Page 30 of Trusting the Grumpy Mountain Man
"The program has significant merits that need to be considered alongside the violations," I say, keeping my voice steady despite my racing heart. "The behavioral improvements alone justify?—"
"That's not what the department sent you to evaluate." Margaret cuts me off. "We need documentation of safety violations, not a glowing endorsement of some mountain man's pet project."
I flinch at her dismissive tone. "I'm being thorough and objective, which is my job."
"Your job is to follow directives." The threat beneath her words is clear. "This promotion opportunity requires team players who understand department priorities."
I grip the phone tighter, watching a hawk circle lazily overhead. Just five days ago, I would have agreed with Margaret without hesitation. Now everything looks different.
"I've documented all seventeen regulatory violations," I tell her. "But I can't in good conscience recommend termination when the program shows such positive outcomes."
"Those 'positive outcomes' aren't quantifiable by department standards." Her sigh crackles through the connection. "Riley, I mentored you because I saw potential. Don't throw away your career on some wilderness program run by an unqualified former firefighter."
The description of Jax as "unqualified" ignites something protective in me. "His qualifications are evident in the results. These kids?—"
"Are not your concern beyond safety verification." Margaret's voice hardens. "I need your final report by end of day. With a recommendation for termination based on critical safety violations. Is that clear?"
The ultimatum is insulting. She’s asking me to choose between my career trajectory versus my professional integrity.
"I understand what you're asking," I say carefully.
"Good. I expected this assignment might be challenging for someone at your experience level. That's why I'm being explicit about expectations." Her tone softens slightly. "You have tremendous potential, Riley. Don't let misplaced sympathies derail your future."
After we disconnect, I stand motionless on the porch, the phone heavy in my hand. Inside the cabin, Jax is preparing for today's activities, unaware that my supervisor is actively working to destroy everything he's built.
Last night was perfect. Cooking dinner in his kitchen. Talking for hours before falling into bed together. Waking thismorning wrapped in his arms, feeling safer and more content than I've ever felt in my life.
Now reality intrudes, harsh and uncompromising.
I go back inside, finding Jax at the desk reviewing lesson plans. He looks up with a smile that falters when he sees my expression.
"What happened?" He sets down his papers, immediately alert.
"My supervisor called about my preliminary report." I set the phone down, buying time to organize my thoughts. "She was... displeased."
"Because you didn't recommend shutting us down." It's not a question.
"She only cares about the violations, not the successes." I sink into the chair across from him. "She wants me to revise my recommendation by end of day."
Something shutters in his expression. "And will you?"
"I don't know." The admission costs me. "This promotion is everything I've worked toward for three years."
He stands, putting distance between us. "And we're just a checkpoint on your career path."
"That's not fair." I rise too, hating the physical and emotional space opening between us. "I've been completely honest about the program's merits in my report."
"But when pushed, you'll fold." His voice carries no accusation, just a resigned certainty that hurts worse than anger would. "You'll choose your career over these kids."
"I didn't say that." Frustration builds in my chest. "I'm trying to find a solution that works for everyone."
"There isn't one." He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I've come to recognize as stress. "Either you stand by your evaluation or you don't. Either the program continues or it doesn't."
"It's more complicated than that."
"No, it's exactly that simple." His eyes hold mine, challenging. "What happens to Darius if this program closes? Or Mia? Where do they go?"
"Back to traditional programs." The words taste sour in my mouth.
