The Forest Ranger's Christmas Read online

  Standing on the front porch, she reached for Gramps’s snow shovel, squinting against the haze of sunlight streaming through the trees.

  “Hi there.” Clint stood at the bottom of the steps, wearing a black knit cap, gloves and his warm winter coat.

  She returned his smile. “Hello. What are you doing here?”

  He gestured toward a pile of snow. “Shoveling.”

  Obviously. She felt rather stupid for asking. Then she remembered he was here on assignment from his church. And she couldn’t help wishing he’d come to see her again.

  She struck a pose and gestured downward, to draw attention to her feet. “Do you like them?”

  “Hey! You got some boots,” he said.

  “Yeah, I thought it was time. So now you don’t need to shovel our driveway. I can take care of it.”

  He shrugged one shoulder and continued with his chore. “Just being neighborly.”

  Yes, and pushing her senses into overdrive. Did he even realize how attractive she found him?

  “Are you neighborly to Gramps all the time?” she asked as she gripped her own shovel and stepped down beside him.

  “I guess so, but this is a force of habit. I’ve been shoveling Frank and Vi’s snow for three years now. Ever since we moved to Camlin.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that. Part of your church assignment, I suppose.” She’d assumed Gramps had done the chore, and vaguely remembered Grandma mentioning a kind man from her congregation who frequently shoveled their walkways for them. Now Josie realized it had been Clint.

  “Hi, Josie!” Gracie came running, bouncing through the drifts of snow like a kangaroo.

  “Hey, pumpkin. Walk around the edges so you don’t pack down the snow we have to shovel,” Clint directed in a gentle voice.

  The smiling girl hopped off the driveway. “Sorry, Daddy.”

  Gracie threw her arms around Josie in a tight hug. At first, Josie stood there in stunned confusion, her heart flying up into her throat. She’d never met a more affectionate child. So open and honest. And Josie didn’t know what to make of it. She’d never been hugged like this before. At least, not by someone other than Grandma and Gramps. And she silently admitted she quite liked it.

  Lowering her arms, Josie pulled Gracie in close. “Hi, sweetie. Thanks for shoveling our driveway.”

  Gracie drew back and tilted her head in an impish smile. “You’re welcome. We like doing it. Daddy says service is how we show people we love them. And we love you and Grandpa Frank a lot. Don’t we, Daddy?”

  The child looked at her father and waited expectantly. His gaze darted toward Josie, then dropped to the ground. “Yeah, of course we do.”

  Josie gave the girl another squeeze. “Well, I love you, too.”

  “See, Daddy? I told you so.” Gracie tossed her father a victorious smile.

  “Gracie...” he said in a warning tone.

  The girl looked away, a bit contrite.

  What was going on? Josie stared from one to the other in confusion. She sensed she was missing something here, but didn’t know what. She hadn’t meant to say she loved them, but the words had slipped out. She definitely loved Gracie. It was hard not to. But Josie wasn’t sure how she felt about Clint. He was just her grandfather’s friend. Right?

  “We’re gonna shovel all your sidewalks, too,” Gracie announced.

  “That’s nice. Thank you,” Josie replied.

  The girl returned to her task, dropping the blade of her shovel into the snow and plowing forward. She made little growling engine sounds in the back of her throat, like a snowplow.

  Josie laughed. “Like father, like daughter. But I fear she’s enjoying her work a bit too much. I’ve never seen a kid so happy to help out like this.”

  A chuckle rumbled in Clint’s chest. “Yeah, she throws herself into everything she does. But this is good for her. I’m raising a daughter.”

  Josie blinked. What did raising a daughter have to do with shoveling snow? “I don’t understand.”

  He stood up straight and took a deep inhalation before adjusting his knit cap over his ears. “When you’re raising kids, you’ve got to teach them service. And you do that by example. I’m not good at taking casseroles to sick people, but I’m great at shoveling driveways.”

  “Ah, I see.” And his explanation warmed Josie’s heart. From what she’d observed, Clint was an excellent father, loving and generous. And realizing how often he provided service to others brought a twinge of guilt. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something for someone else just because she could. Just because they needed her. More and more, she was learning a lot from this kind man, and liking everything about him. But she couldn’t say the same for herself. Edward had told her she was bitter and unlovable. That no man would ever want her. And though she didn’t want to believe it, and her logical mind told her it was a lie, there was also a part of Josie that feared it might be true.

  “Gramps is lucky to have you for a neighbor,” she said.

  Again, Clint flashed that winning smile that caused a blaze of lightning to crack inside her chest.

  “No, I’m lucky to have Frank. He’s a good man and I’m glad to know him,” he said.

  His rejoinder touched a chord inside Josie. How lucky she was to have Gramps as her grandfather. She wondered if it was luck or a blessing from heaven. Though she had little use for God, she was starting to think maybe she was wrong to have abandoned Him so long ago.

  “Speaking of which, I’ll go pick up the supplies to fix Frank’s roof later this afternoon. The weatherman says the temperature is going to warm up now. I should be able to do the repairs within the next few days,” Clint said.

  “But I don’t know what supplies we’ll need.”

  He waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry. My dad was a good handyman who taught me a lot. I know what to do, and have it covered.”

  His confidence and generosity inspired trust in her. Something she hadn’t felt toward a man other than Gramps for a very long time.

  “All right, but I’m paying for it,” she insisted.

  His lips twisted in a half smile. “Okay, lady. I won’t argue with that.”

  Now that it was settled, he bowed his back and continued his work. Josie joined him, moving to the other side of the driveway so they didn’t bump into one another.

  Dipping her shovel into the fluffy white stuff, she lifted and tossed, ignoring the sting as wisps of wind blew the powdery duff into her face. “Wow, it’s heavy.”

  He breathed deeply, speaking while he worked. “Yeah, a nice wet snow that should leave a good pack up in the mountains for our summer water supply. But it’ll also create lots of greenery in the spring, to dry out by midsummer. That’ll create a wildfire hazard, but we take the good with the bad.”

  She laughed at his analytical answer. “Do you ever stop being a forest ranger?”

  He hesitated, looked up and flashed that devastating smile she’d come to enjoy. “Nope, I guess not. That’s habit, too. I have to think about things like that in order to do my job.”

  And from what she’d observed, he was very good at everything he did. Dedicated, kind and hardworking. The kind of man she’d once dreamed of having for her very own.

  Bending over, she pushed her shovel past an edge of broken cement and tossed the scoop of snow aside. “I don’t know how you have time to raise Gracie, work your job and come over here to clear our snow and fix our roof.”

  “It’s no trouble. I live just two doors down.”

  She jerked upright, looking to where he pointed at a white frame house with blue shutters at the end of the street. The sidewalks and driveway there had already been shoveled. Not surprising. She was fast learning this man was highly conscientious. A fastidious caregiver who never shirked his duty.


  “I didn’t know you lived so close by.”

  Of course, she’d never asked. After all, she wasn’t interested in him or any man. Not when she had her own busy career and Gramps to focus on.

  Yeah, and pigs could fly.

  “It’s handy for stopping by to check on Frank now and then,” Clint said.

  “And do you stop by often?” she asked.

  “Probably a couple times each week.”

  She blinked in surprise, now understanding why he was so attached to her grandparents. But he wasn’t coming around because she was here. This was his normal routine. An assignment from church. Yet she kind of wished he was interested in her, too.

  They worked in silence for several minutes. Gramps soon came outside and waved to Gracie.

  “While your dad and Josie work out here, why don’t you come inside and help me fix breakfast, sweetheart?” he called.

  The girl came running. The moment she disappeared inside, Clint glanced at Josie. “Have you told him yet?”

  She whirled around, knowing he was referring to the move to Las Vegas. “Not yet, but I plan to sit down with him later today.”

  “Good. It’s time.” With a nod, he returned to his work.

  Minutes later they finished their chore, leaned their shovels against the house and went inside. The air smelled of savory bacon. Gramps had eggs and pancakes warming on the stove. Gracie had just finished setting the table. Having Clint and his daughter here felt so normal.

  Before she could blink, Josie found herself seated and listening to everyone’s happy chatter as they ate breakfast together. They laughed at Gracie’s nonstop banter and the pancakes Gramps had formed into animal shapes, complete with chocolate chips for eyes and broken candy cane pieces for the mouths.

  Looking at the rounded circles of batter that made up the face and two ears, Clint chuckled. “Is this a mouse or a bear?”

  “It’s a mouse, of course.” Gramps tucked his chin in, pretending to be offended.

  “I love mine, Grandpa Frank.” Gracie rewarded the elderly man with a hug and quick kiss on his cheek.

  Josie smiled and bit into a crisp piece of bacon. She absorbed Clint’s deep laughter like the desert sand absorbed rays of sunlight. A warm, giddy feeling settled over her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat down and eaten a meal with people she cared about. Like a real family. But then a tremor of warning made her shiver. Clint and Gracie weren’t her family. Not at all. And this would end soon. She mustn’t get too attached to the ranger and his sweet little daughter. No matter how much she wished she could.

  Chapter Seven

  Maybe Clint should have shoveled the sidewalks for Frank an hour earlier, before Josie was awake. Or not have come over at all. But he had seen the six inches of white new powder they’d received in the night, a wet, heavy snow that required lots of bending and lifting. And he couldn’t help worrying about Frank and Josie. After all, Clint was stronger than either of them and he didn’t want Frank out there shoveling at his age.

  Having finished breakfast, Clint stepped outside on the back porch. His booted foot bumped a box of colored Christmas lights sitting by the screen door. The day they’d driven up on the mountain to cut their Christmas trees, he’d noticed Josie had some lights in her shopping cart. No doubt she was planning to hang them on Frank’s house, but hadn’t found the time yet. From what he’d seen, she’d had her hands full cleaning up the place. He had to give her credit. She’d done it. Everything looked as tidy as when Viola had been alive.

  Again, Clint was impressed by Josie’s thoughtfulness. But when he pictured her clinging to a ladder, trying to staple lights to Frank’s eaves, he got a bad feeling inside. What if she fell and hurt herself? What if she wasn’t strong enough to make the staple gun work?

  The thought of her injuring her delicate hands made him cringe. And right then, against his better judgment, he decided he’d better take care of the chore for her. It wouldn’t take long. Gracie was occupied inside with Frank. Clint could get it done within an hour or so. The happy smile on Frank’s face would make it all worthwhile. And secretly, Clint wouldn’t mind seeing a bright smile on Josie’s pretty face, either.

  Without asking permission, he took the ladder and staple gun from Frank’s garage and went to work. Minutes later, he was well into the job when the snap of the staples penetrating the wood siding brought Josie outside.

  “What are you doing?” Standing on the sidewalk, she gazed up at him as she wiped her damp hands on a yellow dish towel.

  “Putting up your lights.” He forced himself not to look at her. Not to think she was attractive. Not to admire anything about her.

  “I was going to do that tomorrow,” she said.

  “Now you won’t have to. I’ll have it finished within the hour.”

  “You’ve done enough already. Really. Stop and come inside.”

  “I’ll be done soon.” He kept working. Trying to tell himself he should quit and go home. But he felt compelled to be here. As though his future happiness depended on his service to this family.

  “You’re putting me further in debt. How will I ever repay you?” she asked.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he grinned. “How about giving me and Gracie some of that peanut brittle you’re planning to make?”

  She smiled back, looking completely feminine in her frilly apron and blue, fuzzy slippers. “I think that can be arranged. Especially since Gracie’s inside helping me make it right now. But I have a feeling I’ll owe you so much more than just a tin of homemade peanut brittle.”

  He shrugged as he threaded the lights along the living room window frame, and punctuated his words with blasts from the staple gun. “I also like divinity and pumpkin bread.”

  He shouldn’t encourage her, but he loved homemade goodies. In fact, now that Vi was gone, he and Gracie rarely got such treats. He certainly didn’t know how to make them. His cooking abilities were limited to mac and cheese, hot dogs, scrambled eggs and cold cereal.

  Josie laughed, the sound high and sweet. “I think some pumpkin bread can be arranged, but I’m awful at making divinity. No matter how long I cook it, I can never get it to set up. It always tastes delicious, but you have to eat it with a spoon.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, definitely no divinity.”

  She folded her arms against the cold air. “You holler if you need help. I’ll hear you through the window.”

  He nodded, but he wouldn’t call. As she went inside, he felt a strange sense of elation, as if this was right where he belonged. But that didn’t keep his old friend guilt from chewing at his mind. Clint told himself he was doing these service projects to help Frank and nothing more. Yet he couldn’t help looking forward to seeing Josie again.

  His jaw tightened. He was crazy to think such thoughts. He couldn’t understand what had gotten into him. Then again, he knew exactly what the problem was. He’d met a beautiful woman. The first he’d been attracted to in seven long, lonely years. And he wanted to pursue her. To ask her out. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t take the chance of ruining her or Gracie’s lives.

  He shook his head. His wayward thoughts were an illusion that would only backfire on him down the road. Christmas brought the healing power of peace. It was a special time that promised joy throughout the year. But Clint knew better. It wasn’t real or lasting for him. No matter how much he liked being near Josie, he could never be with her. Once the holiday ended, they’d each return to their normal lives. They’d pack up their Christmas ornaments and put them away, and Josie would go home. And Clint and Gracie would be alone once more.

  * * *

  Something was wrong. The moment Josie stepped inside the kitchen, she could feel an edge of tension buzzing through the air.

  Gramps stood in front of a cupboard, the doors open. He held
several cans of soup in his hands. More cans lay haphazardly on the green linoleum, as though they’d been knocked there.

  “What are you doing, Gramps?”

  He jerked around and another can thudded to the floor. It rolled and thumped against the base of the refrigerator. “I can’t find my chicken noodle soup. You changed the labels on me.”

  A look of confusion crossed his face. Gracie’s charming voice came from the living room, singing Christmas carols with some kid show on TV.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t recognize the labels. It’s all different. I don’t buy this brand of soup.”

  In a flash, Josie realized what had happened. She’d bought groceries and put them away in the cupboard. She’d obviously purchased a different brand of soup than Gramps was used to. Since he couldn’t read the labels, he didn’t know which can to choose for lunch. But his tension seemed more than just about soup.

  “I’m sorry, Gramps. I didn’t realize. Let me help you.”

  She reached to take the cans, but he jerked away. “Don’t. I’ll do it myself.”

  Stunned by his brusque tone, she pulled back and watched him.

  The back door opened and Clint stepped inside and smiled. “Hey, Frank, I’m out of staples for the staple gun. If you don’t have any, I can run over to my place to get some.”

  He froze, seeing Gramps’s incredulous expression. No doubt sensing the anxiety in the room like a blast of chilly January wind.

  Clint clamped his mouth shut and stood there, his snow-covered boots dripping onto the old, tattered towel Josie had laid in front of the door for this exact purpose.

  “I’m useless. Good for nothing. I can’t even find a can of chicken noodle soup,” Gramps said.

  He bent down to pick up the fallen items, his hands visibly shaking. What was wrong? Josie didn’t understand.

  She reached to help, wrapping her arms around him. Holding on tight as she offered reassurance. “You’re good for everything. You’re my grandpa and I love you.”