The Forest Ranger's Christmas by Leigh Bale Read Free Book Online Page B

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    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