“Fair enough.” Wearing a look of supreme satisfaction, Beth tore into her chocolate chip cookie, pausing between bites to add, “Adventure awaits.”
Meredith did the math in her head, calculating how much a summer in Montana would set her back financially. “I sincerely hope not.”
2
Meredith rattled along the rutted dirt track, her groceries and gear bouncing around in the back of her old Jeep. The ghost town of Garretsville, situated in the heart of the Garnet Mountain Range, was thirty miles from Missoula, the nearest city. It had taken her three and a half days of driving from Tennessee to arrive at this point on the GPS map.
As she crested the rise, the ghost town came into view in the valley below. Meredith pulled over and put her SUV in park. Her heart hammered away in her chest, and it wasn’t because of the possibility of encountering ghosts. That she could handle. Her pounding heart wasn’t from the altitude either. This was an introvert’s worst nightmare, and despite all that stuff about being summoned by the spirits, Meredith hadn’t truly believed she’d be chosen.
Today she’d undergo orientation and meet the three total strangers who would be her co-workers and cabinmates. That, more than anything, caused her pulse to pound and her mouth to go dry. She’d have no problem talking about history with visitors who would leave Garretsville at the end of their tour. Spending her days and nights with total strangers? That brought on all kinds of angst.
Meredith surveyed the weather-worn buildings scattered throughout the valley. She counted fourteen. Several of the structures weren’t much more than dilapidated shacks, and all of them were surrounded by spindly pines, spruce, and scrubby bushes. Garretsville didn’t fit her definition of a town—more like a hamlet or a blot on the mountainous landscape.
One of the larger cabins had a propane tank in back, and a power line connected to the building. Taking note of the ranger’s pickup truck and two other cars parked in the gravel lot, she figured that had to be where the volunteers stayed. Putting the Jeep back in gear, she continued down the hill toward whatever adventure—or misadventure as the case may be—awaited.
A man wearing a park ranger’s uniform walked out of the cabin to the front porch as she parked. “You must be Meredith MacCarthy,” he said as he came down the steps. “Let me help you with your gear. I’m Jake Geller. I’ll be doing the orientation today, and I’m your supervisor for the summer. The other volunteers are already inside.”
“Thanks.” Meredith studied him as he lifted her duffle bag out of the Jeep. The ranger appeared to be in his early to mid-forties. His almost black, short-cropped hair showed a touch of silver at the temples, and his brown eyes had laugh-lines at the corners. She grabbed the bags of groceries, her purse, and followed him into the cabin.
“You’ll find a landline phone in the kitchen. Cell service is iffy here in the mountains. If there’s an emergency, or if you have any questions, all the numbers you’ll need are mounted on the wall next to the phone, and no. Nobody delivers takeout or anything else to Garretsville.”
The cabin’s kitchen and living room were pretty much one large room with exposed log walls. Three closed doors on the west facing wall were probably bedrooms and a bathroom. A narrow staircase led to a small loft, and a fieldstone wood-burning fireplace flanked by narrow windows faced the North. An older couple sat together on one of the two couches, and a lanky young man, maybe nineteen or twenty, slouched in one the chairs. He had a mop of dark hair, and he wore purposefully torn jeans.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Meredith MacCarthy.”
“The history professor.” The older man nodded. “I’m John Schulte, and this is my wife Judy. This is our eleventh year volunteering in Garretsville.” He pointed to one of the three closed doors along the western wall. “You’ll bunk in the room at that end. The bathroom and laundry facilities are between the two bedrooms.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
The younger guy tore his gaze away from his phone to give her a slight wave. “I’m Oliver Webb, and this is my first year volunteering. I took the loft.”
“It’s nice to meet all of you. It’s my first time volunteering at any national park.” Her palms sweaty, she placed her groceries on a maple, fifties-style kitchen table that had lathe-turned legs and matching chairs. “I just need to put a few things in the fridge.”
Jake set her duffle on the floor and glanced at his watch. “We’ll start orientation as soon as you’re ready.”
“Help yourself to coffee if you’d like. I just made a pot,” Judy added. “Mugs are in the cabinet to the right of the sink.”
“I will, thanks. I also brought coffee to add to our supplies.” Meredith opened the fridge door. The top two shelves were already full, which left her the bottom shelf. As quickly as she could, she put her perishables away and shoved her meat and bags of frozen veggies into the already packed freezer. Her duffle could wait. After fixing herself a cup of coffee, she joined the others and took a seat.
“Great. Let’s get started.” Jake picked up a pile of folders from the coffee table. “Inside these folders you’ll find everything you need to know about the history of Garretsville and mining in the Garnet Mountains. You have a few days to learn enough to lead tours. We open for business on Tuesday, June second. Each of you will rotate through tour guiding, grounds and building maintenance, and manning the gift shop,” the ranger said as he
