Tamarack River Ghost: A Novel

13. Dinner Date

77 Dinner Date 13 A conservation warden’s job can be a lonely one, even more so for a young woman in a place where gender roles have been carefully defined and agreed on for generations. Ames County was one of those places. Men did their work; women did their work. When the lines began blurring, eyebrows lifted and people raised questions. For some jobs it didn’t matter much. People generally accepted women as doctors, foresters, even attorneys and veterinarians, but female firefighters and police officers took some getting used to, especially for the old timers. And whoever heard of a lady conservation warden? After all, weren’t conservation wardens supposed to enforce the game laws of the state, and weren’t most of the hunters and fishermen men? How could a woman, especially one as petite as Natalie, put the collar on a 250-pound guy who’d just shot a deer out of season? One flick of the big guy’s muscular arm, and she’d be on the ground with a bloody nose and he’d be on his way. Yet, slowly, Natalie had gained the respect of Ames County citizens, especially those who had a history of bending and occasionally breaking a game law or two. As a result of her hard work, though, and also because so much of what she did amounted to late-night stakeouts, weekend patrols, and unexpected circumstances—such as a car slamming into a deer at midnight, killing three of its occupants—her free time was not predictable. Thus, she essentially had no social life. This was clearly the downside of her job. Living in the Willow River community didn’t help matters, either. Not many single young people lived in this town of just over three thousand people. When they graduated from Willow River High School, most young people left the community either for college or to find work in the 78 Dinner Date Fox River Valley—Oshkosh, Neenah-Menasha, Appleton, Green Bay. Or in Milwaukee, Madison, or maybe La Crosse or Eau Claire, on the other side of the state. A few stayed behind to farm with their parents, work in the forestry business, or become part of the small but steady tourist business that tripled the county’s population during the summer months. And a handful, like Josh Wittmore, left for a few years and returned. Josh’s phone jingled twice before he picked it up. “Farm Country News, Josh Wittmore.” “This is Natalie Karlsen. You got a minute?” “Sure,” answered Josh, warily. He remembered her accusing him of tipping off Dan Burman, and he’d decided to avoid her if possible. “I’d like to take you out to dinner,” she said. “What?” Josh’s voice must have surely sounded his surprise at the invitation . All he could think of to say was, “Why?” “Because I owe you a better apology than I gave you.” Josh was silent, speechless. In his mind’s eye, all he saw was a very attractive young woman in a uniform and all wrapped up in her job. He could think of no response. “Well, what do you say?” she pressed. Her voice was pleasant and smooth. “When?” he finally blurted. Why was he spending any time talking to this woman who had powers of arrest and sidearm training? He didn’t know she was more than just competent with her ever-present .40 caliber Glock—she had recently won a pistol-shooting contest with it. “How about Saturday night? I’ll pick you up at 6:00.” “OK,” Josh muttered. This woman surely knew how to take control of a situation. He wondered if this was her natural tendency or if she was trained this way. “Where do you live?” she asked quietly. “Oh, yes. Where do I live? Right.” Josh was clearly flustered. He gave her the street name and the number of his apartment in the Willow River Manor complex. 79 Dinner Date “I know right where it is. See you at 6:00,” Natalie said. Josh sat holding the phone in his hand. What is it with this woman? he thought. His defenses once more came into focus—What does she want with me? What motive does she have for taking a newspaper reporter out to dinner? He didn’t even ask her where they were going and how much he should dress up...