Mountain Town: Aiden
Part Two
By Ivory Harlow
Part II:
XII. Jack
Jack tried not to trip over his legs while walking to his cabin after the kiss.
Jack loathed not being in control. But he liked the chaos that she created in his life. He liked she was messy and playful and spontaneous and everything he was not. Everything from the pink streaks in her hair to the creamy orange colored nail polish on her toes that reminded him of dreamsicles turned Jack on.
She literally and figuratively added color to his life. Which, if the chemistry of that kiss was any indicator, was about to get much more colorful for the duration of their respective assignments at the park.
Jack had offered to show Aiden around the borderlands. He began planning an exclusive tour for two, one that would delight her and also inspire her work at the park. But he’d be lying if he said his motivations for spending time with her were entirely selfless and for the sake of art. But after that kiss he was pretty sure hers weren’t either…
XIII. Aiden
Jack met Aiden at her cabin the next morning. They walked down the mountain to the Ranger Station, where he had a huge, white truck with a National Park Service emblem on the side waiting.
“This is bigger than my apartment in New York City was,” Aiden giggled as he opened the passenger door and lifted her inside. “Why does anyone need a truck this big?”
“To pull a horse trailer,” He answered.
Aiden’s head shot to the side to look at him, jaw dropped. “We are going to pull a horse trailer?”
“There is a park visitors see and a park they don't see. The best way to show you the park they don’t see, is on the back of a horse.”
“You are taking me riding!” Aiden clapped her hands together.
“In the backcountry,” Jack confirmed.
They arrived at the stable a few minutes later. Jack backed the truck up to a horse trailer, which also bore the National Park emblem. He loaded saddles and tack in the back of the truck before retrieving two horses: a golden horse with a black nose, legs, mane and tail, and a chestnut horse with a red mane, and a white stripe on its face.
“Aiden, meet Renegade and Scarlet.”
“I’ve never ridden…” she told Jack with no trepidation. She took a step forward to stroke the horses necks “I’ve actually never been this close to one. I’ve only seen horses from afar, and in movies.”
“No problem,” he said nonchalantly. “Patrol horses are picked for their for good temperament, and receive a ton of training. They are patient and unspookable.”
“I hope I am as patient and unspookable…”
“You’ll ride scarlet. She is a sweetheart.” Jack kissed the horse’s nose. Scarlet nuzzled him affectionately.
“And just when I thought I didn’t have to compete for your affection.”
“Scarlet is a beauty, but doesn’t hold a candle to you.” Jack winked at her, then loaded the horses into the trailer. They drove on dirt roads for a half hour before Jack pulled off to the side, parked, and unloaded the horses.
He gave Aiden a quick horse riding 101: verbal commands, how to neck rein, and told her how to position her body in the saddle to save her back and butt. He offered a hand to help her mount Scarlet, but lifted her and set her in the saddle with no help from her own muscles.
“Scarlet is a Quarter Horse. The breed is excellent at conserving energy, but when you need her to kick it up a notch, she can spring into life. Keep that in mind when you're tapping your heels and telling her to go,” he warned as he mounted Renegade.
Against Jack’s advice, Aiden roused the horse with a “Cluck, cluck, giddy-up girl!” Aiden threw her head back laughing with wild abandon as they surged past Jack and Renegade.
A minute later Jack and his horse were racing across the desert basin, keeping pace next to them.
The basin was flat and low and offered an excellent view of the surrounding mountains. The creosote bushes had produced yellow buds that would open to small, velvety flowers.
They slowed to a leisurely walk as they entered a dry creek bed filled with layers of gravel, sand, silt, and clay.
“Does this ever fill with water?” Aiden asked.
“It serves as a wash during monsoon season, August through October, when the area gets all its annual rainfall- 12 to 16 inches.”
“A year?!”
“A year,” Jack confirmed.
“I think it rained every day the first month I was in Paris. It was wet and gloomy all the time,” Aiden frowned at the memory. “Of course I was working underground so, no harm, no fowl.”
“Where will you go when the Artist in Residence program ends in March? More globetrotting?” He asked.
“I don’t know,” Aiden leaned forward in the saddle as they began ascending a rocky hillside. “I was subletting an apartment in New York before I left for Paris, so I’m not bound to a lease. I put my stuff in storage before I left, so it’s not like I have somewhere to go back to in New York.”
“Where will you go when your 90 days are up in March?” Aiden asked.
“Wherever they send me.” Jack seemed indifferent.
Aiden gave him a skeptical look.
“What?”
“I have a hard time reconciling orderly Jack with Jack that doesn’t need to know what comes next,” Aiden said. “Maybe adventure is the tie that binds?” She considered.
“Orderly Jack seeks adventure saving kidnapped children, apprehending illegal immigrants, and confiscating drugs while random Jack seeks adventure, hoping from assignment to assignment at the drop of a hat.”
“I’m less adventurous than you make me out to be,” Jack admitted, worried Aiden wanted someone spontaneous, like herself.
“After a hectic shift, there is nothing I like better than going home to my quiet cabin in the woods and making orange chicken with scallions and mashed potatoes by scratch.”
“Not come to my rescue, put out fires, and politely ignore my mattress in the middle of the living room?”
“Why is your mattress in the living room, by the way?”
“The bedroom had the best natural light, so I moved the mattress to the living room to make studio space. The mattress fit through the door fine, but the metal bed frame was too wide and inflexible, so I left it leaning against te bedroom wall.”
“You should have asked me to set it up last night.”
“I was busy counting my blessings that you didn’t turn around when you saw me running out of my cabin with a burning pan.
“It was cute.”
“It was embarrassing.”
“I’ll fix your bed when we get home tonight,” Jack offered.
“Thank you.” Aiden said, the image of Jack fixing her bed making her blush.
The horses slowly climbed in elevation until they reached the top of a mesa. To the South, they saw the ruggedly wild mountains of Old Mexico. Aiden used her phone to snapshots of the dramatic vistas, appreciating the dark shading of being so close to the clouds to sketch later.
There were several side canyons. Jack pointed to them and said, “These canyons are less direct routes to and from Mexico, but there are caves for shelter and tinajas with water, so they are prime areas for illegal crossings and smuggling activities.”
“Whoa,” He instructed the horses. “We’ll head into the canyon and descend to the Rio.” He took the lead, pacing Renegade a few feet in front of Scarlet. Aiden gulped and followed. She would be scared shitless if it weren’t for Jack.
An hour later they were deep in a canyon. They stopped at a natural spring, to rest and water the horses. Jack pulled a picnic lunch out of his saddlebag while Aiden bent to study ferns emerging from cracks in the canyon walls. A few minutes later he called her over to eat hummus wraps with roasted red peppers and pistachios.
“No beef jerky and power bar? I should have known,” Aiden teased as she took a big bite of the wrap and sighed with pleasure.
“I did bring the Fruit Punch flavored Gatorade,” Jack handed her a bottle. “The combo of dry air, high elevation, and wind destroy your best efforts to stay hydrated with plain water.” He took a drink of the syrupy liquid.
“The U.S.- Mexico border is the deadliest border in the world. More migrants die crossing the border because they get sick and dehydrated than because of violence, accidents, or drowning in water crossings.”
“Oh, that must be awful, pulling dead bodies out of the desert,” Aiden winced.
“My team has retrieved five since I’ve been here. Ironically, January through February is actually a favorable time of year to attempt the trip, in terms of weather and exposure to the elements,” Jack told her. “About 1000 people die crossing the U.S. - Mexico border each year.”
Aiden shuttered. “I’ve seen so many images of Mexicans crossing the border illegally in the media, claiming they do it for the chance at a better life, but I can’t imagine the risk being worth the reward…”
“Most people crossing are not Mexican citizens. They are from Honduras, Guatemala, and El Salvador. There is significantly more economic, political, and social marginalization in those countries,” Jack educated her. “One man we took into custody said that the cartel would have killed him if he stayed, and would rather die trying to flee.”
“Are you defending the people you’re trying to stop from coming over Lt. Harris?” Aiden kept the tone light, but could tell from the tick in his brow that she was pushing buttons.
“As a law enforcement officer, it’s my job to uphold the law. Crossing the border illegally is a crime. Furthermore, criminals often hide in smuggled migrant groups trying to take advantage of the lack of infrastructure and law enforcement support in National Park and recreation lands like this.” He waved his hand over the landscape. “Convicted criminals, drug smugglers, human traffickers… I’ve seen it all.”
“Media reports don’t tell you that more people succeed than are detained crossing the border. Once they do, they find the streets are not paved with gold, opportunity isn’t everywhere. They end up taking dangerous under-the-table labor jobs, selling drugs, or turn to theft of prostitution to survive in America.”
Aiden popped a few pistachios in her mouth and chewed over what Jack said. The Artist in Residence program at the park was the first time she lived close enough to the border for border issues to not be out of sight and mind. Being here brought border problems to the surface. Like Jack, she could argue both sides: people wanting better quality life, and people wanting to preserve their own.
“What’s on your mind?” Jack asked, taking another swig of Gatorade and wiping the condensation from the side before resting the bottle on his thigh.
“How do you know you’re doing the morally right thing and not just the rules right thing?” “Like maybe those kids actually were better off with their father and their mother only had an advantage because she is an American citizen? How does that not keep you up at night? How do you make peace with that?”
“Well,” Jack shifted uncomfortably, “to be honest it keeps me up at night, sometimes.” Aiden thought about the late nights in her studio, peaking through the window, looking for signs of life in Jack’s cabin. “But I believe upholding the law is always the right thing to do…” He stated matter-of-fact.
“We all make peace in our own way,” Jack said tenderly. “You with a paintbrush, me with a badge.”
Aiden scoffed. “You make my work sound nobler than it is.”
“Art can be noble.” Jack swiped the crumbs off his lap and leaned back on a boulder, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin.
Aiden tried not to be distracted by his forearms, well-muscled, bare forearms… She forced herself to look away.
“That’s what I like about those sketches you said didn’t fit the narrative. They didn’t portray the people as second-class citizens. The young woman swept away dust because she is proud of the storefront. The old man watched over the village- an elder with a place of honor. The kids were having fun playing, not barefoot and dirty, skipping school because nobody cares about education ‘down there’.”
An idea for an AIR exhibit took focus. In it, instead of focusing on a single narrative, Aiden would show the eternal verities of the park: the value of life, justice, the concept of right and wrong, connection, pursuing peace, and the existence of a higher power in the natural world.
“What’s that smile?” Jack asked, leaning over, playfully bumping her with his shoulder.
“I think I am beginning to understand this place and what I’m here to do. Thank you for helping me see things I couldn’t.”
“Me too,” Jack said, smiling back at her.
XIV. Jack
“Why do I need a swimsuit?” Aiden asked the next morning when Jack showed up at her cabin door with two coffees in hand. He was an early riser, even on non-duty days. Judging by Aiden’s mussed hair and the fact she was wearing an oversized sleep t-shirt with a stretched out neck, he’d woke her.
“Because I thought you might be sore after a day in the saddle, and I am privy to the location of a hot spring in the park.”
“Secret hot springs?! In the Park?” Aiden’s sleepy eyes popped.
“Yes and yes.” Jack lived for the way her face lit up when she was surprised and excited.
Although there was no kiss afterwards, as there had been the night before last, Jack enjoyed every moment of yesterday horseback riding with Aiden. He was attracted to her from day one; he realized he liked her during their first dinner together, but yesterday when she questioned and challenged him, he respected her.
He knew she was attracted to him because of the kiss, but also because of the way she flirted and teased him. He was pretty sure she liked him, or Aiden would not have agreed to spending so much time with him. Though they didn’t agree on everything, she liked his integrity. What he didn’t know, and what was currently driving him crazy, was where that left them? Were they friends or on their way to being more than friends? Even if it was only for a few weeks while they were both at the park, Jack preferred to define the relationship so he knew where he stood.
“Swimsuit… What else do I need to bring?” she shouted over her shoulder as she walked to her bedroom turned studio to retrieve swimwear from the still unpacked suitcase on the closet floor. “Towels? Sunscreen? Water?”
“Already packed and ready to go,” Jack followed her to the studio, he pretended to look over scenes she’d sketched from yesterday’s ride and not notice Aiden shimmying into her bathing suit under the sleep shirt. She picked up a pair of holey jeans from the closet floor, pulled them on, then joined Jack to look at the images.
“This is my favorite,” she pulled forward a sketch of a man reclining on a rock, while two horses drank from a spring, their reflections foggy in the water.
“I’d like it better if you were in it too,” Jack tilted his head slightly. “I’d pay good money for it then. Too bad…”
Aiden's side bumped Jack playfully. He took a deep breath to slow the pace of his heart.
“You should pack your sketchbook.”
“You’ll be bored to death watching me work.”
“Nah. I’ll nap,” he offered.
The national park has 150 miles of roads, 50 of them unimproved dirt roads, only accessible with a high-clearance vehicle. Today, Jack drove a park Jeep 13 miles on the unimproved road, then pulled over and parked. They hiked another ½ mile to a place completely hidden from public view.
Aiden gasped when she saw the bedrock mortars and smoke-blackened cliffs surrounding the hot spring.
“Last month, I escorted a group of university researchers to this site to study and document the indigenous rock art? Want to see?”
Aiden nodded enthusiastically. They set their packs down by the spring and climbed the rock outcroppings to view the art. Jack offered Aiden his hand when the terrain was scramble or steep. He felt like he was leading her on a magical adventure. Judging by the awestruck look on her face, he’d knocked it out of the literal park with this activity.
“The Coahuiltecans were here before the Spanish explorers came in the mid-1700s,” Jack told her as he pointed out the vertical zig-zag designs, and central anthropomorphic figure wearing a horned headdress.
After scouting the rock art, they retreated to the hot spring for a dip. It was a sunny, 70 degree spring day. Aiden stripped down to her suit, discarding her clothes in a heap, while Jack removed his methodically and splayed them out over a dry rock. He picked hers up and made a big show of arranging them likewise.
“You can’t help yourself!” She waggled a finger at him.
“Does it bother you?” He asked.
“No. One of us has to be a responsible adult,” She giggled.
He smiled at her knowingly. “Your swimsuit matches your hair,” he focused on her lemon yellow and pink striped suit, to avoid gawking at her very nice body which was so much smaller and softer than his- perfect.
“I didn’t even plan it!” She said, clearly pleased with herself. “My hair was baby blue when I bought this suit.”
He watched Aiden test the water with the tip of her foot.
“The springs stay about 105 degrees year round,” he encouraged her.
“Oh. That’s nice!” She said as she eased her entire body into the water. Just her head and neck were visible. “I could have used this last night, after riding. I'm surprised my ass isn’t bruised black and blue.”
Jack’s eyebrows shot up.
“Totally worth it though. I’m not complaining,” she turned over and started swimming lap style back and forth across the pool.
Jack sat on a flat rock at the edge of the spring, dangling his calves into the water watching her swim while confirming there was not a single black or blue spot on said ass. She swam over to him.
“What makes a hot spring hot?” Aiden asked.
“Most people assume the source of the heat is inactive volcanoes, because volcanic activity formed the mountains in this area,” he grazed his hand over the surface of the water. “The source of heat is actually deep circulation of groundwater. The hot springs are surface expressions of a subterranean system that extends for miles and miles underground, extending deep into Mexico.”
“There are more hot springs in the park than this one?”
“There are five. This is the coolest in terms of temperature, others get up to 160 degrees, and also because it’s protected, because of the rock art. Park visitors need a permit to access it.”
“But we don’t…” Aiden said.
“I grant the permits, Aiden.”
“Oh.” She said pertly and swam over to his legs, which he was kicking gently through the water. She grabbed his feet and floated off them. He looked at her amused.
“How do you know so much about this place when you’ve only been here a month longer than I have?” She looked up at him with big green eyes that took on a glint of sunlight.
“I spend 50 hours a week out here on the job. More if you add exploring it off duty. Plus, I didn’t have any distractions until you got here,” he lifted her out of the water with his calves.
“I’m a distraction?”
“A great one.”
The afternoon passed slow and steady. Jack spread out a blanket in the shade of a cottonwood tree. They sat and ate the lunch he packed: chicken and avocado sandwiches on sourdough, and fruit with yogurt dip.
“Having you as a friend is like having a personal chef,” Aiden said as a piece of avocado fell out of her sandwich onto her thigh. She picked it up, between thumb and forefinger. Jack grabbed her hand and delivered the avocado to his mouth.
“At your service. Actually, the sourdough turned out more dense than I like.”
“You baked the bread from scratch?” Aiden asked.
“I taught myself how to make sourdough when I was stationed in San Francisco,” Jack explained, “No better place than the Presidio National Park to explore forests, beaches, master the art of sourdough.”
“I think the bread is perfect.”
I think you’re perfect, Jack thought. With the afternoon sun glinting in her eyes and highlighting the tiny freckles on her cheeks, he had to will himself to not profess his growing feelings for Aiden out loud.
After lunch, Jack snoozed in the shade while Aiden recreated the scenes in her sketchbook. After a couple hours, she was covered in charcoal pencil residue and her back ached from working on the ground.
She roused Jack from sleep for another dip in the hot spring, both fully submerged this time, circling each other like sharks. Jack felt a growing ache in his chest that there wouldn’t be enough time for him to show her everything he wanted to show her before their time in the park was up at the end of March. They wouldn’t have enough time together, period.
Aiden seemed to sense his heavy heart. She swam over to him, wrapped herself around him and floated there lazily.
They hiked back to the Jeep as the sun set. Jack offered his hand to Aiden over the center console and held hers on the way back to the ranger station. He didn’t release it until they’d walked the mile uphill and reached Aiden’s cabin.
“Same time tomorrow?” He asked in bidding her farewell, but Aiden reached out and took his hand again and continued walking towards his cabin.
XV. Aiden
Jack and Aiden’s cabins were identical. But she was keenly aware she did not wake up in her own living quarters for three reasons. First, she could smell dark roast coffee permeating the air before she even opened her eyes. Second, when she opened her eyes, the bedroom was spotless. Nary a canvas cluttered the space. Third, a handsome half-dressed man was leaning against the doorframe, watching her wake up.
“Good morning,” she yawned.
Jack tucked himself back in bed beside her and opened his arms. Aiden nested there, content.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the stark white walls. “What time is it?” She asked.
“9.”
“Sorry. That’s like noon for you.”
Jack’s chuckle confirmed she was right.
“I smell coffee.”
“Can I bring you some?”
“Yes, please.”
A minute later he returned with an oversized mug. He handed it to her and resumed his position as a human chair in the bed. She could get used to this. Too bad Jack went back to work tomorrow.
“What’s on the agenda today, Lieutenant Harris?” She took a sip and sighed appreciation.
“Ghost town.” He said muffled into her hair.
“There is a ghost town in the park?” Aiden was skeptical. “Is it legit? Real ghosts?”
“I can not promise you REAL ghosts…but there is a ghost town that used to support farmers and ranchers in the valley of the Rio.” Jack said as he smoothed Aiden’s hair with his chin.
“There is a frontier trading post, post office, saloon and jail, church and cemetery.”
“Sounds spooky.”
“I’ll keep you safe.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She turned her head to smile up at him.
“You relax while I get ready,” he shifted his weight to move off the mattress. Aiden groaned, she wasn’t ready to start the day, regardless how much she was eager for another adventure.
The town was called Valle Verde, before it was abandoned. The name translates to green valley, which is exactly what it looked like to Aiden when it came into view. A green band of reeds, willows, buttonbush and sand grape grew along the Rio. Progressing away from the river, lechuguilla, acacia, and Indian mallow covered the slopes along with various cacti. The prickly pear cacti were just beginning to bloom. Jack parked the truck, heaved both his and Aiden’s bag on his back and they hiked three miles into the valley, which brought them to the outskirts of the ghost town.
Valle Verde was established in the 1500s, when the land was still part of Mexico, and the Mexican Indian wars raged. The Spanish came to the area in the late 1600s. They built a mission church to convert the natives, then put them to work digging irrigation ditches from the Rio.
Unlike the hot springs, Valle Verde ghost town was known and open to the public. A couple of movies and a music video had used the site as a set in years past. Today, she and Jack were the only tourists, which was both eerie and magical.
They explored the town ruins before walking through the cemetery trying to find the oldest and newest graves. Few had headstones. Forged iron crosses and piles of rocks were more common. Relatives of the deceased or perhaps just sympathetic visitors had created altars with tiny statues of the Virgin Mary, tiny clay pitchers, tattered pieces of fabric, and prayer candles near the graves.
Aiden found a place to sit and sketch, while Jack wandered. She watched him upright relics that had blown or been knocked over. At one point, he pulled a multi-tool out of his pocket and began repairing the gate to the graveyard which was hanging on one hinge. He was what women called ‘a keeper.’ Strong, tall, handsome and smart, thoughtful and considerate, a good cook and great in bed. Aiden had never had a hard time finding men to date or hook up with, but now that she compared them to Jack Harris, could she really call them men?
Former lovers had branded her ‘independent’. Not in a bad way, it was just that she stayed emotionally unattached to people and places. But this thing with Jack felt…different. Aiden wondered if it was simply because their assignments at the park had imposed a timeline for their relationship and she naturally pushed back against anything that told her who, what, where or how long? Or were her feelings for him more than fleeting infatuation she was used to?
When Aiden could not stand watching without touching him another second, she tucked her sketchbook in her bag, went to him and took his arm. They walked through the limestone and adobe ruins of old homesteads. Aiden stopped to take pictures to capture specific angles and light on the beaten walls. Jack watched her work, like there was no better way to spend his well-deserved time off the clock.
“What’s on your mind?” This time she asked him the question he asked her when she got that glazed and faraway look in her eyes.
“Impermanence,” Jack answered truthfully. “I was thinking how the indigenous people, Spanish, the Mexicans, and early Texans just passed through this place, like we are now.”
His words hurt more than they should have. They were just passing through. In a few weeks, they’d depart the park and never see one another again.
Aiden stopped and pulled out her phone to take a picture of a bright yellow flower on a cluster of purple cactus. The flowers of the Opuntia macrocentra prickly pear cactus only last one day; blossoming with the warm morning sun and closing with the cool night air.
She decided right then and there that if they only had a few weeks together; she was going to maximize every minute with him. When their time at the park ended, she’d have plenty of wonderful memories to get through the regrets of not knowing what might have been.
XV. Jack
His first shift back after spending three days exploring the park and two nights with Aiden in his bed were torture. Fortunately, when he returned to his cabin after it, he found her standing on his porch with her still unpacked suitcase.
“I will not pretend I plan on sleeping in my cabin again,” Aiden told him. “Is this okay?” she nodded to the suitcase.
“Only if you let me unpack it, hang your clothes on proper hangers in the closet.” He took the suitcase from her in one hand and used the other to pull her face to his for a kiss.
In the weeks that followed, Aiden used her cabin as a studio only. They referred to Jack’s cabin as ‘home’. Aiden called their situation ‘deliciously domestic.’
Before Jack knew it was mid-march, two weeks out. Jack’s guys were already preparing to leave the park. They expected orders any day. Meanwhile, Jack fantasized scenarios where he and Aiden continued domestic bliss in life after the park. Maybe she could work wherever he got assigned next? Or he didn’t have to stay with the National Park Service. He could reach out to the law enforcement network he’d built over his 20 years service and find private sector work in any major city she wanted to live in.
Tonight was the reception for Aiden’s AIR exhibition. He knew she’d literally knock it out of the park, and be walking on air when he took her home afterwards. Maybe it’d be a good time to address the elephant in the room: did she want an after park life with him too?
His thoughts were interrupted when a call came over the radio:
‘Motion-activated camera caught suspicious activity, roughly a quarter-mile east from mile marker 118. White van on side of the road. Two armed men seen exiting van. Checked the cargo area then returned to driver and passenger seat. Van continued east. Assume armed and dangerous. 147.’
“Copy. 10-43.” Jack pinpointed the location on his GPS and turned his vehicle in pursuit.
A few minutes later he had the van in view. Jack sped up behind it and turned on his lights. At first, the van didn’t slow. He turned on sirens and watched as the van pulled to the side of the paved park road.
Jack was the first officer on the scene. He scanned the surroundings. They were in a desert basin, nowhere to run, and no cover to hide. The road had a slight tilt, putting the driver’s side of the car at a downhill and Jack at a disadvantage if the driver pulled a gun. Jack approached the passenger side instead.
“Good evening,” he called, announcing his presence.
“Nosotros no hablamos…” the passenger tried to convey that they did not speak English.
“¿Puedo ver sus papeles y registro?” Jack asked for their papers in a friendly tone.
Jack monitored the driver as he rummaged in the console for the paperwork. The men had not declared they were carrying firearms, which they were legally required to do when pulled over.
The driver passed paperwork to the passenger, who handed it to Jack. Their temporary Visas were current, as was the vehicle license and registration. He thought he heard something shift in the back of the van, but there was a partition behind the driver and passenger seat, blocking Jack’s view of the cargo area. “Solo dos viajando?” Jack held up two fingers and asked if just the two of them were visiting the United States?
“Si.” The driver said, looking straight ahead. The passenger looked nervous at his friend.
Jack handed the men back their papers. “Me gustaría mirar atrás y luego podrás seguir tu camino,” he asked to look in the back of the van before sending them on their way.
In a split second, the driver signaled to the passenger. The passenger pulled a handgun from under his seat and aimed at Jack. Jack ripped the door open and pulled the passenger from the van. He threw him on the ground, straddled and secured him in cuffs as the driver revved the engine into gear and sped away. Jack pulled his gun from his side holster. He shot twice at the van’s back tires. At this range, he might not blow a tire at this range, but a puncture would prolong the getaway, buying time for fellow officers to arrive.
Jack looked down at his arms stretched before him holding the gun and noticed the left side and sleeve of his uniform was saturated with blood. His adrenaline was so high he hadn’t felt the bullet blow through his shoulder.
Jack took a deep breath to stay focused. His shots at the tires effectively slowed the van, he saw flashing lights of a National Park vehicle pull in front of the van and form a barricade. Two of his guys jumped out, guns aimed at the driver.
Jack left the passenger cuffed, lying on his belly on the side of the road. He clutched his shoulder and ran to assist his guys. By the time he reached the van, they had apprehended the driver, no shots fired. One officer put him in cuffs; the other jogged to Jack.
“Lieutenant,” he said, pointing to Jack’s shoulder. Jack waved away his concern and wasted no time flinging open the van’s cargo door with his good arm. When he looked inside, six dirty and disheveled people huddled together, terrified.
Next thing he knew a caravan of vehicles: National Park, border patrol, emergency services, were speeding towards them. Jack was confused as the flashing lights got fuzzy and sirens faded as the vehicles drew near. He turned to ask his officer why, but couldn’t find the words. The officer reached out to catch something. Then everything went dark.
XVI. Aiden
Aiden decided to capstone her time at the park with a public exhibition. Park staff suggested a beautiful space to hold the event. The historic adobe fort had long, wide corridors enclosing a giant courtyard. The neutral Spanish tile floor and stark white walls were the perfect backdrop to showcase art. She scheduled the exhibition for March 18-31, her last two weeks at the park, and a formal opening reception the evening of the 18th, beginning at 6 p.m.
The day of the reception, Ranger Dalton and park staff helped transport and hang the pieces inside the historic fort. It was a shame she couldn’t display art in the gorgeous central courtyard because it did not offer protection from the weather elements or temperature control.
“You could stage drinks and hors d'oeuvre out here,” Geneen stopped by the fort to say ‘hello’ to Aiden and her husband on an official duty trip to the park. Geneen looked out of place standing in the courtyard in her Game Warden uniform, wearing a ballistics vest with a firearm on her hip. Aiden was used to seeing her in civilian clothes. It was the same, but different, with Jack. Seeing him come home in uniform after a day at work melted her. She wondered if he’d change before meeting her at the reception, or come straight from work?
“Oooo, we could zigzag string patio lights. Maybe put the bar in this corner and appetizer station here?” Geneen suggested.
Dalton rolled his eyes. “Forgive her. She’s still in wedding planning mode.”
“It’s a great idea!” Aiden said, ignoring Dalton.
They dug around in a park maintenance building for the lights, dusted them off, and strung them high above the courtyard. The caterers were arriving just as they finished. Geneen took the lead, instructing them where to set up, while Aiden did a final walk through the exhibit.
There were four corridors surrounding the courtyard. Aiden curated her pieces into four galleries that could standalone, but taken together, gave a full picture of the park. The first corridor held paintings, chalk and sketches of flora and fauna in the park: A cactus wren perched in its cholla nest, coyote crouched behind desert scrub, the infamous bluebonnet- thanks to the ultramarine paint, the flower’s color was spot on.
The second corridor was art from the Mexican village. Aiden painted the ferry crossing the shallow blue-green water of the Rio, the line of abode storefronts, and a vivid painting of the bustling Mercado. The ‘rejected’ sketches were no longer rejected. They were finished and framed.
The third corridor contained backcountry landscapes mostly from the day spent on horseback. Canyons and cliffs, mountains and mesas. She had black and white sketches from the barren desert basin: bleached bones, spiny ocotillo, clusters of candelilla.
The final corridor was art from the borderlands. Haunting images of the ghost town contrasted to the tranquil hot springs. Aiden painted muddy footprints on the bank of the Rio, and the tattered Mexican flag she saw flying over the village. As an afterthought she added sketches of the border patrol station and the park port-of-entry.
Aiden looked back at the exhibit and felt confident she’d shared her unique perspective of the park as a place that is both abundant and barren, protected and open, hostile and full of peace.
She pulled out her phone to check the time. 4:30 p.m. Time to catch a ride back to the cabin to shower and change. Aiden ordered a salmon colored silk dress that curved to her figure perfectly, while also looking professional. She styled it with strappy gold kitten heels for the occasion. Aiden was typically a chapstick and mascara girl, but tonight, she blew out her hair and wore a full face of make-up as if she was attending a posh event in NYC. She could not wait to see Jack tonight; rather, she couldn’t wait for Jack to see her.
XV. Aiden
The courtyard looked amazing after sunset. It was a clear, 65 degree evening. The patio lights cast a warm glow, welcoming art enthusiasts, park staff, local and regional media, and other attendees to drink and socialize after viewing the exhibit.
Public response was better than Aiden could have hoped for:
One attendee embraced Aiden and said, “It’s clear that you perceive nature with your inner being.”
Another told her, “Most artists reflect their ideology in their work, but your exhibit has depth- poses questions and invites the viewer to answer.”
Aiden had been anxious about the park superintendent and deputy superintendent’s response. The Superintendent called the exhibit “A compelling and open-minded examination.” The deputy thanked Aiden for, “helping us understand the world around us!”
A journalist from National Parks magazine interviewed Aiden about her Artist in Residence experience and the inspiration she found at the park. She tucked away in a quiet corner to record a quick interview with the local public radio host. Mountain Town Dispatch also attended the event for an article that would appear on tomorrow’s front page. They may not be ARTnews or Fine Art Connoisseur coverage she was used to, but Aiden was delighted the press was actively engaging with her work at the park.
Aiden scanned the steady stream of attendees for Jack all evening. Around 8 p.m., she snuck to the bathroom stall to check her phone for a message, but there was none.
The crowd cleared by 10:30 p.m. Only Aiden, a few catering staff, and the clean-up crew remained. The thrill of a successful event didn’t lessen her disappointment that Jack did not show. She was used to being let down by lovers, but she thought Jack was different, he had been so thoughtful and attentive throughout the duration of their relationship. Perhaps during this wind-down stage of the last two weeks, his priorities shifted.
Aiden offered to help the caterers and staff with clean-up. When they declined, she thanked everyone for helping to make the evening memorable. Dalton and Geneen had gone home hours ago, so Aiden was surprised to see his Bronco whip into the parking lot as she exited the fort. She gave a friendly wave, but her smile faded when she saw Dalton’s grave face.
“There’s been an incident,” Dalton said, frowning.
She immediately knew something bad had happened, and that it involved Jack. “Is he okay?!
“He’s…stable. At Mountain Town Regional Hospital. Hop in. I’ll take you to him.”
During the 45 minute drive to the hospital, Dalton explained that Jack was shot in the shoulder at close range.
“Geneen and I were at home in Mountain Town when we heard. We went straight to the hospital. By the time we got there, Jack was out of surgery; in the recovery ICU. He was still loopy from anesthesia, but asked for you,” Dalton informed her, “Demanded you really,” he chuckled. “I hightailed it back to the park. Geneen is still at the hospital.”
Aiden’s eyes brimmed with tears. “He was supposed to come tonight. I…was feeling sorry for myself that he didn’t.” She wiped the tears from her eyes.
“The doctor said he’s going to be fine,” Dalton comforted her. “He lost a lot of blood and was unconscious for what she said was a ‘concerning’ amount of time, but Jack is superhuman. Even the doc said so. He tried to refuse painkillers after surgery because he doesn’t like ‘feeling out of control.”
They shared a knowing look.
When they arrived at the hospital Geneen was waiting outside of the ICU. “The nurse said only one visitor back at a time,” she told Aiden as she embraced her in a hug. “Jack’s in suite C.”
Aiden’s kitten heels clicked on the polished linoleum as she navigated the dim hall to Jack’s room. Nurses buzzed about. One stopped her with a gentle hand and a warm smile.
“You must be Aiden. He’s been asking for you. Right in here, honey.” The motherly nurse escorted Aiden to the room.
“You got yourself a brave man,” she said.
Aiden wasn’t sure how much longer Jack would be ‘her’ man, but she knew at that moment that she wanted him to be for longer than the remaining two week timeline.
She entered Jack’s suite. He looked like a faded gray version of himself. There were tubes coming from his nose and arm and wires from his chest. Various machines beeped, monitoring his pulse and oxygen. She took a careful step towards him, wanting to jump onto him and also not to disturb his rest.
He opened his eyes. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said, swiping at the tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
He tapped the side of his bed with his fingers, inviting her to come closer.
“You look so beautiful,” he ran his hand down her arm lovingly.
Aiden laughed through her tears. “You do not.”
Jack huffed, faking offense. “Sorry I missed the exhibit,” he looked pained.
“Jack, you got shot,” Aiden said, “that’s a good excuse.”
“Um, hmm,” he said, smoothing a pink strand of hair into her blonde hair. “Tell me everything.”
And when he looked into her eyes, she did.
XVI. Jack
In the realm of gunshot wounds, Jack was lucky. The bullet breezed through his left shoulder, causing soft tissue and muscle damage, but missing major organs and causing minimal bone injury. The ample blood loss was because of the close range of the shot and proximity to his heart.
The doctors kept Jack in the hospital for a week after surgery and blood transfusions. Jack convinced them he didn’t need painkillers after a couple days, but he was still tethered to an IV rack of antibiotics and fluids.
Aiden stayed at Dalton and Geneen’s home in Mountain Town to be closer to the hospital. She spent every day by his side. They used the time to talk about where they might go next. Jack offered to leave the National Park Service and find work wherever she wanted to live. Aiden told him it wasn’t necessary, she could work wherever he was stationed.
Jack’s supervisor flew in for an impromptu visit at the end of the week. He told Jack, after a stunt like that, Jack could take his pick of duty stations after taking all the time he needed for rest and rehabilitation. Together, Jack and Aiden decided a permanent position at the New York Field Office would work for both of them. Jack would have an opportunity to advance his career, investigating and detaining persons suspected of committing offenses against the United States. Aiden already had art connections in New York, and though the ‘City that Never Sleeps’ would be a change after low-key life in the park, they were eager for their next adventure together.
The End
Listen to Aiden on the Mountain Town Podcast