The Forest Ranger's Christmas Page 7

  When Josie bumped into Clint and gave a nervous apology, he felt the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Right there in the middle of the mountain, with Frank and Gracie watching.

  What an odd notion. Just thinking about it made Clint’s face heat up like a flamethrower. And he realized in all these long, lonely years, he hadn’t found one single woman who’d made him feel like laughing again.

  Until today.

  * * *

  “Thanks for the Christmas tree. This outing meant a great deal to Gramps.” It meant a lot to Josie, too.

  Standing outside in front of Gramps’s house, she smiled up at Clint and folded her arms against the chilly wind. The cold air stung her nose. After Clint had deposited their Christmas tree inside, she’d walked him and Gracie out to their truck, wanting an opportunity to thank the ranger for his kindness.

  “All things considered, you’re not quite the bully I first thought you were,” she confessed with a smile.

  He quirked one brow high and tried not to laugh. “Is that right? Well, I’m glad to hear it. I think.”

  She squelched a chuckle, thinking it was very good, since she’d be forced to work with him over the next few weeks while Gramps learned to read.

  “I’ll return your socks as soon as I can wash them.”

  He jutted his chin toward her feet, which were covered by the pair of blue fuzzy slippers she’d slipped on the moment she got inside. “Keep in mind that they’re wool. They won’t do well in your clothes dryer.”

  She nodded. “So noted. Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome.” Clint flashed that devastating smile of his as he buckled Gracie into her seat and closed the truck door.

  A bank of clouds brooded overhead. By morning, they’d have more snow. Thick shadows swallowed Clint’s tall frame as he circled around to the driver’s side. He brushed against Josie’s arm and she caught his spicy scent of pine and aftershave. She backed up a step, trying to remember the last time a man had given her goose bumps just by being near her.

  Like never. Not even her two ex-fiancés.

  No, she shouldn’t think such thoughts. Her dedication to her career had come with a price. But now, she couldn’t help thinking that work wasn’t what had destroyed her past relationships with her dad, mom and former fiancés. And God, too. Josie was difficult to love. She accepted that. But it didn’t stop her from wanting it.

  “You sure you can’t stay for supper?” she asked. “It’s the least I can offer after you helped us get our tree. I’ve got a beef stew simmering in the Crock-Pot and there’s plenty for everyone.”

  Inside the truck, Gracie’s eyes widened with enthusiasm and she bobbed her head up and down.

  “Nah, we’ve got to get going,” Clint said. “I took the afternoon off work to go get the trees, but now duty calls.”

  His generosity touched Josie’s heart and she could no longer begrudge the illiteracy issue with Gramps. She realized Clint had nothing but Frank’s best interests at heart. Rather than turning his back on the old man, Clint had shown an increase of love. He’d gone out of his way to help them get a Christmas tree. And he’d lent her a pair of warm socks. Such a simple act of kindness, but it meant the world to Josie. She couldn’t think of the ranger as an enemy. Not anymore. But that didn’t mean they were more than friends. And in a small way she regretted that.

  Okay, in a big way. But she’d never admit it out loud.

  Waving goodbye, she returned to the warmth of the house. Gramps helped her set the table, and laughed as they discussed their day.

  “You should have seen your face when Gracie chose yet another tree,” he said.

  “Yeah, that little girl is something special.”

  So was Gracie’s father, but Josie didn’t say that.

  “I’ll have to dig out the ornaments so we can trim our tree,” he said.

  “I’ll do it, Gramps. Where did Grandma store the decorations?”

  “Up in the attic. But let’s not tackle it tonight. I’m bushed.” He yawned and stretched before sitting down at the table.

  As she dished up the stew, Josie felt the same. Running around in the snow all afternoon had worn both of them out. In spite of the fuzzy slippers she now wore, she wondered if her feet would ever get warm again. Maybe after dinner she’d dash down to the general store before it closed. With another storm on its way, she would need boots tomorrow morning. “Our tree isn’t going anywhere. I need to call and check in with my work, anyway. We can string lights and decorate the tree over the next few days.”

  If only she could forget the kind, enigmatic forest ranger who had just left Gramps’s house, Josie might feel more at peace. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t relationship material. After the cruel words Edward had said to her when he’d broken off their engagement, she had no desire to become romantically involved with another man ever again. Especially a widowed father with a little daughter to raise.

  Okay, that wasn’t true, either. But Josie figured if she kept telling herself that, she might actually start believing it. Eventually. After all, it’d do no good to hope for things that could never be. And yet she couldn’t help feeling as if maybe, just maybe, she deserved one more chance at happiness.

  Chapter Six

  Clint tossed another load of laundry into the washing machine. He added a scoop of detergent, the fabric softener, then closed the lid. Stifling a yawn, he slid the milk jug back into the refrigerator and placed the dirty dishes in the sink. Turkey and cheese sandwiches with a bowl of chicken noodle soup. From a can. He’d included sliced apples and carrot sticks, to provide Gracie with additional nutrition. Nothing special like the tantalizing stew Josie had offered. Maybe he should have accepted and fed Gracie before they came home.

  Then again, maybe not.

  Poking his head into Gracie’s room, he found it dark, except for a reading lamp on the nightstand by her bed. Dolls and stuffed animals crowded the top of her dresser. Books and games lined two shelves. He loved each and every drawing and finger painting she had plastered on her walls.

  Gracie sat on the floor in her warm pajamas, holding a blue ceramic dish and a picture of her mother in her lap. He’d taken the picture of Karen the day they’d found out they were expecting Gracie. He’d been so filled with joy, but Karen had seemed reluctant. At the time, he’d written it off as nervousness over becoming a new mother. He hadn’t fully realized yet that her problem went much deeper. That she actually feared she would ruin their baby’s life simply because she was her mom.

  “That’s nice.” He pointed at the blue dish with white speckles.

  Gracie had made it last year in school. A Mother’s Day gift for a mom she didn’t have. Her teacher had told her to give it to her dad instead. Gracie had kept it, insisting she’d one day give it to her new mom, if she ever got one.

  “You about ready for bed, pumpkin?” He stepped inside and picked up a few toys she’d missed when he’d sent her to clean up her room.

  “Yep, I’ve even brushed my teeth.” She gritted her teeth to show him her rows of pearly whites, and stuck her tongue into the gap where her front tooth was missing.

  He laughed. “Good job.”

  She stood and placed the picture aside, skimming her fingertips over the glass pane, as though she were caressing her mother’s face.

  Clint had given her the picture two years ago, when she’d first started asking questions about Karen. He didn’t want her to forget her mother or ever believe she wasn’t loved.

  From what Frank had told him, Josie had grown up believing she was an unwanted burden. Clint could understand how that might make her a bit antisocial. In spite of her emotional problems, Karen had loved Gracie very much. It was herself that Karen hated. She’d never believed Clint had loved her, either. And that tore him up inside. How he
wished Karen could have seen herself the way he saw her.

  The way God saw her.

  “I miss Mommy,” Gracie said.

  “I know. Me, too.”

  “Someday I’m gonna give this to my new mom.” She set the dish beside the picture.

  Clint didn’t say a word, his heart twisting into tight knots that made breathing difficult.

  Gracie knelt beside the bed. He forced a smile and joined her there, pulling her close as they folded their arms and closed their eyes. Evening prayers were such an integral part of their nighttime routine that Gracie didn’t even ask anymore. She just knelt down and began.

  “Heavenly Father, thanks for the wonderful day we had and our beautiful Christmas tree. And thanks for letting Grandpa Frank and Josie come along with us. Bless Mommy and Daddy and me and help us to always be brave. And help Daddy to find us a new mommy, because we’re lonely. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

  “Amen.” Clint opened his damp eyes.

  He loved Gracie so much and she never ceased to amaze him with her honesty and compassion. But how could he tell her that there would never be another mom for her?

  Gracie scrambled onto the bed and burrowed beneath the blankets. Clint sat beside her on the mattress. He snuggled the covers up around her shoulders, tucking her in.

  “What was Mommy like?” she asked.

  He knew the drill. Almost on a daily basis, his daughter asked the same question. But he didn’t mind. He knew this was the only real connection Gracie had with her mother. Talking about Karen helped the girl feel closer to her mom. Helped keep her real and alive.

  “Well, she was smart and pretty, like you. And she liked to ride horses.”

  Gracie’s brows pinched together. “White horses?”

  “Yes, and purple and green horses, too.” He leaned forward until their noses touched.

  “There’s no green horses, Daddy.”

  He tickled her ribs and she squealed.

  “How do you know?” he asked, laughing deeply.

  She pursed her rosebud lips. “Everyone knows that, except you.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But she loved the solitude of riding.”

  His daughter’s eyes crinkled. “What’s solitude?”

  “Quiet. Privacy. Being by herself.”

  Karen had liked being alone too much, but Clint didn’t tell Gracie that. Thankfully, his little girl had a special way of relating to other people, and wasn’t at all like her mom in that regard. She was what her teacher at school called a “social butterfly.” Clint didn’t want to change that, apart from perhaps encouraging her not to chat quite so much during class time. Most people loved her and he wanted her to feel wanted and accepted.

  “I like Josie,” she said out of the blue.

  He nodded, not surprised.

  “Don’t you like Josie?” she pressed.

  “Yes, I like her just fine.” But he couldn’t help wondering where this was leading.

  “When you go over to Grandpa Frank’s house to fix his roof, Josie said she’s gonna let me help her make Grandma Vi’s chocolate chip cookies. And maybe some peanut brittle or pumpkin bread.”

  “Hmm. That should be lots of fun. And tasty, too.” He appreciated Josie’s generosity toward his daughter. Gracie loved everything domestic, baking included. Anything that might be interpreted as motherly. And once again he thought he might have misjudged Josie.

  “I wish Josie could be my new mom. And I wish Grandpa Frank could be my real grandpa. Then we’d be a real family again. That would make Christmas so much more fun.”

  Oh, boy! This conversation was definitely taking Clint out of his comfort zone. Fast.

  “I don’t think that’s gonna happen, pumpkin,” he said.

  “Why not?” Her unblinking eyes met his.

  “For one thing, Josie lives in Las Vegas. She has her life there and we have ours here.”

  “Why can’t we have our lives together?”

  He raked his fingers through his hair, wishing his daughter wasn’t quite so precocious. “It’s not that simple. Josie’s worked hard for her job there and I’ve worked hard for my job here. I know you and I both miss Mom, but we’re doing okay on our own, aren’t we?”

  Gracie nodded and blinked her brown eyes, so much like her mother’s. For a long time, he’d feared she might have also inherited Karen’s depressive mood swings, but Gracie always seemed so happy and even-keeled. In retrospect, he realized why he’d fallen in love with Karen. She’d been so sad and vulnerable, and he’d wanted to protect her the way his dad had protected him and his mom. Always there. Always supportive and loving.

  But Clint had failed miserably.

  “We’re doing okay, but we could be a lot better,” Gracie said.

  From the mouths of babes.

  “I’m gonna ask Santa to make Josie my new mom,” Gracie announced. “Then we can all be happier together.”

  Happier? He hadn’t thought about it much. He worked and served each day, meeting his responsibilities. Trying to be the best father and forest ranger he possibly could. He loved his work, he loved his child and he loved God. That was all he needed in his life. But was he happy? Clint didn’t know anymore. He sure didn’t laugh much. Until today.

  He arched one brow. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You know Josie is just a friend, right?”

  “But I want her to be more than just a friend. I want her to be my mom. You should ask her out, Daddy. On a real date. And buy her flowers and say mushy stuff to her.”

  Oh, yeah. This mommy discussion had gotten way out of control. But it sliced his heart to know his daughter had thought this deeply about the topic.

  He sat back and took a long, settling breath. He wasn’t about to lead his daughter on. With her usual candor, she might say something embarrassing to Josie. Better to nip this in the bud right now. “No, sweetheart. No dates. No flowers or mushy stuff. Frank and Josie are just friends we visit once in a while. Besides, Josie is just here for a short visit. She can’t stay.”

  Gracie shrugged her slender shoulders and the carefully tucked in blankets drooped. “So ask her to stay.”

  Clint stared. Children saw things so simply. Their innocent minds couldn’t always grasp the complications that adults packed into their lives. Either you were happy or sad. Hungry or full. Everything was black and white, with no gray areas. But Clint didn’t have the luxury of seeing things that way. Not anymore.

  “I’m not going to do that. Now, go to sleep,” he said.

  He stood and stepped over to the door, flipping off the light before she could comment any further.

  As he walked out of the room, he heard her huff of impatience. Then her whispered voice filled the air like a shout. “I’m still gonna ask Santa to give us Josie and Grandpa Frank for Christmas. I’ve been good this year and we can make them happy, too.”

  Clint ignored that and headed down the hallway toward the living room. Brushing aside Gracie’s coloring books, he plopped down on the sofa and switched on the evening news. He turned the volume down low, so it wouldn’t disturb her. With any luck, she’d fall asleep soon.

  He should go to bed, but Gracie’s words troubled his mind. Why had she set her sights on Josie for a mom? They barely knew the woman. But that didn’t seem to matter. He was attracted to Josie. Chemistry, Viola had called it. When a man and woman were drawn to one another for no obvious reason. A mating of their spirits.

  But Josie didn’t seem his type. No, not at all. She was too confident, educated, and set in her ways. Too determined in her goals. And he realized these were also just a few of the reasons he found her so attractive.

  Laying his head back, Clint decided not to think about it anymore. He’d had his chance at happily ever after. Now, he had Gracie to ra
ise. That was enough. It must be enough.

  And yet it wasn’t. No matter how hard he wished it was.

  * * *

  The next morning, Josie stood in the kitchen wearing her bathrobe and blue fuzzy slippers. Gazing out the window, she stared in awe at the stunning winter wonderland before her.

  Ice crystals had gathered around the edges of the single-pane glass, forming intricate shapes. Six inches of new snow had fallen in the night, blanketing the world in white. As she stared at the hoarfrost clinging to the cherry tree in the yard, a reverent feeling settled over her. And for several moments, she found herself almost believing that God had created this beautiful world she lived in. That He wasn’t a remote, uncaring God. That He loved all His children.

  Including her.

  The scraping sound of a snow shovel brought her back to reality. The neighbors must be out early this morning.

  Reaching for a pan, she set it on the stove, then turned toward the fridge. She’d make Gramps his breakfast, then get dressed and venture out into the cold to clear their driveway and sidewalks. Later on, she planned to make peanut brittle. She’d found Grandma’s recipe last night. Making candy would give her something to do until she could gather up the courage to speak with Gramps about moving to Las Vegas.

  A figure moved past the kitchen window and she lurched around. Looking out, she saw Clint wielding his shovel like a tractor as he cleared tidy furrows along their driveway. At the sight of him, Josie’s pulse tripped into double time. Before she could consider why seeing this man caused her breath to quicken, she glanced over at the garage.

  Gracie followed behind her dad, pushing a child-size red plastic shovel. Amusement mingled with surprise inside Josie’s mind. Clint didn’t need to shovel their walks. Josie could do it. In fact, she relished the exercise. This man didn’t need to keep coming over here to serve them. She could take care of Gramps. But she was glad Clint was here.

  Abandoning breakfast for the time being, Josie hurried to her room, jerked on her clothes and pulled a brush through her snarled hair before racing downstairs again. She tugged on her coat and gloves, stomped into the new snow boots she’d purchased last night just before the store had closed, and hurried outside.