Page 11 of The Fire Line

The following morning, Evan proved considerably easier to film.

He talked while he worked and seemed incapable of becoming self-conscious around a camera. Jay followed him through the guest side of the ranch while Evan explained the trail operation, the cabins, and the increasingly lucrative wedding business, pausing only when Willa appeared with one boot on and demanded his immediate attention.

“June says he’s alive,” Willa announced, holding out a dirt-covered palm. A worm lay motionless across it. “I think he’s dead.”

Jay lowered the camera and conducted a brief examination. “I regret to inform you that your assessment appears correct.”

Willa frowned at him.

“He’s dead,” Jay clarified.

Her whole face brightened with triumph. From behind Evan, June began to wail.

Evan closed his eyes briefly. “Thanks for that.”

“I’m just here to document the facts.”

Evan carried the dispute toward the porch, Willa trotting beside him.

It was easy to understand why guests liked him. Evan moved comfortably between both sides of the ranch, discussing occupancy rates one minute and crouching in the dirt over a worm the next. Harris seemed to belong almost entirely to the other version of the place, the one beyond the lodge where something always needed fixing, moving, feeding, or keeping alive.

By early afternoon, they had worked their way north of the guest cabins. From higher ground, Jay could see a dark interruption across the distant slope where standing dead timber rose above younger growth. Lower down, a narrow band of green followed the creek through the otherwise dry land.

He lifted the camera. “That’s the restoration area?”

Evan followed his gaze. “Part of it.”

“How do we get there?”

“Old access road around the north pasture, then you’re on foot.”

Jay lowered the camera. “Can you take us? I’d love to get out there tomorrow.”

Evan glanced toward the lodge, where a delivery truck had just pulled into the drive. “Sorry man, can’t tomorrow. We have a wedding coming in.”

Of course.

“Could someone else take us?”

Evan’s expression changed just enough to become suspicious.

Jay sighed. “Ah.”

Evan grinned and started toward the delivery truck. “Harris knows the route.”

Naturally.

Jay looked once more toward the scar, then folded the production map beneath his arm.

* * *

Late that afternoon, Harris was beside the north-pasture trough resetting the float valve when he heard footsteps coming through the dry grass. He knew who it was before he looked up. Most people on the ranch either called out or had the sense to leave him alone when he was bent over something with a wrench. Navarro seemed constitutionally incapable of either.

Harris kept working.

Navarro came to a stop on the other side of the trough, a folded map in one hand and his sunglasses pushed into his hair. He had spent most of the day filming with Evan on the guest side, which meant Harris had managed several uninterrupted hours without him appearing somewhere in his line of sight.

Apparently that was over.