The Forest Ranger's Promise (10 page)

“Yeah, right. We've heard that before,” Frank snapped.

Scott nodded once, letting his gaze pierce Frank to the core. “I mean what I say.”

Frank scoffed and cynicism laced his tone. “And how long will it take you to get this water trough put in? We've been waiting eight years now.”

Scott braced himself. Finally he had a jump on the man. This was the fun part and he planned to enjoy every bit of his surprise. “It just so happens that I've already lined up a D7 dozer with a pipe layer and the crew is working on the springhead right now.”

Dead silence filled the room. Scott waited, letting his words sink in.

“You mean you've already started the work?” Marty's voice sounded skeptical.

“That's right.” Scott inwardly laughed with delight. He'd caught them off guard, doing work before they asked him for it. He'd planned it this way so they would see that he was serious about helping them all he could.

Frank's mouth dropped open and he stared with disbelief. “Your crew is already working at Three Creek.”

A statement, not a question. Why wouldn't they believe him?

“Yes,” Scott said. “I inspected their work myself just yesterday. The D7 will be here on Monday morning, so they'll start to make more progress then. Later, we'll have a pad prepared for a cement slab and we'll put in the water trough.”

“But…but you—?” Frank sputtered.

“The work should be finished within four weeks,” Scott hurried on. “I'm sorry it can't be done sooner, but we'll need time to bury the pipe and let the cement slab dry before we can bring the water down from the creek.”

Marty shook his head. “I can't believe it.”

Scott didn't smile. He wanted to teach these people that when he said something, he meant it. He wouldn't joke about something this important. “Why don't you ride out to Three Creek and take a look for yourself? I'd be happy to give you a tour of the project.”

Frank sat down, a big woof of air escaping his chest. The dumbfounded glare on his face remained. When his wife leaned in to whisper in his ear, he brushed her away impatiently and rested his clenched hands on his thighs.

Whew! Thank goodness Donaldson was cowed for the time being. Scott was not a small man, but he had no desire to tangle with Frank's beefy fists.

“Now I have a request for you ranchers.” Scott paused, hoping to gain their attention. “Many of your cattle are moving into the creeks and just staying there. They're destroying the creek bottoms. You need to move your cattle periodically so they don't permanently damage the creeks. My staff will be checking the creek beds to make sure this is done, so I'll expect you to take care of it.”

Frank popped back out of his seat with a roar; not an easy feat for such a big man. “We can't go in and round up our cattle and move them every day.”

Frank was being difficult for no reason. Scott had made a reasonable request. A request that would benefit everyone. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to speak calmly in the face of Frank's belligerence. “Mr. Donaldson, you won't have to go in very often to move your cattle. Once every few days should help, if you place your salt correctly. I would like to ride out with you to see where we think the salt should be laid. Can we set that up in the next week?”

“That's not an unreasonable request, Frank,” Marty said. “You send your sons out to check on your cattle
every few days anyway. We all do. It's nothing to move our cattle out of the creek beds so they aren't ruined. We can put our salt away from the creeks so the cattle will move.”

The glower on Frank's face darkened. Scott could tell this man didn't like being told what to do by anyone. Period. It might take a great deal of time to win Donaldson over, if ever.

“Mr. Donaldson?” Scott wanted a commitment from the man. Right now.

“All right,” Donaldson growled.

“Good. My office manager will contact you to set it up.” Deep down, Scott knew it was in his best interest to ignore the man's foul temper. Although he could certainly handle the fact that the Donaldsons had refused to sell groceries to him, he didn't want Melanie hurt in the process. He didn't understand why he felt so protective of her and Anne, but he did. He could easily retaliate against the Donaldsons if he liked. Scott had the power to make Donaldson's life miserable, but Scott wasn't a vindictive man. He didn't want to make enemies. He wanted to defuse all the anger the past ranger had stirred up. Scott's reputation depended on his success.

“And one more request.” Scott hesitated. “You sheep ranchers need to keep your herds moving along the roadway leading up to your allotments. All our permittees use the driveway and it's being overgrazed. Don't let your bands of sheep linger there. The Forest Service will be patrolling the driveway to help you keep your sheep moving.”

Patrolling
was a better word than
policing.
Scott didn't want to be hard-nosed, but he needed to let the
sheep ranchers know they could no longer overgraze the driveway the way they had in the past.

The conversation continued as they resolved other, simpler issues. Some of the ranchers appeared willing to give Scott a chance to prove himself. Others, like Frank Donaldson, could be belligerent, critical and nasty. It would take longer to win them over.

By the time everyone left, it was ten o'clock and Scott felt drained of energy. He began stacking chairs to put them away before he went to pick up Shelley. No doubt she had fallen asleep. He'd get her tucked into bed and then make plans for tomorrow's workday. He also needed to move sprinkler pipe for Melanie tomorrow night and start preparing to mow her hay.

He sighed, weary to the bone.

As he turned, Melanie caught his eye, still sitting at the back of the room. Anne lay asleep on the floor, her jacket scrunched beneath her head for a pillow.

Melanie stood and met him halfway across the room. He put his hands in his pants pockets to keep from reaching out and hugging her. “Hi…I didn't know you were still here.”

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you before I went home.” Her smile stole his breath. He sure needed a friend right now.

“What about?” he asked.

“I have my own grazing problem, but I decided to wait until everyone else was gone before I addressed it with you.”

“What? No yelling at me?” He chuckled.

She gave a shy smile. “Of course not. Unless you're Nina Donaldson. I'm sorry about that. She really got under my skin tonight. Yelling isn't usually my style.”

Thank goodness. The longer he knew this woman, the more he admired her. He leaned one shoulder against the wall, looking down at her, enjoying the pretty pink flush on her face. “So what can I help you with, Mrs. McAllister?”

“My herder is bedding our sheep in one place too often so the land is being overgrazed. We need more bedding grounds.”

Her honesty intrigued him. Most ranchers waited for him to notice that they were abusing the land before they stopped. Maybe she really did care about preserving the land for her daughter to use when she was grown up.

“How about if we lay crushed salt out so your sheep will be on it before they start grazing in the mornings? You can haul the salt in on pack animals and lay it down in different places to draw your sheep to new bedding grounds. They'd naturally gravitate to where you want them to go.”

Her eyes brightened. “That would definitely work. My herder can put the salt out after we find some suitable places.”

“Absolutely. I can help you find some good places next week.” He smiled wide, anticipating riding with her up on the mountain. He breathed deeply of her warm, clean scent and wished he dared touch the long, soft strands of hair framing her face.

“And just one more problem.”

“Yes?” he prodded.

“Coyotes. They're bad this year. You already know about the grizzly, but coyotes are bad all year long.”

“I know. After my run-in with the bear, I contacted the State Game and Fish Department to see if they can help us with the problem.”

“And?”

He shrugged. “They said they'd see what they could do. But don't worry. I've called them three times now. I figure if I nag them often enough, they'll get tired of me and come do something about it just to shut me up.”

She laughed, the sound musical to his ears.

“Can I walk you out?” he asked as she turned and headed toward Anne.

“Sure.”

Without being asked, he lifted Anne and carried the girl outside. The warm night air smelled of honeysuckle. The single porch light over the doorway of the town hall showed them the way and he enjoyed the view as Melanie hurried ahead to unlock her truck. Lucky for him, Anne didn't wake up as he slid her onto the front seat, then backed away while Melanie buckled the girl in and closed the door.

“You handled the ranchers surprisingly well tonight,” she told him.

He took a step closer, her praise pleasing him enormously. “I did?”

“Yes, very well. Thanks again for everything.”

“You're welcome.” Another step and he wished he could—

“See you tomorrow.”

She brushed past him and he opened the door for her. She climbed inside before closing the door and starting the engine.

Scott stood back while she pulled out of the gravel parking lot. He watched until her taillights faded. A lonely feeling enveloped him. How he wished he dared ask Melanie out on a date, like real grown-ups. But he'd seen how
Nina had attacked Melanie and he didn't want to give her any more trouble than she already had.

He shook his head. It was time for him to forget the pain of his divorce. Time for him to get on with his life. No matter how busy he was, he never got over the emptiness in his heart. But he needed to focus on Shelley and his career. Nothing else must distract him from those goals.

Tonight had been successful. He had listened to the ranchers' concerns and offered reasonable solutions. Now he needed to go to work. He planned to meet with his assistants and crewmen first thing in the morning to make more assignments.

If he didn't keep his promises, he'd lose all his credibility with the ranchers. And with Melanie. It was that simple.

O
n Sunday morning, Melanie arrived early at church so she could set out some pictures for her Sunday school class lesson. Anne helped her, placing a picture of the Savior on a small tabletop easel.

“I want to show Shelley my new dress. You think she'll be here today?” Anne ran a hand over the skirt of her dainty blue dress. She'd insisted that Melanie curl her hair the night before and pull it back with a matching ribbon this morning. Melanie was pleased to see how hard her daughter was trying to act like a refined young lady instead of a rough tomboy. More and more, she believed having Shelley around was good for her daughter.

“You look beautiful, but I doubt she'll be here. Maybe we should invite her again.” So far, Scott had ignored Melanie's offers to pick up Shelley and bring her to church with them. She'd invited him to come along, but he always made some gruff excuse.

“Her dad won't let her come,” Anne grouched.

“That doesn't mean we should stop trying. The Lord loves all His children.”

“Even forest rangers?”

Melanie hid a chuckle. “Especially forest rangers. It
can't be easy for Scott and Shelley, living here in Snyderville where they don't have many friends. But Scott's working hard to prove himself to everyone. You should give him some credit for that.”

Anne's brow furrowed with thought. Melanie couldn't help remembering the rancher meeting when Scott had stood up and helped find resolutions to some of their grazing problems. He hadn't accepted all the responsibility, but patiently demanded that the ranchers do their part. She'd been impressed by his knowledgeable concessions. And later, when he'd walked her out to her truck, she'd found herself thinking that he was the most handsome man she'd ever—

Enough of that!

Gathering her papers and a roll of tape, she urged Anne toward the door. “Come on, sweetie. We'd better get into the chapel before the meeting starts.”

They hurried to find a bench where they sat alone. Nina Donaldson sat playing the organ and soft music filtered over the air, setting the stage for reverence.

As the meeting was about to start, the discordant sound of Nina skipping several notes alerted Melanie that something was wrong. She looked over her shoulder as Scott and Shelley Ennison walked into the chapel and took a seat in a back pew. The murmur of people went deathly quiet. Everyone turned to stare at Scott and his daughter.

Looking as confident as ever, he smiled and nodded to several people before he crossed his long legs. He dropped an arm over Shelley's shoulders, a protective gesture that only Melanie might detect. Not seeming to care if she wrinkled her pink taffeta dress, Shelley leaned against her father's side and hid part of her face against his pinstriped suit. Her blue eyes widened as she looked at all
the people staring at her and Scott. She didn't seem to have her father's confidence. In that moment, Melanie's respect for Scott increased. How did he have the fortitude to sit calmly in the face of so many glares of anger? In the house of the Lord, no less.

He was an outsider here. He didn't belong. And yet, she wanted him here. She couldn't wait to see his truck pull up out front of her house. To talk to him. To be near him. To know he was there for her whenever she was so tired she could barely stand the thought of going outside to move another sprinkler pipe.

He looked handsome in a pristine white shirt and red tie, his black hair slightly damp and slicked back with gel. In place of his scuffed cowboy boots, he wore shiny, black wingtips. Melanie had never seen him dressed in anything other than a ranger uniform or blue jeans. Even then, he'd been a startlingly handsome man. But now, with his lean cheeks freshly shaven, and a gleam in his eyes, he looked like he'd just walked off the pages of a glossy magazine cover.

One thought pounded Melanie's mind. What was he doing here? Why had he come? He'd made it clear that he had no time for the Lord. Surely he hadn't had a change of heart so soon. Maybe he didn't really mean what he'd said about abandoning God. Maybe—

Anne nudged her as the congregation began to sing a hymn. Realizing that she was staring, Melanie whirled around and faced front. She'd completely missed the announcements and the chorister standing up to lead the music.

Sharing a hymnal with her daughter, she went through the motions of singing. What on earth was the matter with her? She couldn't explain her interest in Scott. He was a
curiosity because he was the ranger—that was all. Her attraction to the man couldn't run deeper than that.

Or could it?

Following the meeting, she planned to welcome Scott to church, but he disappeared. In her Sunday school classroom, she hid her surprise when Shelley walked in with Anne.

“Welcome, Shelley.” Melanie smiled. “Did your father go to the adult class?”

Shelley shrugged. “I think so.”

“Hey! She's not gonna be in our class, is she?”

Melanie glanced at Bart Donaldson. A small replica of his burly father, Bart was also Frank and Nina's youngest son. The baby of the family. And spoiled rotten.

It never occurred to Melanie that Shelley might not be accepted at church. Wasn't this the one place where all God's children should be welcomed?

“Bart, don't stand on the chair. Get down right now. Of course Shelley's in our class.” Melanie faced the entire class of eleven children and silently groaned. Keeping this many ten-and eleven-year-olds reverent while she tried to teach them about the Savior might prove challenging. “Children, I want you all to welcome Shelley Ennison to our class. She's new in town and we're happy to have her here.”

“No, we're not.” Bart wrinkled his nose. “Something smells like…like the Forest Service.”

He sniffed the air with repugnance, turning toward Shelley. “Yuck! It's you. You stink.”

Shelley's eyes filled with tears and she sniffed her pretty dress, as if to verify what the boy said. “I took a bath last night. I don't stink.”

Her voice quivered with uncertainty.

“Yes, you do. You stink like the Forest Service. Smelly Shelley!”

“That's enough, Bart! Don't call names,” Melanie said.

The damage was done. The other children burst into laughter, pointing and yelling. “Smelly Shelley! Smelly Shelley!”

Shelley burst into tears, hiding her eyes behind her hands. This distressed Anne, who rarely held back what she was thinking. The girl whirled around and faced Bart.

“Knock it off, Bart. No one smells worse than you,” Anne said. “I've never seen you walk through a corral yet without stepping in a cow pie, even if there's only one cow pie for a mile around. You always seem to find it.”

“I do not,” Bart snapped back.

“Do, too!”

“That's enough!” Melanie demanded as she grasped Bart by the arm and gently pulled him down into a sitting position. “You will all sit still and not say one more word, or I will send you out to join your parents. Understood?”

That shut up Bart and the other kids. Nina Donaldson hated the forest ranger, but she claimed she was a religious woman and Melanie doubted she'd take kindly to her son getting booted out of Sunday school class for calling names. Of course, if Nina knew it was because Bart had teased the ranger's daughter, the woman might make an exception. Melanie wasn't sure what to think at this point. She did know that she would not accept such behavior in her class.

Melanie wrapped her arm around Shelley and pulled her close. “I need a helper today. Will you hold up the pictures for me, sweetheart?”

Shelley sniffled, rubbed her wet eyes and sat between Melanie and Anne.

Melanie had prepared a lesson about faith, but figured these kids needed something else today. Instead, she said a silent prayer asking the Lord for help, then launched into a sweet message about the Good Samaritan and accepting others. Luckily, she had a picture of the Good Samaritan in her lesson box to give Shelley to hold up.

Bart glared the entire time, his arms folded across his wide chest, his bottom lip curled with repugnance. At least he didn't trouble Shelley anymore, but Melanie was careful to keep the girl beside her and Anne until after class ended. Then she gathered up her lesson materials and walked with the girls outside to find Shelley's dad. Bart wasn't above getting into a fistfight at church, and Melanie planned to deliver Shelley safely to her father before leaving her alone.

Shelley gazed up at her as their heels tapped against the cement walk path. “Melanie, why don't the other kids like me?”

“They don't know you. Sometimes people are scared of people they don't know.”

“You mean like the Good Samaritan?” she asked.

“Exactly. That's why some people refused to help the man from Jerusalem. They were afraid, but it was more than that. Samaritans believed it was unclean for them to touch a man from Jerusalem.” When Shelley furrowed her brow in confusion, Melanie tried her best to explain. “You see, most people of Samaria hated people from Jerusalem. But the Good Samaritan helped his neighbor, knowing he could be ostracized by his own people for doing so.”

“What's ostrich sized?”

Melanie laughed. “Ostracized. The people of Samaria could have sent the Good Samaritan away for helping a
man from Jerusalem. He normally wouldn't have had anything to do with a man from Jerusalem. The Samaritan and his family might have ended up starving to death for what he did. So he took a big chance by helping out.”

“But why'd he do it?” Shelley probed.

“Because he was obeying a greater law. The law of Christ, which says everyone is our neighbor and we are each our brother's keeper.”

“Even if we don't like them?” Anne interjected.

“Absolutely.”

“So we should give our enemy food if the general store refuses to sell them groceries?” Shelley said.

“Yes, honey. If that's what it takes. The Lord requires us to forgive all men and to love our enemies.” Tears pricked the backs of Melanie's eyes as she recounted the deep meaning of the story. She'd never considered herself a Good Samaritan, but she realized Scott and Shelley were her neighbors, too. She believed God expected her to care for them all she could, in spite of their being natural enemies.

A testament to God's love for all mankind burned deep within her heart. She didn't consider Scott her enemy; helping him was the right thing to do, even though she could be ostracized by others within her community.

“Bart's a twit. Don't you let him worry you one bit,” Anne said with disgust.

“Anne, remember I spoke to you about name calling?” Melanie reminded him.

“But I didn't think that included twits like Bart.”

“It includes everyone,” she said.

As they walked to the parking lot, Melanie listened to the swish of Shelley's taffeta dress and took a deep, settling breath. What a workout! She felt as though she had just wrestled a bear, physically and emotionally. When
she came to church today, she never expected to learn such an important lesson. But she needed to set an example for her class. She felt in awe of Christ's teachings. Who would have thought a Sunday school class of ten-and eleven-year-olds would teach her so much?

“Why'd you let Bart push you around like that?” Anne directed her question at Shelley.

“I…I don't—” Confusion crossed Shelley's delicate features.

Anne leaned closer, as if sharing some special information. “My dad always said you have to stand up to bullies. Don't let Bart push you around or he'll figure he's allowed to do it and make your life miserable.”

Melanie smiled, grateful that some things Aaron had said to their daughter were valuable life lessons. How odd that Aaron had been so intimidating, yet he'd taught their daughter to stand up for herself. Melanie couldn't help wondering how long before Anne would have become cowardly and shy if her father had started slapping her around.

Shelley was a gentle soul and Melanie hated that the girl was learning some difficult lessons, but decided not to reprimand Anne for pointing these things out. Life was hard and it would do Shelley some good to learn to toughen up a bit, especially since her father was in a difficult line of work that might continue to bring censure from others.

“Do you see your dad?” she asked.

Both Shelley and Anne craned their heads, searching the parking lot for some sign of Scott.

“There he is.” Anne pointed.

Scott had been talking with one of the men. When he saw them, Melanie's throat constricted. The sight of
him sauntering toward them in his pristine suit stole her breath.

“Hello, ladies,” he greeted them all with a wide smile, his blue eyes sparkling. “You're looking beautiful this Sabbath morning, Mrs. McAllister.”

The rich timbre of his voice sent waves of warmth up Melanie's spine. His gaze moved over her flower-print dress and open-toed high heels. She'd painted her toenails light pink and he stared at them for several heartbeats. Melanie shivered.

Anne hung back, but at least the hatred had left her eyes. Maybe today's lesson had sunk in. Maybe she was getting used to Scott and learning to trust him.

Melanie forgot to breathe. She was still woman enough to know when a man found her attractive and she couldn't help feeling pleased by his greeting. “Did you enjoy your church meetings?”

“They were okay. How are you, hon?” He rested his hand on Shelley's shoulder and met her eyes.

Melanie's heart sank. Now that he had finally come to church, she had hoped to see more enthusiasm in him.

“Daddy, they said I stink and called me Smelly Shelley,” the girl said.

Scott frowned down at her. “Who did?”

Melanie explained, making sure he knew she hadn't approved and had put an immediate stop to the teasing. “I'm sorry, Shelley. Don't you listen to such nonsense. You're always welcome in my class.” She tilted her head to look up at Scott. “In fact, Shelley was my big helper today. She held up the pictures and got out the pencils and paper for the other kids.”