The Adventures of Ranger Ramona Ch. 02

CHAPTER ONE

The first fallen leaves were swirling in the road as Ramona and Grant drove to Ten Pines Camp.

"Thanks for coming with me," Ramona said, sipping coffee in the passenger seat, "I'm sure you can find better ways to spend your day off."

"No, I'm excited about it," he said.

Ramona had promised Molly Baker, the Ten Pines head councilor, that she would help with cleaning up the damage the forest fire had inflicted on the camp. She was happy to help, but she had another motivation as well. She thought that she had detected a little spark of interest from her, and she wanted to know if it was real, or if she had imagined it.

Isabel was gone for the winter, Aaron was mad at her, maybe for good, and Grant-well, she wasn't sure where she stood with him, so she was pleased he had accepted her invitation to go out to the camp with her.

She found Molly attractive, with her curly red hair and sprinkling of freckles. Unfortunately, as soon as the camp repairs were completed, she'd be leaving for the winter, so if anything was going to happen between them, it would have to happen soon.

Grant drove past the camp road, turned around and found it on the second pass. When they arrived at the campgrounds, they were surprised to see that at least twenty other people were already there, working in teams of twos and threes, raking up the singed brush or cleaning up the debris of the burnt outbuildings. About a third were wearing t-shirts bearing the camp logo, but most were volunteers from the community.

As she stepped from the car, Ramona heard someone call her name.

A young man approached her, flashing a big, toothy grin. He looked vaguely familiar.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he asked her.

Ramona shook her head. "Sorry, no," she said.

"That's okay, you only saw me in the dark." He patted himself on the chest. "I'm Mike. From the state park? I'm the one who helped you the night you rescued the little girl."

Ramona stopped herself from telling him that she hadn't really rescued the girl; she'd been safely sleeping in the back of a car, but she realized that he felt a lot of pride in his role that night.

"Sure," she said with a smile, "I remember you, you were a great help."

He bobbed his head up and down, still sporting that big grin. "Yeah, well, I talked to Molly and I think I'm going to work here next year."

"That's great, Mike."

"Yeah. But I wanted to ask you. I'm thinking about what to do after I graduated, and I was wondering, is there, like some special school you go to if you want to be a ranger?"

"No, you can go to community college and get an associates degree in forestry or law enforcement. I got both."

"Cool. Well, I'm gonna think about it. Thanks."

"Looks like you made quite an impression," Grant said as Mike walked away.

"I guess so," Ramona said. Good thing the kid didn't hear Lt. Bebb reaming me out that night, she thought.

They found Molly instructing the crew that was piling debris in a dumpster. Her eyes seemed to light up when she saw Ramona, and she rushed to her, putting her hands on her shoulders and kissing her cheek. Ramona thought her lips lingered just a little too long to be mere friendliness.

Ramona introduced Molly to Grant, and the two of them shook hands.

"How can we help?" Grant asked.

"You good and strong?" Molly asked.

Grant nodded. "I lift boxes all day."

"Good. We could use another strong man to help haul those bigger pieces of lumber from the outhouse that collapsed."

"I'm on it," he said. Molly pointed out to him the other members of the outhouse crew, and he went to joint them.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Molly asked Ramona. She was still smiling, but Ramona could see frown lines on her forehead.

"No, just a really good friend," she responded. The tension drained from Molly's face.

"Come on," she said, "You can give me a hand in the laundry. I have washed all the bedding, and I mean, about twenty loads of sheets and blankets and pillowcases. Now we have to fold them and store them away."

"What about the mattresses and pillows?" Ramona asked as they walked to the laundry.

"Insurance will pay for new."

The laundry was in a yellow clapboard building, set off a short distance from the ring of cabins that comprised the main part of the camp. When they entered, Ramona saw a long table in the middle of the room, piled high with tangled linens. More were piled in a cart at the far end.

Molly picked up a pillowcase and held it to her face. "Still smells a little smoky," she said, dropping it back on the pile.

"Everything still smells a little smoky to me," Ramona replied.

"Well, my god, you were right in it!"

Ramona blushed. She picked up a pillowcase and folded it. Molly put her hand on her shoulder.

"You really don't see it, do you?" she asked. "Ramona, you're a heroine, an inspiration."

"I just try to do the best I can," Ramona said, shaking her head. Molly leaned closer and pulled gently on Ramona's shoulder until they were facing each other.

"Well, I'd say that your best is pretty good," she said. The two of them looked into each others eyes, only inches apart. Ramona was still unsure that she was reading Molly's intentions correctly, so she hesitated, and after a few seconds, Molly turned away.

"Well, we best get to work," she said. She stepped around the table and the two of them began folding the pillowcases, making small talk as they worked.

Molly told Ramona the history of Ten Pines camp; that her grandfather had founded it with a GI loan after serving in the Pacific in World War Two, her father had managed it for more than forty years, and she had taken it over when he had finally retired a few years ago.

"I grew up here," she said, "At least in the summers. It's not really like a job, it's like bringing guests into my home."

"What do you do the rest of the year?"

"I have an apartment and business down in Savannah."

"What sort of business?"

"You'll probably laugh...a new age spiritual book store. Plus, we sell candles, incense, tarot cards, stuff like that. I do tarot readings, I should do yours sometime. I mean, I don't know what sort of belief system you have..."

"I'm kind of a pagan, I guess."

"Of course you are," Molly said, grinning, "A worshipper of nature."

"So, what happens to the bookstore while you are up here?"

Molly hesitated. "It's sort of complicated..."

"What isn't?"

"I have a partner, Well, an ex-partner partner."

"Yeah, that sounds complicated."

"My girlfriend at the time and I started the store. And, well, we kind of fell apart as a couple, but remained friends and business partners."

Ramona could not help but smile when she heard Molly say "girlfriend." Her instincts had been right.

"I saw that," Molly said.

"Saw what?"

"That's little grin when I mentioned having a girlfriend. I have very good gaydar."

Ramona chuckled. "A lot of people assume that I am a lesbian because I'm a ranger."

Molly leaned across the table. "And are you?"

Ramona shook her head. "I don't like to define myself," she said, "But if I had to, I would call myself a polyamorous bisexual."

"Now, that really sounds complicated."

"Oh, yeah," Ramona agreed.

They folded the last of the pillowcases and started on the top sheets, working together across the table. As they worked, their hands would touch. On the third sheet, Molly ran her fingers across Ramona's palm.

She leaned her elbows on the table and said, "You know, I have had the biggest crush on you since you first came into the camp"

"I kind of had the feeling you did."

They gazed at each other for a long moment, then Ramona bent down and their lips met in a brief kiss. They pulled back, looked into each others eyes for a few seconds, then picked up and folded the next sheet.

When they finished the top sheets, Molly wrapped her arms around the tangle of fitted sheets in the cart and dumped them on the table.

"I hate trying to fold these things," Ramona said.

"Me too. Would we be terribly irresponsible if we just stuffed them all in garbage bags for the winter?"

"Do you think that the kids next summer will be upset that their sheets are a little wrinkled?"

"They wouldn't care if they didn't have sheets at all."

They crammed the fitted sheets into trash bags and put them on the floor of the storage closet.

"Just the blankets left," Molly said. "Best if you come around to this side of the table."

She pulled a blanket from the tangle on the table. Ramona grabbed one end and, holding it by the corners, they spread it between them. They stepped toward each other and brought the corners together. Ramona placed her hands over Molly's and once again, they kissed. Ramona let go of the blanket, then Molly did as well, and it fell to the floor at their feet. They turned, with Molly's back to the table. As Ramona moved closer, she nearly tripped over the blanket and stooped to pick it up. She tossed it aside, and as she rose to her feet, ran her hands up the sides of Molly's legs and rested them on her hips. She kissed the hollow place under her throat, then the soft bottom of her chin, and then her lips.

Molly slipped her tongue into Ramona's mouth and raised her left leg, wrapping it around Ramona's. She grasped Ramona's ass with both hands, and pulled her tightly against her, pressing her right thigh firmly into the crotch of her jeans.

Ramona rocked on Molly's leg as they continued to kiss. Molly lifted herself on to the edge of the table. Ramona pressed her own leg tightly between Molly's. Molly laid back in the pile of blankets and pulled Ramona tighter still. They began to writhe against each other, but were interrupted by a voice from outside the laundry.

"Molly! Hey Molly! We need some guidance."

Molly sat up and ran her fingers through her disheveled hair. Ramona took a step back, held Molly's hands and helped her to her feet. They kissed quickly and went to the door.

One of the camp counselors stood just outside, with a handful of new volunteers. One of them was Hank McLellan. Hank gave Ramona a wave when he saw her.

"We got more helpers," the counselor said, "but we are not sure what to have them do. We are pretty nearly done."

"That's alright," Molly said, "They are welcome to stay for the bonfire."

She turned to Ramona. "I'm going to have to supervise this," she said, "Can you grab a helper and finish the blankets?"

"Sure," Ramona said. "Mister McLellan, can you give me a hand in the laundry?"

Hank nodded and stepped forward. Molly squeezed Ramona's shoulder. "Thanks," she said, "We'll talk later."

Ramona led Hank into the laundry and showed him how to fold the blankets.

Once they had gotten into the rhythm of the job, Hank said, "You know, Ranger Greentree, that fire did a disruption on the local wildlife."

"I imagine it did."

"Stirred up their patterns, their feeding and the like. So maybe it's a good time to keep your eyes and ears open. I'm telling you, them wolves are out there."

"I know they are."

Hank stood, holding up his end of a blanket and looking dumbfounded.

"You know?"

"I heard them."

"Jeezum crow, Ranger Greentree, did you tell Piney? Did you report it to Fish and Wildlife?"

"Nope, and I'm not going to."

Hank sputtered. "Why the hell not? You're the only one who believed me."

"I didn't believe you, Mister McLellan. I am relying on the evidence of my own senses. Now, let me ask you something."

"Okay."

"What will happen if I report it? And if they believe me, which they probably won't?"

She didn't add that she'd been half drunk when she heard the wolves howling.

"Well, I guess they'd...well, heck, I don't know."

"I'll tell you. Federal endangered species regulations would kick in. State game management regulations would come into effect, too. Conservationists and environmentalists from all over would start calling for more protections for them."

"That all sounds good to me."

"You think it's going to sound good to the logging companies? You think it's going to sound good to the developer that wants to build that resort up at Micmac Lake?"

"I suppose not."

"What about the farmers who keep cattle and sheep and goats? Or that new one raising alpacas out on the Greenville Road?"

"I think I see where you're going with this."

"What do you think is going to happen to those wolves the first time a farmer loses a sheep or a calf?"

Hank frowned and muttered something under his breath, but then he looked at Ramona and grinned. "But I was right."

"Yeah, you were." She held out her hand for a fist bump, but he stared at her with a puzzled expression, so she dropped it and they finished folding the blankets.

When they emerged from the laundry, they saw that all the combustible debris had been piled into a rough pyramid and set ablaze. The flames were just beginning to climb up the sides of the stack.

"Looks like they are putting on a spread," Hank said, smiling. A long table had been set up and covered with bowls of chips and pretzels, stacks of hot dogs and buns and bags of marshmallows. Several of the helpers were already holding long forks or sharpened sticks near the fire, toasting marshmallows or roasting dogs.

Bottles of Shipyard Ale floated in ice water in a big metal washtub at the end of the table. Hank fished out two, twisted off the caps and handed one to Ramona.

"What should we toast to, Ranger Greentree?'

Ramona thought for a second, then tapped her bottle against his, "To canis lupus," she said.

Hank's brow knotted, then a look of understanding crossed his face. He looked around furtively, they, quietly went, "Awwooo." Ramona laughed, they clinked glass again, and took a drink.

They sat down on a wooden bench near the fire. A moment later, Grant joined them, sitting next to Ramona and draping his arm over her shoulder.

"So, what were you and Molly up to?" he asked.

Ramona repressed a snicker. "Folding the bedding."

"That sounds like fun."

"The job, or just the word 'bedding'?"

Grant made a snorting sound. "Hey, I'm going to get a hot dog. You want one?"

"Sure, but I think you just want to watch me eat it."

Hank stood up. "Alright," he said, "I'm going to mosey and leave you youngsters to your flirting."

"Is that what we are doing?" Grant asked as Hank walked away, "Flirting?"

"It's what I was doing, I'm not sure about you."

"I'm not good at it."

Ramona wrapped her arm around him. "Believe me, I know."

"Hey," he said, straightening his back, "I'm good at lots of other things."

"Getting a girl a hot dog not being one of them."

"Oh!" Grant jumped up and went to the table. He skewered two hot dogs on a long metal fork and held them near the fire. When they were well roasted, he took them back to the table and slipped them into buns.

"What do you want on yours?" he called to Ramona.

"Mustard and relish."

"You want ketchup?"

"Hell, no," she scoffed, "What are you, from New York?"

He frowned. "I'm from Portland."

"Close enough," she muttered.

Grant sat back down beside her and gave her the hot dog. She wrapped her lips around the end, looked him in the eye and winked.

"That does look...um, nice," he said, blushing.

Ramona bit off an inch, chewed and swallowed it, then said, "That's what happens if you're not careful."

"I'll be careful."

Molly joined them on the bench.

"I really want to thank you guys for coming out to help today," she told them.

"Our pleasure," Grant said.

"Listen, Ramona," Molly said, taking her hand, "I just hope, well, I realized, maybe it was a little insensitive having a bonfire. You know, you almost got burned up and all that."

Ramona laughed. "It's alright, no worries."

They hugged, and Molly said, "Okay, well, I'll be hanging around for a few more days if you want to stop by and say hi."

Ramona smiled. Say hi. "Thanks, I probably will."

Molly stood and shook Grant's hand. "Nice meeting you," she said, "Thanks again."

Grant looked at Ramona with one eyebrow cocked.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied, shrugging and shaking his head.

She knew what he was thinking. Fine, she mused, let his imagination run wild.

They watched Molly make her way around the fire, thanking each helper. People were beginning to drift away.

"Maybe we ought to go, too," Ramona suggested, "It seems like there ought to be some time for just the camp people."

"Yeah, you're right," Grant said. He stood, held out his hand and helped Ramona to her feet.

It was dark outside the circle of firelight. Grant took out his cell phone and turned on the flashlight. He took Ramona by the arm as they walked to his car.

"I guess I'm not much of an outdoorsman," he said, "lighting the path with my phone. You've probably got one of those great big cop flashlights, don't you?"

"Heavy duty Maglite, baby."

"I thought so."

"Handy tool. You can knock out a bear with that thing."

They reached the car and Grant opened Ramona's door for her. "You may not be an outdoorsman," she said, "But you are a gentleman." When he came around and got in the drivers seat, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

As they drove down the dark country roads, Ramona looked at Grant's face in the glow of the dashboard lights. She felt a great deal of affection for him. He was sweet, considerate and fun to be around. Why did he have to complicate things by being in love with her?

"I'm really glad you came with me today, Grant," she said, "I hope you had a good time."

He smiled and said, "I don't think I had as good a time as you did."

"What do you mean?" she asked, feeling a rising defensiveness.

"I mean, I could sense that there is something going on with you and Molly. And you know what? I'm fine with that. I mean, I suppose it doesn't matter if I am or not, but I am."

Ramona looked out the side window for a minute, then said, "It does matter."

"Yeah?"

"Of course it does. I think you're great and I never want to hurt you. I liked the way things were between us before..."

"Before I told you I love you."

"Yes."

"Well, I can't take it back. I don't want to take it back."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

"So what are we? Friends? Something more than friends? I hate when people say friends with benefits."

"Fuck buddies?"

Grant laughed. "That gets right to the point."

Ramona reached across the console, ran her hand up Grant's leg and squeezed his crotch. "So, you want to be my fuck buddy?"

The car veered momentarily, then Grant grinned and said, "It would, literally, be my pleasure."

"Well, not just yours," Ramona said. She slipped her shoulder belt over her head, shifted in her seat to face Grant, and tugged his belt loose. He put his foot on the brake.

"Should I pull over?" he asked.

"It's up to you," she replied as she pulled down his zipper and reached inside.

Grant slowed the car, but kept driving. Ramona leaned down further.

"You could put your seat back a bit," she told him.

He pulled the lever and pushed his seat back several inches. Ramona lowered her head into his lap. She yanked on his cock and it popped free.

"Have you ever had anyone give you road head?" she asked.

"Is that what you call it? No, I haven't."

"Well, pay attention to your driving. Pull over if you have to."

She kissed the underside of his shaft, up and down, then pursed her lips around the head and gently sucked, while running the tip of her tongue back and forth along his slit.

Grant moaned approvingly, and Ramona took more of his cock into her mouth. She bobbed up and down on it, and after a few minutes, realized that she was sucking in sync with the rhythm of the car's tires on the pavement. It created an almost hypnotic effect, and she became lost in it, thinking of nothing but the sound of the tires and the feeling of the cock filling her mouth.