The Forest Ranger's Christmas (3 page)

Clint had failed to make Karen happy, but he was determined to make a difference for Frank.

“What now? Will you have me arrested anyway?” Frank asked, his bushy brows arched in misery.

Josie gave a sharp inhalation and Clint inwardly cringed. It was bad enough to reveal Frank’s secret without worrying about Josie’s disapproval. At least her concern for her grandfather appeared genuine. But Clint wished once more that she wasn’t here to complicate the issue. Then again, maybe she could help remedy the problem.

“No, you’re not going to jail.” Clint stepped forward and rested a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Frank. You can see now why I thought we should speak in private. I didn’t want to advertise this. I just want to help.”

Frank dragged back one of the chairs before dropping into it. He raked his fingers through his thin white hair, making it stand on end. Josie walked to her grandfather and rubbed his back, offering silent support. The man reached up and patted her hand, then leaned his elbows on the table, looking wilted with defeat.

Josie’s caring gestures confused Clint. She was a beautiful woman, but a bit overbearing and brusque. He remembered the glow of pleasure that permeated Frank’s face whenever he spoke about Josie and her career as a pharmacist. And then Frank’s disappointment when she’d canceled numerous trips home because she was too busy working. Over the years, her absence had hurt Frank and Viola, though they’d never admitted it out loud. Of course, Josie lived in Vegas, a ten-hour drive one way. But since Viola had died, Josie had been coming around more often. At least this year Frank wouldn’t be alone for Christmas.

“Frank, we have a learn-to-read program at the library downtown,” Clint said. “I volunteer there almost every Thursday night. They’re a great support group, but if you don’t like that option, I can come here to your house in the evenings. I’d like to help you learn to read.”

Frank stared at the dingy wall, his mouth taut. “I’m afraid I’m too old to learn, Ranger. It’s too late for me.”

Clint snorted. “No, it’s not. It’s never too late to learn anything. Not if you really try. And stop calling me ranger. We’re good friends and you know my name.”

Clint tried to sound positive, while avoiding Josie’s glare. No doubt she was in shock, finding out the truth like this. Clint had felt the same way when he’d learned his new bride couldn’t read. Having grown up in the poverty of a coal-mining community, Karen had been raised by an abusive stepfather. She’d been almost twenty-three years old before Clint had taught her to read. But even then, she’d never overcome the stigma. Depression had haunted her most of her life. Now, Clint worked at the local library in the learn-to-read program to honor Karen’s memory. Because he’d loved her.

Because he’d failed to save her life.

“My brain doesn’t work good like it used to,” Frank said.

“Your brain works fine, and I’ll prove it to you.” Clint sat across from Frank and met the old man’s gaze with a wide smile. “If you’ll agree to participate in a reading program for just two months, I’ll make the tree permit issue go away. In fact, you and I will deliver your trees to the civic center and hand them out to the widows tomorrow morning. I’ll pick you up at 8:00 a.m. But you’d need to be in the reading program for at least eight weeks. Do we have a deal?” He thrust out his hand.

For several moments, Frank studied his face, as though thinking things over. “Do I have any other choice?”

Clint licked his bottom lip, not wanting to be too forceful. He had no idea what he’d do if Frank refused his offer. He’d probably let the issue drop and still give the trees away to the widows. He certainly wasn’t going to call Officer Tim back to arrest the man. But learning to read would take time. It also could make such a difference in Frank’s life. It could open an entire world. And Clint wanted so much to help.

To redeem himself for failing Karen.

“Everyone has a choice, Frank. Even you,” he said.

“Are there other people that can’t read in the program at the library?”

“Yes, two. Both are members of our congregation. So you already know them. And I’ll bet they’d be happy to see you there, too.”

Frank paused for several moments, as though thinking this over. Finally, he lifted his hand and they shook on it. “All right, I may not be able to read, but I’m no coward. I’ll go to the library.”

A whoosh of air escaped Josie’s lungs. “While I’m here for the holidays, I can help, too. And you’re the bravest man I know, Gramps.”

“I agree,” Clint said.

“So what now?”

Clint stood and turned toward the door, pasting a generous smile on his face. “Now we go to work. I’ll see you in the morning, and then again at the library at seven o’clock next Thursday night.”

Josie nodded, going through the motions of listening. Her vacant look indicated she wished Clint would leave now. And he was ready and willing to oblige her.

Reaching for the doorknob, he paused long enough to bid them farewell. “Have a good evening. And merry Christmas!”

They didn’t respond. A stunned silence filled the air with gloom. Josie stood looking at him like an ice queen, her blue eyes filled with doubt and some other emotion Clint couldn’t quite fathom.

Fear, perhaps?

Clint didn’t ask. As he stepped outside, the frigid air embraced him. It was still early, but darkness mantled the town. Christmas lights gleamed along the neighbor’s houses across the street. Frost formed patterns of lace on the windshield of his truck. He climbed inside and fired up the engine before switching on the defroster. He decided it was quite a bit warmer out here than in Josie’s frigid, glowering presence.

He hadn’t meant to upset the pretty pharmacist, but he had. And for some reason, that bothered Clint intensely.

Chapter Three

T
wo days later, Josie stood with her shopping cart at the back of the only grocery store along Main Street. The place also served as a hardware store. Christmas songs blared over the loudspeaker, but she didn’t hum along. The scent of freshly popped corn filled the air, along with the happy chatter of shoppers. In spite of all this, it still didn’t feel like Christmas. Not to her. Not with Gramps in such a sour mood.

Looking down at her shopping cart, she studied the boxes of colored Christmas lights she’d selected. No matter what Gramps said, she was determined to hang them on his house. After what had happened with the ranger, he needed cheering up.

So did she.

Turning, she perused two fake Christmas trees. The pictures on the outside of the cardboard boxes were quite small and difficult to make out. A Douglas fir covered in heavy white flocking, and a spindly spruce. Both were poor imitations of natural Christmas trees. She could take one home and figure out how to assemble it, she had no doubt. But Gramps wouldn’t like either tree in his living room. And she couldn’t blame him. He’d had a real tree every year of his life and would settle for nothing less.

“You’re Frank’s granddaughter, aren’t you?”

Josie turned. An elderly woman with cottony white hair, too much facial powder, and a merry dimple in each plump cheek smiled up at her.

“Yes, I am.”

The lady’s grin widened as she propped one hand against her thick waist. “I knew it. I’m Thelma Milton, one of Frank’s friends down at the civic center. You and I have met a couple of times, but you probably don’t remember me. I knew your grandma well.”

“Yes, of course I remember. You were at Grandma’s funeral.”

“That’s right. I was sorry to hear about your breakup with your last fiancé.”

Josie tensed. No doubt Gramps had shared the news with all his cronies down at the civic center. The reminder hurt and made her wonder if she was doomed to spend her life as an old maid. How she wished she could meet just one man she could trust. A man who would love her unconditionally for herself.

“Frank told me,” Thelma confessed. “And I say it’s for the best. If a man really loves you, he wouldn’t let a little thing like your work come between you, believe me. A beautiful girl like you deserves better.”

Josie nodded, wishing it was that simple. But she’d rather never marry than end up in an ugly divorce like the one her parents had put her through. Of course, she wasn’t about to discuss her broken relationships with a stranger.

“Yesterday, Frank and the ranger brought me the most beautiful tree. Frank even set it up inside my house.” Thelma batted her eyelashes like a coy girl.

Josie swallowed a choking laugh. For some inane reason, she found the situation quite comical. True to his word, Clint had picked up Gramps and the two of them had driven over to the civic center, where they’d handed out all the confiscated trees. Josie had remained at home, sorting through piles of debris littering Gramps’s house to find the mop bucket and vacuum cleaner. His absence had given her some time to clean house. It had also made Gramps feel better, though the stress of learning to read had settled over him like a fat rain cloud.

“I’m glad you got your tree up,” Josie said, wishing she had a tree for Gramps. Too bad the ranger had confiscated all of the trees he’d cut down.

Thelma stepped closer. “Frank tells me you’re a pharmacist in Las Vegas.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you like your work?”

“Yes, I love it,” Josie answered truthfully. “And as I remember, you own this store.”

Josie showed her most friendly smile. After all, this was one of Gramps’s friends and the woman obviously liked him.

“Yes, I do. Frank is so proud of you. You’re all he talks about. I’m so glad you came home for the holidays. He needs some family around now that Vi’s gone.”

Vi. The name many people used for Viola, Josie’s grandmother.

“I’m happy to be here, too.” The bite of guilt nipped at Josie’s conscience. She should have come to visit more frequently. She missed Grandma so much. And it dawned on her that losing his spouse must have devastated Gramps. He didn’t say a lot about it, but inside, he must still be shattered by grief. Josie didn’t want the end of his life to be sad. She wanted them both to be happy. And Josie wasn’t. Not anymore. Not while she was alone. But so far, she’d failed to find a man willing to commit to her permanently.

“I sure wish we had a pharmacy here in Camlin,” Thelma continued. “I order my prescriptions through the mail. It’s a real pain if they arrive late and I run out of my hormones.”

“I’m sure that could be a big problem.” Josie laughed.

“You could always open up a pharmacy here in my store. I wouldn’t charge a lot of rent,” Thelma offered.

Josie forced herself not to react. Rent wasn’t the issue. Though she’d accumulated a modest savings account, she didn’t have enough capital to stock the shelves with the basic medications people would need. Besides, spending the rest of her life in this one-dog town didn’t appeal to her. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m happy with my job in Vegas.”

“Oh, well. Have a merry Christmas. And give Frank my love.” Thelma blew a sugary kiss before bustling down the aisle, leaving the cloying scent of gardenias in her wake.

“I will.” Josie waved, then stood there and blinked for several moments. If she didn’t know better, she’d think her seventy-eight-year-old grandfather had an admirer.

Josie shook her head. Men her grandfather’s age didn’t have girlfriends. Did they?

Above all else, she wanted Gramps happy. And a fake tree wouldn’t make him happy.

Gazing at her options, Josie realized she took city shopping for granted. Living in Las Vegas, she could pull up to a spacious tree lot and pick out any one she wanted. The mild winters would be easier on Gramps’s arthritis, too. Within minutes, they could visit a doctor and get his prescriptions filled. And she wanted that convenience for Gramps. A balanced diet wouldn’t hurt him, either. She’d almost had a fit when she’d discovered he’d been subsisting on canned soup, potato chips and oatmeal. But how could she ask him to leave his world behind and move away with her?

“Hi, there!”

Josie whirled around. Clint Hamilton stood behind her, holding the hand of a little girl about seven years old with a cute button nose, flawless skin and a long, blond ponytail.

“Um, hi.” Josie met his gaze and smiled uncertainly. Immediate attraction buzzed through her.

His unblinking eyes swept over her. He looked handsome and rustic dressed in a down-filled coat, cowboy boots and brown leather gloves. His gaze dropped away, and she couldn’t help wondering what had produced the wariness in his warm, brown eyes.

She nodded at the melted droplets covering his broad shoulders. “Is it snowing again?”

“Just a dusting, but a storm is coming in later tonight.” He showed a twinge of a smile, his cheeks slightly red from the cold.

“What’s your name?” the little girl asked, her voice hesitant.

Josie’s gaze lowered to the child, who was bundled up in a glistening red coat, matching rubber boots and a white scarf around her neck. She looked adorable. “Jocelyn Rushton. What’s yours?”

“I’m Grace Karen Hamilton, but everyone just calls me Gracie.”

“That’s a lovely name,” Josie said.

“This is my daughter,” Clint supplied the introductions. “Gracie, this is Frank’s granddaughter.”

Understanding lit up the child’s expressive eyes. “Oh, I recognize you. I’ve seen your pictures at Grandpa Frank’s house many times.”

Grandpa Frank? Over the years, Josie had heard other children in town call her grandfather by this name, but it seemed odd to hear it from the forest ranger’s daughter. Obviously, the girl had been inside Gramps’s home. Not surprising. Grandma and Gramps had many friends in this town.

“Is that right?” Josie felt the burden of Clint’s gaze like a leaden weight. For some reason, the ranger made her feel as though he could see deep into her soul. And in all honesty, she feared what he might find there besides a bitter, unlovable woman who was emotionally inaccessible to others.

“Yeah, in his photo albums. He shows his pictures to me all the time. And Grandma Vi used to make me chocolate chip cookies,” Gracie said.

“Ah, I see.” Josie had also loved her grandmother’s homemade cookies. In fact, she planned to make some while she was here. She wanted to bake and decorate and enjoy a slower pace while she could. In Vegas, she didn’t have time for domestic chores, or anyone to cook for.

“I sure miss Grandma Vi,” Gracie continued.

Josie did, too. More than she could say.

“She used to tend me every day while Daddy went to work,” Gracie said.

Josie jerked up her chin in surprise. Why would a woman of Grandma’s advanced age be tending a young child on a regular basis? This revelation gave Josie the strange sensation that she was the outsider, not Gracie and her tall father. “Really? I didn’t know that. She never mentioned it.”

“Yeah, she was my favoritest babysitter ever in the world. I miss her a lot.” No longer shy, Gracie smiled widely, showing a missing tooth in front.

A sinking despair settled in Josie’s stomach. She couldn’t help feeling as though she’d lost something precious when Grandma had died. But one question thrummed through her mind. Why had Grandma never mentioned that she was looking after a child every day?

Once again, Josie realized how little she really knew about her grandparents. Now that Grandma was gone, Josie regretted taking her for granted, and didn’t want to do the same with Gramps. That was all about to change. Josie would have to tell Gramps about her plans to move him to Las Vegas. And soon. But she dreaded it. If he refused, she wouldn’t make him go. And then what? Maybe she’d sit down and talk with him about it tomorrow or the next day. Together, they’d work something out.

“I got a new babysitter now. She’s nice, too, but she doesn’t make cookies like Grandma Vi did,” Gracie said.

“Does your mom work, too?” Josie asked, wondering why the girl’s mother couldn’t watch Gracie during the day. In fact, hadn’t Clint mentioned that he’d taught the woman how to read?

“No, my mom’s in heaven,” Gracie said.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Josie had forgotten Clint was a widower. She glanced his way, wishing she’d been more tactful. She understood firsthand the aching pain of losing people she loved, and didn’t want to remind him.

Clint’s eyes darkened and he shifted his weight uneasily. A guarded look flashed across his face and Josie regretted dredging up the topic.

Gracie shrugged one shoulder. “It’s okay. I never knew my mom. She died when I was just a baby, but Dad says she loved me like crazy.”

The girl slid her hand into her father’s, seeming to take comfort from his presence.

Josie nodded in understanding. “I lost my mom and dad, too.”

Now, why had she told them that? Normally, she kept her personal life to herself. Especially her childhood, which had been anything but happy. A disturbing memory of constant fights between her parents ripped through her mind. Angry words and hateful accusations, followed by her father leaving one rainy night just after Josie’s thirteenth birthday. She’d never seen Dad again. He’d been killed in a car accident a year later. But not once had he called or written her. In fact, no man seemed to want her. First Dad had left, then two ex-fiancé’s. Even Mom had treated her like a burden, and she’d grown up feeling unwanted.

She didn’t want to dwell on those sad times, but they seemed imbedded in her soul. Something about Clint drew out her carefully kept secrets. Right now, she wished she could crawl into a deep hole and hide.

“Yes, I know,” Gracie said. “Grandma Vi told me. She said you and me are kindred spirits because we both lost our moms.”

Grandma had said that? Hmm, surprising, when Josie considered that her mother never cared much for Grandma. Mom hadn’t gotten along well with her in-laws, especially after Dad had died. Now, Josie stared at Gracie, seeing a maturity in the girl’s eyes that was much too advanced for her years.

Kindred spirits. That sounded like something Grandma would have said, but Josie couldn’t equate herself with this little girl. After all, they were almost complete strangers. Yes, Josie understood loss. Her mom had been so busy working three jobs to put food on the table and pay the rent that she’d had little time for her lonely daughter. Growing up, it would have been so easy for Josie to become a rebellious teenager. Instead, she’d found approval through perfection. She’d spent most nights alone, reading books and doing homework. She’d had very few friends, but she’d earned top grades in math, science and chemistry. Seeking the love she so badly craved, she’d won the approval of her teachers. And during college, she’d avoided men and socializing. Nothing had seemed more important to her than school and work.

Until now.

“It’s okay. I still have Daddy,” the girl said.

Clint cleared his throat and glanced at the boxed trees before quirking his brows with amusement. “You need another tree? I would have thought with all the trees Frank cut down that you’d had enough for one Christmas.”

Josie’s face heated with embarrassment. He’d deftly changed the topic and she was relieved, but she hated that he’d caught her buying a fake tree. “Remember, you confiscated all the live trees, so we don’t have one for our own Christmas now.”

“Ah, I see. Well, that won’t do.” Understanding filled his eyes and he sent her a smile of empathy. “Where is Frank, anyway?”

She gave a scoffing laugh, finding the situation sadly funny. “Outside in my car. He refused to come inside to pick out a fake tree. He’s never had anything but a live tree and he’s been grumbling for two days that Christmas is ruined without a real one.”

She could buy a tree permit, but after what had happened the other day, she’d rather avoid the Forest Service office at all costs. She didn’t want to take another chance on Gramps being arrested. Also, she had no desire to navigate the winter roads up into the mountains to cut another tree.

“We’re going to cut our tree right now. Daddy needs to buy a new hand saw first.” Gracie spoke in a tone that indicated a real tree was the only way to go.