The Forest Ranger's Promise (17 page)

M
elanie pulled into the yard at Opal Ranch and stared, her fingers gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened. Firefighters dressed in yellow shirts, their faces black with filth, tromped through her fields and corrals. Pumper trucks, crawler tractors, engines and trucks filled the yard as men dug up her hay field to build fire line. Thank goodness Scott had already brought in the hay. He never dawdled and always took such good care of the ranch.

Thinking about him brought a fresh round of tears to dampen her smoke-burned eyes.

The girls sat on the seat and stared toward the meadow, their faces ashen with shock. They'd just watched a wall of fire engulf Scott and seemed to be in a daze.

Shocked with disbelief.

“You girls wait here. Don't move from this spot.” Melanie got out and tried to run to Jim Tippet. She staggered, her legs trembling.

“Jim! Hurry!” She tried to yell, but her voice came out as a soft croak. Her throat burned with smoke.

“Where's Scott?” he asked.

She pointed, unable to contain the sobs shaking her
body. “He's got my tractor there in the south pasture. He…he's trying to build fire line to protect the sheep. He's in danger. Please! Hurry!”

Clouds of smoke billowed around the south road, cutting the pasture off from view. The lambs and Scott were nowhere to be seen. Melanie covered her mouth with one hand, trying to stifle the sobs coming from her throat. Scott and the sheep must have been consumed by fire.

“Please help him.”

Jim must have heard her weak plea as her knees sank beneath her. He caught her, his soot-covered face filled with anguish. “Scott's out there?”

She could only nod.

“Troy!” Jim yelled to another man who came running. “Take Mrs. McAllister and her children up to the house and stay with them. Get them out of here if we aren't able to contain the fire.”

Troy nodded. “Will do.”

Jim lifted his radio to his mouth and called for Scott. “Tippet to Ennison, come in.”

No response.

More urgently. “Tippet to Ennison, do you read me?”

A static void filled the airwaves with nothingness.

Jim headed toward a fire crew. Without breaking stride, he hollered orders. “Get on the phone to Evanston. I want an ambulance and chopper here right now. Don't take no for an answer. You men come with me.”

Troy gathered up Anne and Shelley, doing the best he could to comfort the three sobbing females. Melanie didn't want to leave, but she must think of the girls. She couldn't do anything for Scott, but she could be there for Shelley.

As ordered, Troy led them all to the house, propping
his Pulaski beside the back porch where Melanie refused to go any farther.

“We'll sit here on the porch swing,” she croaked out.

She must have some damage to her lungs. She tried to take a deep breath, to settle her nerves, but ended up coughing. When she gained control again, she spoke to Troy. “Do you have a medic who can look at the children? They breathed in a lot of smoke and I want to make sure they're okay.”

“Sure. I'll be right back.” He gave her a compassionate smile before trotting off to find someone.

Melanie sat on the back porch with Shelley and Anne, the three of them huddled together as they stared toward the south pasture. Melanie wrapped an arm around each girl and they all sobbed quietly.

Inconsolable. The pain was almost too much to bear.

The whap-whap of chopper blades beating overhead brought their heads up. They watched as the chopper flew low in the east, dropping its load of red retardant on the front of the fire. Melanie knew it would slow the progress of the flames so the ground crews could build fire line to protect the Donaldson and Taylor ranches. This wasn't the first wildfire she'd seen during her years as a rancher, but this was the closest she'd come to losing her ranch. And the first time she'd lost someone she loved to fire.

She trembled with shock and grief. She dreaded what the fire crew might find in the south pasture. Once they got over the disbelief, how could she explain to Shelley that her daddy wasn't coming back? How could she understand it herself? Everything had happened so fast, she didn't know what to think.

“It's my fault.” Anne's voice sounded thin with tears. “He promised to protect Opal Ranch and he did. But I didn't think he'd get ki-killed.”

Melanie hugged the girls tighter, barely able to do more than whisper a reply. “It's no one's fault, sweetheart. He was doing his job, fighting to protect all of us.”

“But…but why didn't he…come with us?” Shelley wept.

“He thought he could protect our lambs. He was giving us time to get away safely.”

“Is Daddy dead?” Shelley asked.

“I don't know, sweetie.” It did no good to pretend or to give false hope. Until Jim found Scott's body, Melanie refused to give up hope. Refused to believe such a strong, wonderful man could die so young.

Scott!
Thinking of him brought a renewed ache to Melanie's heart. Tears streamed down her face. She couldn't brush them away. Her hands were busy holding the girls close. Trying to be strong while her entire world crashed down around her head. How could she stand to let Scott go?

“If Daddy dies, I'll be a full dogie. I won't have anyone.” Shelley's voice sounded like a whimper.

“That's not true.” Melanie pressed her damp cheek against the child's.

“You'll always have us,” Anne said.

“That's true,” Melanie agreed. “I love you so much, sweetheart. We want you always, don't we Anne?”

Anne sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve as she nodded. “Sure, we… We're sisters. You can always st-stay with us. Forever.”

“Even if I'm a ranger's kid?”

Anne nodded again. “I didn't mean it. Your dad's not a dirty rotten ranger. He's a rancher like us. Only a real rancher would fight so hard to save his flock.”

“You're wrong, sweetheart. A real ranger fights just as hard,” Melanie added.

In that instant, she realized that she loved Shelley. As much as she loved her own daughter. She couldn't help thinking about Christ's unconditional love for all mankind. A Bible verse in the book of John came to mind.

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

Scott had done this for them. He had been willing to give his own life to save them. To give them time to flee to safety. To keep his promise and protect Opal Ranch.

No! He wasn't dead. He couldn't be. She refused to believe it. Not until she knew for sure.

“Shh,” she soothed the two girls' tears. “Let's just wait until Jim gets back, okay? Maybe your dad is fine and we're worrying for nothing. He knows how to fight wildfire. He's so good at everything he does. Let's just wait.”

Silence overcame them then, but their anguish was palpable. A heavy, hollow emptiness filled Melanie. Common sense told her Scott could not have survived the blaze. And yet, she knew she must have faith. She must trust in the Lord and bend to His will.

She noticed the wind shifted again, blowing toward the south. Taking the stench of smoke with it. How she wished her broken heart could take wing as easily.

“Hey! What's that?” Anne pointed.

Through the haze of smoke shrouding the south road, a group of six men appeared, carrying a stretcher.

“Daddy!” Shelley bolted to her feet.

Melanie held onto the girl, not wanting her to see her father if he was badly burned or dead.

“Let me go! It's Daddy.” The child squirmed to be free.

“Wait a minute, dear. Just wait.”

As the men walked into the yard, Melanie saw a move
ment on the stretcher. A man's hand lifted and clasped Jim Tippet's arm.

Scott! He was alive.

But in what condition? Would he live? Even if he was scarred, Melanie couldn't help but love him with all her heart. She'd take him any way she could get him.

“Scott!” Anne took off at a dead sprint and Melanie could no longer hold Shelley back.

They all ran, pounding down the steps of the porch, racing across the yard like gazelles.

Shelley got there first. She was the fastest.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

The firefighters set the stretcher on the loading dock by the barn, then cleared a path. Jim stood at Scott's head, grinning like a fool as he motioned for the medic.

Melanie stopped, looking at the man she loved.

Scott. He was alive. Here and now. Safe.

His bloodshot eyes were no more than white circles in a black canvas of soot. His eyebrows had been singed off, his hair damp with sweat. Shelley threw herself at him and he grimaced, then flashed a white smile. Anne stood back, smiling with uncertainty.

“Hi, babe.” His voice sounded raw as he greeted his daughter.

Speaking set off a spasm of uncontrollable coughing. Acrid smoke must have burned his lungs and throat. His clothing was covered with soot.

“Real gentle, sweetie.” Jim tugged on Shelley's shoulders so she didn't hurt her father.

“Are all our crews okay?” Scott asked Jim.

“Yes, they're all fine.”

Melanie couldn't believe that Scott's first concern was for his men. Her gaze quickly took in the damage.
Small blisters dotted his face, ears and hands. His dear, calloused hands, which worked and served so willingly.

The burns would soon heal and weren't too serious. But what about his legs?

As an emergency technician examined him, she scanned Scott's limbs, searching for damage. Praying he'd be able to walk again.

He seemed to read her mind, speaking in a harsh whisper. “I'm gonna be fine. I just need some rest and to clear my lungs of smoke.”

To prove his point, he bent his legs and wiggled his feet. His gaze met hers as she leaned against the dock and cupped his blackened cheek with her palm. He reached up and took her hand, drawing it to his mouth where he pressed a long kiss against her knuckles. His eyes closed, as if savoring the kiss. Her heart melted.

“Don't you ever do that again, Scott Ennison. No flock of sheep or building is worth your life. Not to me.” She gazed into his eyes, loving him. Filled with so much joy she could hardly contain it.

“The flock is safe.” His hoarse voice sounded so alien. So different from the rich timbre she adored. “They huddled together in the farthest corner of the pasture and didn't budge. The fire didn't reach them at all, but they may need help with their lungs.”

“We'll get them checked out as soon as we can.”

Shelley flashed a smile at Anne. “Did you hear that? Daddy saved our lambs.”

“Thanks, Scott. Thanks for keeping your promise,” Anne said.

“You're welcome.”

Melanie stepped back, giving the medic room to work. Within ten minutes, they'd moved Scott into the house where they had better access to water. The medic gave
Scott oxygen, then pulled up his sleeve, wrapped a tourniquet around his arm and hooked up an IV of fluids.

“Here, hold this.” The medic handed the IV bag to Jim, then wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Scott's upper arm. He cleaned Scott's more serious wounds, bandaged his hands and put salve on his other burns.

“I'd feel better if that ambulance got here. Maybe I should drive you to Evanston myself,” Jim said.

“In a few minutes, Jim. First, I need to talk to my girls.” Scott's voice sounded stronger, although he continued to cough.

With so many firefighters tromping through her house, Melanie spread old sheets and towels across her furniture and carpets to protect them from being stained. Jim hovered close by with the IV bag as Scott lay on the kitchen table and looked at Melanie and their two daughters. He smelled like burnt popcorn and looked like death warmed over.

“Why did you two go out to the south pasture?” he asked the girls.

Shelley took a shallow breath. “We saw the smoke and wanted to make sure our lambies were okay.”

Melanie shook her head. “But why did you go without telling me?”

“You wouldn't have let us go,” Anne said.

Children thought in such simple terms. If the girls had told Melanie about the smoke, she might have been able to do something sooner.

“We had to check on our lambs,” Anne continued. “Mom told us the story of the Good Shepherd in Sunday school. Jesus left 999 sheep just to go check on one lost lamb.”

“It wasn't quite 999,” Melanie said.

Shelley wrapped her arms around her father and leaned
her cheek against his chest. “We have a whole bunch of sheep to check on, so we figured they were really important.”

Melanie chuckled. What else could she do? If she didn't laugh, she'd cry. “I think you got the gist of the story a bit wrong.”

“They got it right. We've raised two softhearted girls and I wouldn't have it any other way.” Scott's eyes crinkled at the corners, showing thin creases of white flesh where the soot hadn't reached him. “But don't go check your sheep in the middle of a range fire ever again without telling us first. Okay?”

Both girls nodded, their eyes filled with true remorse.

“I'm sorry, Scott.” Anne's eyes filled with tears. “You almost got killed because of your promise to me.”

“No, honey. I almost got killed because I'm a firefighter. This wasn't your fault. In fact, your mother will have to bear most of the blame for my survival.”

“What?” Melanie cocked her head, not understanding. She thought she'd almost caused his death.

“I found myself surrounded by fire and saw no way out. I knew I was about to die. And then I remembered what you'd said about prayer. About the Lord being there for us anywhere, at any time. So I tried it. One last time.”

He coughed long and hard and Melanie wondered if it was because of the smoke or the emotion filling his eyes. She and Jim both reached to help him outside. “We need to get you to the hospital, Scott.”