The Forest Ranger's Return

“Who are you running for?” she asked.

Or from? That was what she really wanted to know.

He tilted his head in question. “What do you mean?”

“Who’s your sponsor?”

“Ah! Sunrise Ranch, of course. The amputee kids.”

“Of course.”

“And who’s your sponsor?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t have one yet. I could use the Forest Service, but that might be viewed as a conflict of interest.”

“Why?”

“Some people might not like the idea of a government agency sponsoring the new forest ranger. Some folks get touchy about things like that.”

“Well, they shouldn’t.”

“I agree.”

Within minutes, he pulled into the driveway of her white Forest Service house, located two blocks north of Main Street. From what her new range assistant had told her, Lyn Baldwin had lived here with her amputee daughter until she’d married Cade Baldwin and moved out to Sunrise Ranch.

Julie hadn’t needed to give Dal directions to her house. Not surprising in such a small town. Throughout her career, she’d been transferred quite a bit and had worked hard for this promotion as a forest ranger. Now she hoped to put down roots. She might never be a wife and mother, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t become involved in her community.

A town that included Dal Savatch.

As he helped her amble up the path to her front porch, she noticed that the pain in her ankle was almost gone. Thank goodness. She had a full day of work ahead of her. With starting a brand-new job, she didn’t need a throbbing ankle to keep her from perusing all the timber and watershed reports sitting on her desk.

Dal took her key from her hand and inserted it in the lock. He opened the door, pushing it wide. He didn’t come inside, but hesitated until she turned to face him. And then she realized that several minutes had passed in which she’d forgotten he was an amputee. She’d been so engrossed in her own discomfort that she hadn’t noticed how he’d helped her up the front steps. Somehow, this man made her forget he was handicapped.

A flood of memories from her childhood surged through her mind. Dal pushing her on the tire swing in her backyard. Helping her move sprinkler pipes in her father’s cornfield. Sitting with his arm around her shoulders as they rode the school bus each morning. In her mind, she couldn’t think of him as anything but confident, whole and in control.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked.

“Yes, thanks for everything. I really appreciate it.”

He lifted one strong hand and rested it against the threshold, his brows crinkled with thought. “Maybe once your leg is feeling better, we could run together. In the mornings. To prepare for the race. It might be safer if you have a running partner.”

His face flushed and he stepped back. She realized that he was embarrassed by the offer. Maybe he even regretted it.

She hesitated, liking this idea. And why not? Dal Savatch was nice enough. She didn’t have any friends in town. Not yet. Maybe spending time with this man from her past might help alleviate the hollow loneliness that had taken up residence within her heart.

“I’d like that very much,” she said.

Then she thought better of it. Dal Savatch was too likable. Too easy to talk to. Renewing their relationship could backfire on her. And then what?

“I’ll see you later.” He hurried down the steps, as though he wanted to escape.

Before she could change her mind.

As he strode gracefully back to his truck, she stared at his wide shoulders. No second thoughts. Not now.

Without another word, she went inside and closed the door. An empty void settled inside her chest. As she hobbled down the hallway to her bedroom, she knew she’d be late getting in to work that morning. She also knew she’d see Dal Savatch again sometime soon. Perhaps tomorrow morning. Or the next. And somehow that was okay for now. It had taken years for her to process her grief. Her psychologist had taught her not to think about the past or worry about the future. And she wouldn’t. Because she and Dal Savatch could never be anything more than friends.

Chapter Two

Julie didn’t go running the next day. Or the next. Dal knew, because he watched for her. She must be home resting her ankle. But after three more days and no sign of her, he started to worry. He couldn’t help himself. And he didn’t like that. Because worrying led to caring, which led to heartbreak.

Julie Granger meant nothing to him. Just a blast from his past. He barely knew her, but that didn’t seem to matter. After all this time, he couldn’t get her off his mind. Her silent rejection from years past still haunted him.

A week later, he couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled his old truck into a parking place next to the McClellan National Forest Service office. After killing the engine, he slid the keys from the ignition and thrust the door wide-open. He slipped the keys into one pocket of his faded blue jeans, then swiveled around in his seat, placed both his booted feet on the ground, braced his hands against the frame of the door, got his balance and stood. A swift series of motions no one seemed to notice. But for Dal, each action required concentration if he didn’t want to fall flat on his face.

Rotating his left hip forward, he stepped up from the curb. With not a hint of a limp, he walked past the American flag waving in the breeze. Morning sunlight rested on the red tulips and yellow daffodils blooming in the flowerbeds that lined the redbrick building. Within moments, he reached the double glass doors, pushed them open and stood inside the reception room. The aroma of coffee filtered through the air, along with the click of someone typing on a keyboard and a phone ringing down the hall.

He hesitated, thinking he shouldn’t be here. Thinking he should have insisted that Cade come instead. But the truth was, Dal wanted to see Julie again. To find out if her ankle had healed. To go jogging with her.

To catch up on her life.

He tried to tell himself this visit was all about business. To develop a horse trail and campsite for amputee kids out at Sunrise Ranch. And yet, he knew it was something more. Something he didn’t understand.

He also knew that being near Julie might put him on a one-way collision course to heartache. He could never fall in love again. Never marry. Never have a family of his own. The secret he kept hidden deep inside his soul wouldn’t allow him to pretend.

So why was he here?

He still wasn’t quite sure. And that thought caused him to turn and reach for the door handle. Ready to leave. Ready to run away.

“Hi, Dal. Can I help you?” Shauna Cline, the receptionist, greeted him. A woman of perhaps fifty years, her red cheeks plumped with her smile.

He nodded politely. “Hi, Shauna. I... I’m here to see the new forest ranger, if she’s available.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

Dal shook his head. “Nope, sorry.”

He’d never needed an appointment to visit Lyn Baldwin when she’d been the forest ranger here. But after marrying Dal’s best friend and having two children, Lyn had retired to become a full-time mom six months earlier. Maybe Julie was a bit stuffier, but he doubted it. Not from what he remembered about her. Julie Granger had always been laid-back and easygoing. Anything but conventional.

But that was before her folks had died. She could have changed. Life had a funny way of doing that to people.

“Excuse me one moment, and I’ll see if she’s free.” Shauna stepped around the counter and bustled down the hall.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Dal noted the time. He thumbed through a pamphlet on preventing forest fires. He didn’t sit down, and he didn’t have to wait long.

“Dal! This is a pleasant surprise.” Julie greeted him with a tight smile and stiff shoulders. In her eyes, he saw a hesitancy that told him his visit was anything but pleasing to her.

“How’s your ankle?” Dal shook her hand, his gaze swishing over her spruce-green pants and the bronze shield pinned just above the left front pocket of her drab olive-color Forest Service shirt. A drastic change from the running shorts and shoes she’d been wearing last week. The uniform seemed odd to Dal. He had to remind himself that she was a professional woman, and the tables had turned on him. He now needed her help.