Love Inspired February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Cowboy's Reunited Family\The Forest Ranger's Return\Mommy Wanted (24 page)

“It must be fun to meet up with an old boyfriend after all these years,” Lyn said.

Julie didn't respond, struggling to keep the smile pasted on her face. She rested one hand along the armrest of her chair, fingering the downy softness of Clarisse's baby blanket.

“I think it's time I got back to work. I'll see you tomorrow morning.” Dal stood and, with a quick nod toward Julie, headed for the front door.

Cade released a sigh of resignation. “Me, too. Nice to have met you, Julie. I'll look forward to working with you on our trail project.”

He kissed Clarisse on the forehead, then handed the baby over to her mother.

“Yes, the horse trail should be quite an adventure.” Julie tried to sound positive when she was feeling the complete opposite.

In turn, Cade kissed his wife on the lips and Kristen on the forehead, then left, pulling the door closed behind him.

Julie breathed a silent sigh of relief. With the men gone, her racing nerves settled back to a normal pace. No matter how nice they were, being around men made her nervous. They just did.

Especially Dal. Although for different reasons she didn't dare contemplate.

Eyeing Julie's briefcase, Lyn made a suggestion. “Why don't we go into the kitchen so we can use the table? Then we'll have room to spread out and talk.”

“That's a great idea.”

“Kristen, will you watch Clarisse for a little while?” Lyn asked.

The girl nodded and slipped her arms around the baby.

As the women stood and made their way into the other room, Julie reminded herself that this was her first ranger district, and she was eager to perform to the best of her ability. She was educated and experienced and knew how to do her job. Outside of work, she didn't want to get involved with Dal and his best friend's family. Next time—if there was a next time—she'd ask Lyn to come into town to meet with her there.

Remembering her jogging commitment with Dal, Julie inwardly groaned. As it stood, she would be forced to spend more time with Dal every morning. Unless she did something to change that.

Maybe it was time she purchased a treadmill to use inside the comfort of her own home. She could make some kind of excuse to Dal, but knew that might hurt his feelings. Plus, she didn't want to do that. She hated admitting it, but she liked running with Dal. And that was just the problem. For twenty years, she'd purposefully avoided any personal attachments. A lone woman apart. But that had changed in a matter of weeks. Because, like it or not, she now cared what Dal thought. And caring about a man scared her most of all.

* * *

“You're awful quiet,” Cade said.

Standing inside the stable, Dal barely spared the other man a glance as he picked up a pitchfork. Max, Cade's Australian cow dog, lay nearby, panting.

Dal pitched hay to the horses. “I don't have anything to say.”

“You didn't tell me she was so pretty,” Cade said.

Dal looked up and tried to keep his expression blank. “Who?”

Cade tossed a handful of straw at him in a teasing gesture. “Julie, that's who. And don't try to pretend you don't know who I'm talking about.”

With a shrug, Dal set the pitchfork aside and reached for a bucket of oats. “Yeah, I suppose she's pretty enough.”

“You suppose?” Cade stared in surprise. Then his mouth quirked in a knowing smirk. “Oh, I see. You loved her. Just how serious was your relationship with her when you were in high school together?”

Dal flinched. He couldn't help himself. But he didn't say a word.

“You don't want to tell me about it?” Cade asked.

“Nope.” Dal walked the length of the stable, his boot heels pounding against the floorboards in rhythm with the beat of his heart. Hoping Cade would give up on the topic and leave, Dal stepped inside the stall of one of their mares.

Cade followed, and so did Max. When they all stopped, the dog slumped down on the floorboards while Cade cupped his hands over the top handle of a manure rake. “You told me she's single. Are you gonna ask her out?”

“Nope.” Dal set the pail down with a muffled thump and patted the mare's neck as she lowered her head to eat.

“Why not?”

A feeling of helpless anguish crushed Dal's chest. “You know I don't date. Not for years now.”

Cade snorted. “I'm not asking you to marry the woman. Just go out and have some fun for a change. What could it hurt?”

Dal shot his best friend a withering glare. “I can't afford to take the chance, Cade. What if she falls in love with me? You know I have nothing to offer a woman. I'd only break her heart.”

“Are you afraid she'll fall in love with you, or that you might fall in love with her?”

“Both,” Dal growled. “The outcome would be the same. Broken hearts.”

He stalked over to the grain barrel and scooped oats into another bucket.

“That's hogwash,” Cade said. “Julie isn't Barbara. I can tell after one meeting that Julie's not the kind to dump you just because you have a prosthetic leg.”

Dal lifted his brows. “Barb dumped me for more reasons than just my leg.”

Cade released a disgusted huff. “She always was a superficial witch. I never liked her.”

“That's harsh. You hardly knew her.”

“I knew enough. But Julie is different. I saw the way she looks at you. She doesn't even notice your leg. She's too busy trying to avoid your eyes. She blushed at least a dozen times while you two were together. She likes you. A lot. And you like her. So why not ask her out?”

Dal slammed the bucket down on a plank workbench, and Cade flinched. “It's not that simple, Cade, and you know it. If it were just a matter of dealing with my prosthetic leg, I could cope with that. But the IED caused more damage than that. I may never be able to father a child. You think I want to saddle Julie, or any woman, with a husband like that? Julie deserves kids. Lots of them. And I may not be able to give her that. I can't give her anything.”

A heavy silence followed Dal's outburst. Dal hated discussing his dark secret. As a result, very few people knew the truth. And Dal preferred it that way.

The two men stared at each other. The best of friends. Closer than two brothers could ever be. And yet, Dal stood alone in his misery.

“You'll never know, unless you try. Isn't the possibility of a happy life together worth giving it a shot?” Cade asked.

“No. I can't take that chance. I won't put Julie through that,” Dal insisted.

A horrible, swelling silence followed.

“Look, Dal. You saved my life when we were in Afghanistan.” Cade spoke in a slow, soothing voice. “I've never forgotten how you came in with the special-ops team to rescue me when I was a prisoner of war. You pushed me out of the way and took the brunt of that explosion yourself. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here today. I owe you everything. And I can't stand to see the toll that sacrifice has taken on you. You have the right to be happy, too. You can have a fulfilling life with one special woman. You don't need kids for that.”

Dal shook his head, his mouth tightening with his ghastly memories of war. “I've never once regretted saving your life, Cade. I never will. But did you just see Julie holding Clarisse? That woman deserves kids of her own. I don't have a choice, but Julie does. She deserves so much more than I can ever give her.”

“Why don't you let Julie decide that for herself?” Cade said. “Usually a woman marries a man because she loves him, not for the children they might have together.”

“Yeah, and can you picture me asking her out? I can hear me now. Excuse me, Julie,” Dal's voice took on a mocking tone, “but I may not be able to father a child. Would you go out with me anyway? We don't need to fall in love or marry. Let's just have a good time. And if we ever get serious, you'll just have to live with disappointment. How does that sound?”

An abrasive laugh slipped from Cade's throat and he clapped his hands, as if in applause for Dal's performance. “Bravo. Very nice. But cynicism doesn't become you, buddy. You know, there's always adoption.”

“And what if Julie doesn't want to adopt? What if she wants to have kids of her own? If I married, how long before my wife starts to resent and hate me?”

“If she really loved you, it would never become an issue,” Cade said.

Dal lifted his brows. “Oh, really? Can you predict the future, then? I thought Barb loved me, but she took one look at my amputated leg and ran for the hills, screaming. I think she would have tolerated the prosthesis, but when she heard the rest of the news, that was it. She didn't love me enough. And I can't blame her.”

Turning, he jerked on a pair of leather gloves, then reached for a bale of straw and half dragged, half carried it to one of the clean stalls. Cade did likewise. Dal wished the other man would just leave him alone.

“You're right,” Cade said. “Barb didn't love you. Not really. Not if she couldn't see the great man you are in spite of losing your leg.”

Dal snorted. “I'm tired of this worn-out topic.”

“Remember when you first came to town?” Cade asked. “I was avoiding going out with Lyn, and you gave me some good advice. Do you remember what you said?”

The grating sound of Dal grinding his teeth together was his reply. But yes, he remembered as if it was yesterday.

“You said, you care for that woman and she cares for you. Nothing else matters.” Cade paused for the count of two. “You also told me to take her flowers. Daisies, because they wouldn't come on too strong until I asked her out. Do you remember? Julie's different from Barb. You said she lost her parents and ended up in foster care. She might be the one woman to understand and see you for the great man you really are.”

Filled with a surge of anger, Dal lifted the bale up and heaved it into the stall. The binding around the bale broke and straw spewed everywhere. As Dal drew back, he nearly stepped on Max, and the dog skittered out of his way. “Yeah, half a man. That's what she'll see. That's all I'll ever be.”

Cade set his bale down and dusted off his hands. “You're more than that, but you just won't see it.”

“We're supposed to go up and view Gilway Trail in the morning. I'd rather you went with Julie instead of me,” Dal said.

“No dice. I've got clinic duty. Lots of patients coming in. You'll have to go with her.” Cade smiled.

Dal whirled around and stared at his friend. “You can wipe that smirk off your face.”

“And you should ask Julie out on a date.”

“And you should mind your own business,” Dal groused.

“Maybe we could double-date. Lyn would love that. And it would make conversation easier until you and Julie catch up on everything....”

Dal slashed the air with his hand, cutting Cade off. “Leave it alone. I mean it. Let it go.”

Turning, Dal stomped out of the stable and headed toward the meadow. He hoped Cade wasn't following him. The way he was feeling right now, Dal might sock his best friend in the face. And then he'd have to explain to Lyn why he'd blackened her husband's eye or broken his nose.

To make sure he was alone, Dal tossed an angry glare over his shoulder. Cade stood with Max beside the watering trough, both man and dog watching Dal with a look of grave concern. Thankfully, Cade had the common sense to stay put this time.

Dal kicked at a clump of grass. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Cade's efforts. In fact, just the opposite. But, in the end, it didn't make any difference. Dal would love nothing more than to date Julie, fall deeply in love and marry her. But life hadn't been kind to either of them. They both carried a cruel past they were each trying to stash in the attic and forget.

Dal loved Julie. He always had. And because he loved her, he never wanted to hurt her again. Which meant no dates. Not ever. Not for him.

And that was that.

Chapter Five

D
al didn't show up to go running with her the next morning. Julie knew she hadn't accidentally missed him because she peeked past the curtains in her living room just before dawn. For almost two weeks now, he'd stood leaning against the tall cottonwood on the other side of her fence just as the sun came up, waiting for her to join him. She'd dubbed it “his tree.” But he wasn't there today. She delayed her jog an additional ten minutes, but still he didn't show. She'd come to enjoy the quiet camaraderie they'd shared. And though she'd never admit it out loud, she couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed and confused.

Two hours later, she stood in the Forest Service corral loading Dottie, her appaloosa mare, into the horse trailer. Maybe Dal hadn't gone running with her today because she'd be seeing him later that morning. They'd spend most of the day together, surveying Gilway Trail. She feared that his absence went deeper than that. Yesterday, when they'd eaten cookies at Sunrise Ranch, she'd sensed his reticence. His reluctance to be near her. In the beginning, he had been the pursuer and she had been the one who wanted him to stay away. Now it seemed to be just the opposite. She wanted to be near him all the time.

A mere twenty minutes later, she pulled into the driveway at Sunrise Ranch. Without announcing her presence, she lowered the back tailgate and unloaded Dottie. She'd just tossed a blanket over the mare's back when Dal came out of the stable riding a buckskin gelding. The man wore a scruffy cowboy hat, tight blue jeans and scuffed boots. Handsome and tall in the saddle. Even from this distance, she felt his intense gaze, and her senses kicked into overdrive.

“Morning.” He greeted her with a curt tug on the brim of his hat.

“Good morning,” she replied. “I missed you for our run today.”

Now why did she say that? She should have let it go. He didn't owe her any explanation. So why did his absence this morning bother her so much?

He pulled up and leaned one forearm against the saddle horn. “Sorry, I should have called you. It's been rather hectic this week. We've got our first group of kids this season coming in next Monday and a lot to do yet.”

She didn't understand why that had kept him from running with her at five-thirty this morning. She tried to read between the lines, but found no answers. Something had changed between them, and she sensed that it had to do with her visit to the ranch yesterday afternoon. “So soon? I thought you had a couple more weeks before the start of camp.”

He stepped off his horse, showing no indication that he was hampered by his prosthesis. “Nope, it's next week, and we're still a bit short on kitchen staff. I've been trying to find someone to help serve meals in the evenings, but not many people in town are willing to work after five o'clock. Most have families of their own they need to tend to.”

“What about high school students looking for summer employment?”

“If they were hardworking and patient with our kids, we'd hire them on the spot. But only one student applied, and we hired her. We need a couple more.”

“Have you advertised in the local newspaper?”

“Yeah, and I also put up fliers in the grocery store, gas station and post office. No bites yet. But we'll make do.”

She envisioned cute amputee kids like Kristen swarming the ranch next week and thought it might be fun to see.

His gaze flicked past her spruce-green pants and the bronze shield pinned to the left front pocket of her Forest Service shirt. “I can't get used to you in that uniform.”

She brushed her hand down one sleeve of her crisply ironed shirt and smiled. “I know. This drab olive isn't my best color.”

“No, it's not that. I keep remembering you in your cheerleading uniform.”

“White and royal blue, with big, puffy pom-poms,” she said.

“Yeah, you were so fun and easygoing in those days. Now you seem so...so official.”

Was she so different now? She supposed life had changed them both in too many ways to count. “I'm here in an official capacity, but I'm still a nice person, Dal.”

His gaze locked with hers, but still he didn't smile. “I have no doubt about that.”

At that moment, Cade and Kristen walked out onto the front porch of the house and waved.

“Good morning!” Cade called.

“Morning,” Julie returned with a smile.

“Hi, Julie.” Holding a brown paper lunch sack in one hand, Kristen looped her backpack over her shoulder and gripped the handrail. A subtle indicator that she was in a hurry and didn't want to stumble on the stairs with her prosthetic leg.

Funny how Julie now noticed such things in the short time she'd spent with Dal.

“Sorry we can't talk now. We're running late.” Cade's keys jingled in his hand as they rushed down the steps and headed toward his truck parked nearby.

“I understand. Have a nice day,” Julie called.

“We will, and you two have fun,” Cade said.

Dal thrust a thumb in Cade's direction. “He's late for the clinic and has to drop Kristen off for her last day of school before summer break.”

“Ah.” Julie wondered how this busy family kept up with all they had going on. “You sure you have time to view Gilway Trail today? We can postpone.”

Julie paused as she reached inside the horse trailer for her saddle, waiting for Dal's response. No sense in saddling her horse if they rescheduled their trip.

Letting the reins on his gelding trail on the ground, Dal brushed past Julie and lifted the saddle before placing it onto her horse. “I'll make the time today. This project is important for next year's camp.”

With swift movements, he cinched up her saddle, then dangled the reins over her forearm.

“Thank you.” She gripped the reins with white knuckles, wondering about his abrupt manners. On the one hand, he was being polite and gentlemanly. Considerate of her needs. On the other hand, his brusque gestures told her he was irritated about something. She figured she was the cause, though she wasn't sure why.

At least not yet.

“You're welcome.” He didn't smile as he returned to his horse.

Julie stared at his wide back. The tension in his shoulders and his clipped words spoke volumes. Something was bothering him. Something big.

In the back of her mind, she couldn't help wishing he'd flash that dazzling smile at her one more time. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him that he'd approached her about developing Gilway Trail, not the other way around. But then she decided to remain professional. Shut up, do her job and go home. She didn't want to be friends with this man again. She didn't care about his troubles.

Or did she?

They stepped up into their saddles and headed out, loping their horses across a meadow of new grass and blue lupines. Julie took a deep inhale. Being outdoors always brought her a measure of peace. She loved nature and the thrill of working in the mountains. For a time, she could almost forget the sadness that still haunted her after twenty years. She could almost believe that God still loved her.

Almost.

Within twenty minutes, they reached the trailhead. Julie pulled her horse up and rested her left hand against the cantle of her saddle. Dal sat silently nearby, letting her look at the layout as he awaited her judgment.

“Right off the bat, I can see that the opening to this trail isn't in compliance with accessibility requirements,” she said.

“What do you mean?” He pushed his hat back on his head. His horse swished its tail at a fly and stomped a hoof.

“I doubt that trail opening is at least thirty-two inches wide, that is, wide enough to accommodate a wheelchair.” She indicated the two gray boulders that stood like sentinels, framing the entrance to the thin path beyond. “It wouldn't take much to move these rocks and widen the opening with some heavy machinery.”

He quirked a brow. “The trail is awful steep to make it fit for a wheelchair.”

“We won't be modifying the trail for a wheelchair, just the opening.” Reaching for a small notebook and pen she kept in her shirt pocket, she jotted a few notes.

Dal leaned forward, his brows pulled together. She felt uncomfortable with him watching her so closely.

“How do you plan to get your kids mounted on their horses?” she asked.

He narrowed his eyes in thought. “Back at the ranch, we just use step stools. One of the staff members is always right there to help out each child. Almost one-on-one attention, to ensure the kids' safety.”

“A step stool will be a bit impractical way out here,” she said. “We could easily install a livestock ramp, so your kids can lead their horses up to the side and then climb on more easily. A small bulldozer could fit in here to build a dirt ramp right there. Along the trail, you'll still need a stool, in case one of the kids needs to get off their horse for some reason.”

“A ramp would definitely cut down on the number of stools we need to bring with us. I like your idea,” Dal said.

“Handrails are probably impractical in this environment, but we can install some on the ramp. Once the kids get on their horses, they should be okay.” She stepped off her mare and tied the reins to a nearby tree branch.

Dal did likewise, his head tilted as he listened to catch her every word. Julie felt jittery with him following so close, but decided to focus on her work. She was in her element and knew what she was doing. A handsome man from her past shouldn't make any difference.

But he did. She couldn't deny it.

“Right here, I suggest we install several hitching rails for your horses. You'll need one over by the ramp, too.” She gestured as she spoke. When she turned around suddenly, she ran smack into his wide chest.

“Whoa! Excuse me.” He lifted his hands to clasp her shoulders.

Julie stumbled, but his strong grip kept her from falling. His face flushed scarlet as he settled her, then backed away.

“Sorry, Julie.”

“No, thank you. It seems you're always saving me.” She gave a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the moment. Trying to ignore the buzzing in her head and the sizzling energy that pricked her skin where he'd touched her arms.

He glanced at her boots, then stared blankly at the ground. The coward.

She took a deep inhale and caught his scent of spice and leather. How could a man smell so nice?

She slammed the door on that thought. He was just a man after all. A very kind, attractive man.

“Um, there's plenty of room for you to bring in a truck with supplies, if you decide to do that. But you'll have to use pack horses from here on.” She continued with her dialogue, trying to pretend she hadn't almost run him over. “You can't use any motorized vehicles along the trail.”

She made more notes, noticing that Dal now kept his distance, his warm gaze following her every movement.

“We'll put a sign kiosk right here, out of the way.” She pointed at a shady spot beneath the spread of cottonwoods. “It'll include the name and length of the trail, the grade and slope of the path, and some rules associated with use of the campsite. A map might be a good idea, too.” She pointed at a rock wall at the base of the mountain. “We'll want to avoid changing this natural cliff formation. It's attractive, and we don't want to alter anything we don't have to.”

“If you say so.” He nodded and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, a look of hesitation in his eyes.

Shy and reserved. Not at all like the outgoing, playful boy she'd known in high school.

Reaching into her saddlebag, she pulled out a camera and started snapping pictures.

“What are those for?” Dal asked.

She tilted the lens to get the right angle on a particular incline. “So I can remember the exact setup of the terrain once I get back to my office. The pictures will also help once we hold our public meeting. I want to be prepared for anything.”

“I dread that meeting,” Dal said. “Some of the ranchers in the area are dead set against any development of this trail. They seem to think our kids might invade their privacy somehow.”

She snorted. “I don't see how that's possible. You're the only rancher in this vicinity. The next ranch is two mountains over.”

“Still, they may fight the development.”

She nodded. “And I'll listen to their objections. But that doesn't mean we won't proceed with the work. This is a good cause. I'll be impartial and reserve my final call until I've seen the entire layout. But so far, I see no reason not to alter this trail.”

Not if she could help it. As a teenager, she'd needed someone to make a difference for her. That someone had been Berta Alvey, an elderly widow who had taken her in after she'd lost all trust in men. For two years, Berta had worked with her, helping her see that not everyone was willing to take advantage of a young orphan. Now Julie believed the work she was doing for the amputee camp was important. She wouldn't go against any Forest Service regulations, but she was also determined to help Sunrise Ranch in any way she could. For the benefit of the kids.

As she snapped several more pictures, she tried to tell herself her goal had nothing to do with Dal. That she didn't care about pleasing him, too. But she knew that wasn't true.

Dal took a deep inhale and looked up at the cottonwoods swaying in the breeze. “Wow, it's pretty up here.”

“Yes, it is,” she agreed.

“Whenever I view the beauty of the earth, it deepens my belief in God.”

She didn't respond, and he glanced at her.

“Don't you feel the same?” he asked.

“I definitely love the outdoors. That's why I chose my profession.” That and so she could be by herself. Sexual abuse had a way of making a person antisocial.

“I don't see how anyone can look at God's creations and not believe in Him,” Dal said.

She shrugged. “Maybe God has let them down.”