The Forest Ranger's Christmas

Chapter Four

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Clint gripped the steering wheel, still convinced this was a bad idea. He never should have invited Josie and Frank on this tree-cutting excursion. Oh, Frank was just fine. No problem. But Josie was a different matter entirely. Mainly because of what she made him feel whenever she was around. An uneasy premonition he didn’t understand.

He parked his truck in the Rushtons’ driveway and got out. Frank came from the garage packing a skimpy hacksaw, a buoyant grin deepening the creases on his face. Josie walked beside him, wearing a pair of earmuffs and a black coat with a white fur collar. They framed her delicate face perfectly.

His gaze lowered to her canvas tennis shoes. Not very practical for slogging through snow. “I’m afraid those little shoes won’t provide much protection for you up in the mountains.”

She gave a tepid smile. “They’re all I brought with me. Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

She turned away and he let the subject drop.

Gracie scrambled out of the truck and ran to hug Frank.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead.

“What’s that for, Frank?” Clint pointed at the saw. Anything to jerk his focus away from Josie.

“Cutting trees, of course,” he said.

Clint leaned against the right front fender of his truck and forced himself not to feast his eyes on Josie. Yes, he was physically attracted to her. He was a man, after all. But he knew his fascination with her was so much more. Whenever she was near, he felt a haunting familiarity. As though he knew her from some long-lost memory. A connecting of their souls. Irrefutable, and yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on why or how. Something about her touched him deep inside and he felt drawn to her in a strangely powerful way. Her clean, bouncing hair, her expressive blue eyes filled with intelligence and...

Barriers.

No doubt about it. He didn’t like this attraction he felt. Yet he couldn’t seem to help it. After Karen’s death, he’d made a promise to himself and his infant daughter that he’d never expose either of them to that kind of hurt again. Losing Karen was a heartbreak he just couldn’t let go of. And so there’d be no other woman in his life. No more romance for him.

No more heartbreak.

He gave a nervous chuckle, thinking Frank’s hacksaw wouldn’t be of much use, except for removing slender branches from the trees. “You mean to tell me you used that wimpy saw to cut down all those trees you had here at your place?”

Frank tossed him a teasing frown as he spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “No, I used my chain saw for that, but I ain’t about to give you any more evidence to use against me, Ranger.”

Clint laughed, noticing their exchange brought a wry smile to Josie’s lips. It was good they could now find humor in the tree permit violation. But that didn’t ease his discomfort around her. Not one bit.

They piled into his truck and set off. The ride up to Crawford Mountain took fewer than forty minutes. The girls sat in the back, with Josie behind Clint. He focused on the road, trying not to look at her in the rearview mirror. When the black asphalt gave way to gravel and then muddy ruts, he shifted his truck into four-wheel drive and slowed down to negotiate the windblown drifts of snow.

Frank had a satisfied smile on his weathered face. He seemed relaxed. Content to be here. And Clint wished he felt the same.

He tried to tell himself he was just self-conscious because of the tree violation and asking Frank to learn to read. But he knew this jittery feeling went deeper than that, and he wished he could shake it off.

He didn’t have to insist they all wear their seat belts. They each strapped in, their heads bobbing gently as the vehicle bounced over deep potholes in the washboard road. Come spring, he’d send a Forest Service crew up here to even out the potholes.

The blast from the heater filled the cab with warmth and Clint switched it down a notch. The recent storms had blanketed the mountains in white. Though it was almost two in the afternoon, ice crystals clung to barren tree branches. Tall spruce and fir trees pierced the cerulean sky like elegant dancers. The river paralleling the road showed rocks and a shore that glistened like diamonds. He glanced at the crystal clear stream filled with frigid water. A beautiful winter scene. No prettier place on earth. Clint loved it here.

“Brrr, I’d hate to swim in that river.” Looking out the window, Gracie gave a little shiver.

“I would, too,” Josie agreed.

“But it’s sure beautiful up here,” Clint said.

Frank burst into a quick song, his bass voice vibrating through the air. It was a poignant verse about a young man stranded up on a mountain during a fierce winter storm. All the fellow wanted was to return to town and see his sweetheart one last time before he died. Instead, he froze to death and his shrieks of grief could still be heard on the mountain as the howling wind.

“You have a beautiful voice, Frank,” Clint said when he’d finished the chorus. He’d always enjoyed Frank’s singing in the church choir.

“But I don’t like that song. It’s so sad.” Gracie’s nose crinkled with repugnance.

“You’re right. The young man forgot the most important thing while he was trapped up on the mountain alone,” Frank said.

Clint felt both Gracie and Josie lean forward, eager to hear more.

“And what’s that?” Josie asked.

“He forgot to pray.”

She released a breath of cynicism and sat back. In his rearview mirror, Clint saw her tight expression. Hmm. She must not believe in the power of prayer. Her disbelief fitted his preconceived notions of her. A woman of the world, focused on her job and getting ahead. And certainly not what he would ever consider wife and mommy material for him and Gracie. But if what Frank had told him about her life was true, Clint figured she had a right to be cynical.

Gracie rested her miniature hands on the back of Frank’s seat. “You think God would have helped the man down off the mountain if he’d prayed?”

“I do,” Frank said.

Gracie touched Clint’s shoulder. “But, Daddy, why wouldn’t God help him off the mountain without him praying first?”

From Josie’s skeptical expression, Clint could tell she wondered the same thing. Her doubt caused an overwhelming conviction to rise within his chest. In spite of how Karen had died, he felt God’s presence in his life every day. The Lord had sustained him through a very dark time. Though he had his own failings, Clint couldn’t help wanting to share his belief with others.

“He would have, if it had met His plan,” he answered. “But I think our Heavenly Father is just like regular parents. Sometimes, He waits for us to ask for His help.”

Gracie angled her head closer, resting her cheek against the shoulder of Frank’s red flannel coat. “What do you mean, Daddy?”

Clint was aware of Josie waiting for his response with rapt attention. Her eyes deepened to a cobalt-blue and flashed with doubt.

“I sometimes stand back and let you figure things out on your own, right?” he said.

“Yes, sometimes. But you help me all the time, too.”

“That’s right. But I don’t want to interfere if you don’t want me to. I try to stand back and let you learn some things on your own, including how to ask for my help. And when you ask, I step right in, because I love you so much. Well, I think God sometimes does the same thing for us. He wants us to live by faith, so He stands back and waits for us to call on Him for help. We don’t always know His plan for each of us, but I do know when we call on Him in prayer, He answers us. Maybe not the way we want, and maybe not on our timetable, but He does answer. Every time. It’s our job to exhibit faith.”

Speaking the words aloud brought Clint a modicum of peace. And it renewed his conviction that God loved him and Gracie. Clint knew the Lord wanted nothing but the best for them. And it also reminded him that he must not forget to call on God in prayer. To never give up hope.

Gracie sat back, thinking this over. “But your parents are dead. Who helps you, Daddy?”

“The Lord does. With God, I’m never alone.” Clint peered in the rearview mirror at his daughter’s puzzled expression.

He also noticed Josie, who stared out the window, seeming absorbed in thought. He wished she’d say something. Because he didn’t know her well, he didn’t want to push. At least not yet. Karen had been silent and deadly, keeping her feelings bottled up inside until they’d boiled over in tearful rage. Frank had never mentioned if Josie had a temper, and Clint sensed that wasn’t her way.

Now, he was concerned. Gone was her cheerful smile; her forehead was creased with distrust. For some reason, Clint didn’t like seeing this woman unhappy. And he hoped he hadn’t said anything to drive her further away from God. He still had the impression that something was bothering her. Something big. But it wasn’t his business to question her. He couldn’t interfere. Not unless she asked him to.

Just like the Lord.

After finding a place to turn his truck around, Clint parked in the middle of the deserted road. He doubted anyone else would come along and need to get by them while they were up on the mountain. If they did, he’d move his truck.

He killed the engine, then opened his door and got out. “Okay, ladies, you get the chore of choosing the trees. Make sure it’s what you want before we start to cut, though. I only have three permits.”

Frank gave an exaggerated cough, as though he was swallowing a heavy chortle. “No, we don’t want any more extra trees to explain to the forest ranger.”

Josie’s chuckle sounded from behind him and Clint didn’t even try to hide his smile. Yes, it was definitely good they could laugh about the situation now, and he liked that Josie had a sense of humor.

The foot-deep snow crunched beneath his boots as he stepped back to let the girls out. Josie climbed down first, tugging on her gloves, her breath puffing on the air each time she exhaled.

Clint looked at her tennis shoes and shook his head. He made a mental note not to let her stay out in the snow too long. Her feet would soon become wet and then she’d get cold.

If necessary, he had several pairs of dry socks in his fire pack in the back of his truck. Serving others came naturally to Clint and he couldn’t help feeling responsible for Josie and Frank. It felt surprisingly good to have someone besides Gracie needing his attention. No matter what, Clint would ensure everyone here was taken care of while on this trip.

Sunlight sparkled off Josie’s dark blond curls. The color of her eyes deepened to a sapphire-blue as she looked about. Twin circles of pink stained her pale cheeks. With the snow-covered trees as a stunning backdrop, she looked absolutely gorgeous.

Realizing he was staring, Clint looked away, so fast that he almost lost his balance in the snow. Clearing his throat, he clutched the handle of his chain saw tightly and wondered what was wrong with him. Josie was just Frank’s granddaughter. Within a few weeks, she’d return to Las Vegas. Besides, he and Gracie had been on their own for years, and he liked it that way.

So why did he suddenly wish for more?

“I’m with Grandpa Frank.” Gracie clasped the old man’s hand.

“All right. Let’s find the prettiest tree,” Frank said.

Clint glanced at Josie. “I guess that means you’re with me?”

A question, not a statement.

“Um, okay.” She gave a noncommittal shrug.

He headed off, plowing through the snow with his boots to make a wide path for Josie to follow. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw her lift her knees high as she navigated the trail in her shoes. As they tromped through the drifts, she didn’t utter a single complaint. Karen had grumbled about so many things. Now Josie’s silence won a notch of respect from Clint.

“That one!” Gracie’s shrill voice filled the air as she ran toward a bushy spruce standing along the roadside.

Frank followed, slogging through the snow in his black, knee-high boots. He brushed crusted ice off the tree’s pointed top and held up the hand saw. “You sure?”

“No, this one. Oh, it’s perfect.” Gracie raced farther into the forest and stood beside another tree. “Or what about that one? It’s so pretty.”

“You can only have one,” Frank called, as she darted from tree to tree.

Clint smiled, thinking perhaps it’d been a blessing that he was stuck with Josie. But poor Frank wasn’t a young man anymore. It’d be easy for Gracie to run him ragged. “You’re gonna have to choose one tree, so make up your mind before Grandpa Frank starts to cut.”

“Okay,” Gracie chimed.

“I like this one.” Josie waved to Clint.

He whirled around as she pointed at a small fir with thick clusters of dark green needles.

“That’s a good choice. Firs retain their needles longer and have a nice scent.” He took a step, then heard Gracie call again.

“What about this one, Grandpa Frank?”

Frank lumbered after the girl, grumbling something about women never being able to make up their minds.

The child bopped hither and yon to inspect what seemed to be every tree on the hillside. Frank finally stood still, letting her have her fun, while waiting for her to decide.

“Gracie, settle on one tree and stay where I can see you,” Clint called when she wandered too far off.

“She’s a female, son. She’ll never settle for just one tree. You should know that by now. But I’ve got a way to distract her.” Shaking his head, Frank laughed and hurried after her. When he came near, he tossed the hacksaw aside and fell backward into the soft snow.

“Gramps!” Josie cried.

* * *

A burst of panic blasted Josie’s chest. Gramps had fallen. He might be ill. He had a bad heart and she feared he’d left his medication at home. A nauseating lump settled in her stomach.

Paying no heed to the knee-deep snow, she lurched forward, and would have run to her grandfather if Clint hadn’t held out a hand to stop her.

“He’s okay. Trust me. Just watch a minute.”

At that moment, Gracie pounced on Gramps. He caught the child and rolled, tickling her and laughing. Gracie shrieked, her voice rising through the treetops.

Josie relaxed her stiff shoulders, her heart still thumping madly. She glanced at Clint. “How did you know he was okay?”

Clint shrugged. “It’s a game they’ve played before.”

Understanding filled her mind. Memories washed over her as she listened to her grandfather’s deep chuckles. When she’d been young, he’d played with her in much the same way. Making her feel loved and wanted. Helping her forget her sad childhood back at home.

“I guess I’ve missed a lot of fun times with my grandparents over the past few years. I’ve been too busy with work.” Though she didn’t want Gramps to get overly tired on this excursion, she was glad to see him having fun.

“You’re making up for it now.” Clint’s words sounded a bit reluctant.

She turned, her gaze resting on him as he lifted his chain saw from its case. He used an Allen wrench to move the bar out and tighten up the chain. With a knit cap pulled low across his ears and his blunt chin sporting a hint of stubble, he looked completely masculine and content to be up on this mountain cutting trees.

“Better late than never, huh?” she asked.

“It’s never too late with family.” He spoke without looking up.

His words brought her a bit of comfort. And standing there in the forest, her feet cold in the snow, Josie realized her family meant everything to her now. Once Gramps was gone, she’d have no one left. No husband or children to call her own. And maybe that was for the best. Remembering her parent’s ugly divorce, she decided being alone was preferable to being miserable in a bad marriage. Wasn’t it?

She contemplated Gramps as he pushed himself up, brushed the snow off his blue coveralls, then followed Gracie over to inspect another tree.

“I worry about him.” Josie spoke absentmindedly.

Clint looked up from his task. “That’s as it should be, but I think he’s doing okay.”

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