren’t.”

“That’s no reason for me to stay behind,” Adoette argued. “What if the poachers don’t do what you want? What then?”

“They won’t have any choice. As long as I keep Alisha on our land—tribal land—the poachers have to lie low or move onto park service land. The NPS will close off the area to tourists and patrol the borders. I’ve already been given the green light by my boss. Our poachers are greedy bastards. They won’t want to wait a whole month for her to leave. Sooner or later—and probably sooner—they’ll strike.”

“It’s a good plan, Carson. If it works.”

He shrugged. “Well, if it doesn’t, I’ll have to come up with something else. But I figure chances are good that it will. We know they’re operating here now—and we know it’s the same group. So...”

“You’re forgetting one thing.”

“What?” Despite her feelings about Ray, Adoette had wisdom about others he rarely disregarded.

“It might not fool Ms. Jamison. What if she figures it out?”

“Since she’ll be safe, I don’t intend to tell her. Do you?”

Adoette pulled his jacket closer. “No. But since you won’t be guiding her, she’ll get suspicious. How will you explain your absence?”