She stuck a long, manicured finger into her mouth and pulled out a string of bright pink gum. After she twirled it around and around, she scraped it back into her mouth with her crooked teeth.
“Ranger Four, go ahead,” a deep voice came back through the speaker.
“Yeah, I got Rylie here to interview for the summer ranger position.”
Ranger Four came back on the radio. “Send her to the banquet hall. I’ll meet her there.”
“Copy. Office One clear.” When the mic locked back in its holster, she turned back to me. “See that building right across the way? Through those doors is the banquet hall. He’ll be with you shortly.”
“Thank you . . ?”
“Carmen. It’s Carmen.”
She held out her hand and shook mine as if she’d had one too many espressos that morning.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” She leaned in a bit closer. “You didn’t hear it from me, but if he asks you your favorite kind of music, say Christmas.”
I nodded. “Christmas music. Okay. Thanks.”
“Anytime. I hope they keep ya.”
I just smiled and turned to go, tugging my skirt down as I walked away. I hoped they kept me too.
The banquet hall was exactly as I’d expected: a large room with round tables and chairs dotting the hardwood floor. A door to my left likely led to a kitchen for caterers, and a small stage took up the far wall. The smell of freshly treated hardwood reminded me of the summer cabin my family had always rented.
I did my best to sit still and wait, but the waist of my pantyhose was starting to roll. I couldn’t wait to be out of my interview attire and back into my yoga pants.
I heard his steps before I saw his face, boots on the wooden boardwalk leading up to the door. When he walked into the room, he flashed a big, genuine smile.
The light gray button-down shirt and navy cargo pants that made up his uniform only slightly diminished his hulking muscular form. Even though I was tall for a girl, I’d probably only come up to his armpit. A badge shone on his chest and a radio, pepper spray, multi-tool, flashlight, and an asp—a telescoping baton—hung from his belt.
“You must be Rylie.”
I stood and shook his hand with the same firm grip my dad had shown me before my first job interview . . . as a babysitter.
“It’s nice to meet you—uh—Ranger Four?”
“Ben.” He chuckled.
“Ben.” Big Ben. Easy to remember.
He motioned for me to sit before clicking the mic on his shoulder. “This is Ranger Four. I’ll be off the radio for an interview. If you need me, call my cell.”
“Copy,” another male voice said. Ben snapped his radio off.
“Kyle—your direct supervisor—was supposed to be here for the interview, but he got held up in a meeting. So I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” His grin was slightly apologetic. “In your application, I noticed you were a volunteer firefighter and have your degree”—his face lit up into a wide smile—“in Parks and Recreation Management from Denver State.”
“That’s correct.” I returned the smile while trying to sit perched on the edge of the chair with my back as straight as possible.
“I went to Denver State too. Got the same degree. Don’t let anyone tell you it’s not a worthwhile one. It may not be wildlife management, but it’s still been helpful to me all these years later.”
“Good to know.” It was always good to have something in common with the interviewer, right?
“Tell me about your time as a firefighter.”
“I was with the Big Mountain Fire Department for about four years. Being a small town, we did more training than actual firefighting. Most of our job was assisting on medical calls and rescue situations, like ice rescue and vehicular accidents.”
Ben pulled a notepad from his left breast pocket and jotted down a few notes as I spoke. His knuckles were covered in the same salt and pepper hair that made up the stubble on his face. “I can imagine those probably got pretty gruesome. Would you say you’re well equipped to handle stressful situations?”
The time I’d been paged to a thirteen-car pile-up sprang to mind. Bodies lay strewn all over the ground, most of them dead. It had been me who rallied the other firefighters into action, set up triage. “I’d say I’m very well equipped.”
Ben nodded knowingly. “And how do you feel those interactions would help you in your position as a park ranger?”
I thought about this for a minute. I likely wouldn’t come across as many gruesome scenes as a park ranger. Images of fishermen with hooks in their hands came to mind. “I’m sure that as the first responders, rangers have to manage some of the same tasks I did when I was a firefighter. First aid, CPR, calling in additional help when needed. I’m trained in radio communication, and if I were able to stay on past the summer season, ice rescue.” I sucked in a breath and tried to steady my nerves. When I got nervous, words spewed from my mouth. Verbal vomit, my ex used to call it. I hated that term . . . and him.
“And how about the law enforcement side of the job?”
My insides clenched. Other than working with law enforcement while I was a firefighter, and sleeping with a cop for the past five years, I had absolutely no experience in that realm. “As I understand it, the only law enforcement required would be to enforce park rules, which would be no problem.”
“I see.” He made another note.
If only I could have seen what he was writing. I knotted my hands in my lap. I needed this job. “If I’m wrong about the job description, let me know.”
“No, that pretty much sums it up. We don’t do a great deal of what you would think of as real law enforcement. Not exactly equipped, if you know what I mean?” He looked down at his belt where an asp rested in place of a gun.
Ben asked a few more
