The Forest Ranger's Promise (7 page)

“What's a big idiot?” Shelley asked.

Melanie laughed. “It's pronounced bi-got. And it's someone who is intolerant of other people simply because of their profession.”

“Is that why the store doesn't want to sell my dad groceries? Because they're a bigot?”

“I'm afraid so, and it means the same as a big idiot, so you can say it either way.”

“But why don't they like Daddy? He's an awfully nice man.”

“You and I know that, but they think he's bad, just like the previous ranger who used to live here.”

“Oh.” Confusion replaced the hurt in Shelley's eyes. She didn't understand. Neither did Melanie. And she didn't want to try and explain it, either.

“I'll tell you what. I'll talk to your father about it when he comes to pick you up in a couple of hours and then you can ask him all the questions you want. But right now, let's forget about it and go get our ice cream cones. Okay?”

“Okay.” Shelley nodded, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

They all ate their ice cream in silence as Melanie drove them home. By the time they returned to Opal Ranch and put the groceries away, their fun afternoon had dissipated into disappointment. Even the lambs couldn't make Shelley smile. The girl watched the clock, biting her fingernails, waiting for Scott to pick her up.

While she mucked out a corral, Melanie tried to forget the glare of that pink sign blazing across her memory. Tried to forget the deep hurt in Shelley's eyes. After all, this wasn't Melanie's problem. Scott was a strong man and he'd deal with the Donaldsons. She didn't care where he went to buy his groceries. It didn't matter to her at all.

Yeah, and sheep could fly.

 

“Daddy!” Shelley burst through the screen door and ran down the front porch as he walked past the hollyhocks to Melanie's house.

“Oof!” Scott absorbed the tight hug from his daughter,
caught off guard. What had gotten into her? He couldn't remember the last time she had hugged him this often. Staying at the McAllisters' house was definitely good for her. “Hey, munchkin. Did you have a good day?”

“Kinda, but then we went into town and there was a sign at the grocery store.”

She told him all about it as he walked with her to the house. He listened intently, feeling a flush of anger prickle his skin. The Donaldsons refused to sell him any groceries. He couldn't believe it.

“Why don't they like us, Dad?”

What could he say when he didn't know the answer? “I don't know, honey. I think they're afraid of me.”

“But why? You wouldn't hurt them.”

Her faith in him touched his heart. “No, I wouldn't do anything to purposefully hurt them.”

Melanie greeted them at the door, concern filling her eyes. As she indicated a chair in the living room, he waved at Anne, who frowned and quickly slipped out the back door. He sat down, listening while Shelley poured out the story. Melanie didn't say a word, just stood leaning against the bookcase, her gaze pinned on Shelley's animated face.

“We'll starve if they don't let us buy groceries, Dad. What will we eat?” Shelley's voice rose to a shrill tone. This had frightened her and he didn't like it at all.

Scott reached out and cupped her cheek, looking directly into her eyes. “Honey, I know I'm not much of a cook, but have I ever let you go hungry—even once?”

She shook her head. A fat tear rolled down her cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb.

“And will you trust me when I tell you that we'll always have plenty of food to eat in our house?”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

She gave a hesitant nod. He was conscious of Anne standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her arms folded as she listened intently.

More than anything, he wanted his child to believe in him. And it occurred to him then that he wasn't just fighting for the confidence of the local ranchers. He was also fighting for the trust of his daughter.

No matter what happened from this point on, he resolved to be strong for both of them. “And will you trust me if I tell you that everything's gonna be okay and I won't let anything bad happen to us?”

Another nod and tremulous smile. “Yes, Daddy. I trust you.”

So maybe that rotten sign at the grocery store had been worth it, just to bring out Shelley's loyalty and trust. “Okay, then. Why don't you wait for me by the truck and I'll be right out after I've had a moment to talk to Melanie.”

Wiping her eyes, Shelley smiled and trotted outside with Anne. Scott watched the girls go, seriously contemplating his options. He fought off the temptation to drive directly to the Sheriff's Office and demand that the single law enforcement officer in this region put a stop to this nonsense. But what good would filing a complaint do? Obviously, the Donaldsons wanted a fight and he wasn't about to give it to them.

“You saw the sign?” he asked Melanie.

“Yes, it was there.”

He stood up to go, mentally making a list of the cans and boxes of food in his pantry at home. “I think we can make it until Saturday and then I'll have to make a trip into Evanston.”

“And?” Melanie said.

“And what?”

“You're not going to do anything about it?”

“Like what?”

“It's illegal, Scott. They can't do this.”

“I know, but a big fight is the last thing I need right now. I'll have to shop in Evanston for the time being. But if I show up on your doorstep asking for a cup of sugar or a glass of milk, you'll understand why.”

“You can't drive into Evanston every time you need a cube of butter.”

He shrugged. “We'll have to do without a few things now and then, but we'll get by. I've faced worse situations in my life.” Including times when his father had drunk up all the money so they couldn't buy groceries at all. He'd helped his mother grow large gardens, shucking corn and shelling peas, which she canned and put in the pantry. He'd learned to hide a few dollars when he had it, so they could buy milk. He couldn't remember a time when he didn't have a part-time job after school to help support the family.

“And what about other times?” Melanie asked.

“What do you mean?”

She stepped closer and looked up at him, her intense gaze holding him captive. He caught her scent, a combination of baked bread and fruity shampoo. He couldn't decide which he liked best.

“What about when Shelley starts school in the fall? Are you prepared for the other children to tease her and the teachers to treat her a bit roughly?”

He clenched his hands. “Anyone who treats my little girl badly will have to answer to me.”

And he meant it. He could handle whatever anyone threw at him, but he would never tolerate anyone picking on Shelley simply because of his job.

“Do you have a problem watching her?” he asked.

She must have caught the brusque anger in his voice, because she visibly flinched. He didn't mean to frighten her, but right now he was furious. If she wanted to back out on their deal, he needed to know. Could he trust her to treat Shelley with kindness? Just how deep did her resentment toward Ben Stimpson go?

“Of course not, Scott,” she reassured him. “Before we drove into town, the girls were happy. They work and play well together and get along just fine, except for—” She bit her bottom lip.

“Except for me.”

She nodded. “Shelley's a sweet girl, Scott. I agreed to watch her as long as the two girls got along well and I meant it. I see no need for Shelley to leave. And you can rest assured that I'll treat her well while she's in my care.”

“I'm very aware that Anne doesn't like me. Why doesn't she dislike Shelley, too?”

She scrunched one shoulder up to her ear. “I can't explain it, but Anne seems to have taken Shelley under her wing. Last night she told me they are kindred spirits because they're both half dogies.”

His mouth twitched. “Shelley mentioned something about that.”

“Yeah…because both girls are missing one of their parents, they've decided that makes them half dogies.”

He smiled; he couldn't help it. “Doesn't that beat all? It'd be funny if it weren't so sad.”

“I know. I wish more than anything that I could give Anne a loving father.”

“I feel the same way about Shelley. I tried everything I could think of to make my marriage with Allison work,
but she came to hate me for the very same reason Anne doesn't like me. Because I'm a ranger.”

And then he asked the question that had been haunting him since he met this woman up on the lonely mountain. “Do you hate me, too?”

“Of course not. Don't be silly.” She didn't hesitate, which he took for honesty.

Relief flooded Scott's heart and he couldn't explain why it meant so much to him that Melanie liked him. He knew he liked her, but that was as far as he was prepared to take their relationship. He had to put Shelley's needs first and already they were in a difficult predicament.

“I don't hate anyone, although I do hate certain things,” she said.

“Such as?”

“Alcohol.”

He held her gaze. “We have that in common.”

“I won't tolerate the stuff in my house ever again. I loved my husband, but I don't miss his drinking. Not after all the pain he caused us in the past with—”

She didn't finish her statement, as if realizing she had confided too much. Scott understood the passionate tone of her voice. He remembered feeling much the same way; he'd missed his father after he'd died and yet Scott had been relieved that Dad was gone, too. Life had been difficult after Dad's death, but at least they didn't have to fear being woken up in the middle of the night to a harsh beating. It didn't make sense, loving and hating someone simultaneously. He figured anyone who'd lived with an alcoholic would understand.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “My father was an alcoholic when he died. It caused enough sadness in my life when I was young that it cured me of drinking, even socially.”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “I didn't know. Our girls
do
have a lot in common. If not for the Lord, I don't know how I'd still be hanging on.”

He found it difficult not to snort with disgust. Instead, he looked away, hoping to hide his skeptical expression. She caught his cynicism anyway.

“You don't believe in God?” she asked.

“Yeah, but the Lord and I don't have much time for each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let's just say we leave each other alone.”

A tolerant smile softened her face. “You sound rather cynical. God never abandons any of us. He's just a prayer away. It's usually us who pull away from Him.”

What could Scott say to that without offending her? He decided to play it safe and bit his tongue, breathing a sigh of relief when she didn't push the issue.

“Our girls have become fast friends. I don't want to let what happened in town ruin that for them.”

He agreed. “I'm hoping to show Anne that I'm not the ogre she thinks I am.”

He tensed, awaiting her reaction. Except for Jim and Karen, Melanie had become his only ally in Snyderville and he hated to lose their tentative friendship. What if Melanie got scared off by the censure from the other ranchers? He didn't know what he'd do if she refused to provide child care for Shelley.

“Don't worry, Scott. I can handle this. I was just caught off guard. I'll restructure my schedule so I can protect Shelley better on shopping day. Nina never works on Saturdays, so I'll do my shopping then.”

Her loyalty touched him deeply. He couldn't help resenting Allison for not being here to help protect their
daughter. Melanie had shown more generosity toward Shelley than the girl's own mother.

If he were honest, he would confess that he expected Melanie to break their business deal. After all, his problems weren't her problems. She had her hands full running her ranch. Seeing the kindly light in her eyes and hearing her words of comfort reassured him as nothing else could. Both he and Shelley needed the McAllisters right now. Badly.

“Thanks, Mel. I appreciate it more than I can say.”

She walked him to the door. As she waved goodbye, he looked over and saw Anne sitting on the porch swing watching him. He could count on Melanie, but he wasn't so sure about Anne. The girl seemed to genuinely like Shelley. It was him she disliked so vehemently. And he had no doubt Melanie would put Anne first. If he became too big a problem, Melanie would need to curtail their tentative friendship. Scott couldn't blame her. He'd do the same thing for Shelley. He just hoped it didn't come to that.

When he'd accepted this job assignment, he hadn't realized how difficult things might get. He didn't like being a pariah in town. If only he could prove everyone wrong. If only he could show them that he was a friend, not a foe.

He'd get his chance soon enough, at the ranchers' meeting he'd scheduled. From what Melanie had told him, every rancher would be there. If he was a praying man, he'd ask God for help. But he hadn't prayed since the week before Allison left him, and he didn't want to start now.

O
n Friday evening, Scott arrived to pick up Shelley and stayed to work for a couple of hours. He wore a plain cotton shirt that matched the crystal blue of his eyes. Melanie exhaled slowly, grateful he'd changed out of his ranger uniform. She chuckled when she imagined what Frank and Nina Donaldson would say if they saw him out in her hay fields moving sprinkler pipe.

“You sure you know what to do?” she asked as he braced one hand on the top rail and hopped the fence with ease.

“Yep.” He didn't comment further as he reached back for Shelley to assist her as she straddled the fence. When he reached to help Anne, the little girl backed away, her eyes narrowed. Scott didn't push the issue. He dropped his hand to his side, then turned and walked toward the main water valve.

Melanie had turned off the water an hour earlier so the pipes would drain and be less cumbersome to move. She stood leaning against the splintered fence, shading her eyes from the afternoon sunshine. Staring after him as he ambled away, she couldn't help but admire his muscular physique. He seemed self-assured on a ranch, but
did he really know what to do? Uncertainty filled Melanie for a few moments until he unhooked the outlet, then headed for the little gas-driven engine. After turning it on, he started moving each giant wheel sprinkler into a nice, straight line. Yep, he knew what he was doing. She'd check back later to make sure that he rehooked the flexible pipe and turned the water back on.

Shelley trotted after her father, but Anne stayed behind with Melanie.

“You don't want to help move the sprinklers?” Melanie asked as she walked to the barn.

Anne pursed her lips together and shook her head.

“You know, you're not being very fair to Scott,” she observed.

“I don't know why you're nice to him. Dad wouldn't like it.” Without letting her mom respond, Anne raced out of the barn and ran into the house.

This was getting out of hand.

Melanie threw hay to the horses, finished filling the water trough, then headed to the house. Inside the back porch, she pulled off her boots before walking in her stocking feet to Anne's bedroom. The door was closed and she rapped softly with her knuckles.

No answer.

She opened the door just a bit and peeked in. Her daughter sat on her bed glaring across the room.

“Go away!” Anne whirled about and lay down, burying her face against a pillow.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk.” The bed bounced softly as Melanie sat on the edge and reached out to caress Anne's back. The girl jerked away, yanking the pillow over the top of her head.

This wasn't going to be easy.

“Anne, I didn't realize you felt so strongly about this.”

“Well, I do.” Anne's voice sounded muffled and filled with emotion.

“I'm sorry. I should have talked to you before I agreed to watch Shelley. If you don't want the Ennisons here, I'll send them away. We'll get by somehow.”

Anne rolled over and the pillow lowered just enough for Melanie to see her daughter's big, tear-filled eyes. “You'd do that for me?”

“Of course, sweetie. You're more important to me than anything else in the world right now. I love you so much and I don't want to do anything that might cause you more pain. If you don't want Shelley here, I'll talk to her father tonight and he'll have to find another place for Shelley to spend her days.”

Anne hugged the pillow to her chest, her suntanned arms so spindly and frail. It'd be so easy to hurt her, which made Melanie even more protective of her.

“But I like Shelley. She's my only friend and a half dogie like me.”

A half dogie. Melanie blinked against the burn of tears. Her heart ached for what her daughter had endured this past year. Losing the father she loved had left a hollow space in the girl's heart. It made Melanie's guilt that much worse. What Christian woman was glad her husband was gone? How she wished she could ease the hurt in both their lives, but she couldn't seem to find a way. Only hope and God brought Melanie solace anymore.

“We can't keep Shelley without Scott being here sometimes,” Melanie said. “He's Shelley's dad and he has to drop her off and pick her up.”

“But why'd you make this agreement with him in the first place?”

Good question. Melanie didn't fully understand it herself. She'd felt compelled to agree to the arrangement. As if the hand of God were guiding her. “Because they need us. Without us, Shelley would have nowhere to go during the daytime when her dad is at work.”

Anne lowered her head, thinking this over. “And I suppose we need them, too.”

Ah, her sweet daughter was so wise. Too wise for one so young. Unfortunately, the death of a parent forced a child to grow up way too soon.

“Yes, we need them, too. Look how Scott has already repaired the broken gate and almost got the sprinkler pipes moved. It would have taken me much longer to do that work, even with your help. I'm just not physically strong enough and we can't afford to hire another work hand to help us out.”

Anne sat up and tossed aside the pillow. “But how can we trust him?”

Was Anne talking about Scott, or Aaron? Melanie wasn't sure anymore. When she'd married Aaron, she'd thought she'd chosen a good man to be the father of her children. Now she felt like a failure for exposing her daughter to a man with a foul mouth, a foul temper and a penchant for booze. The saddest part of all was that Aaron was such a good, hardworking man when he wasn't drinking. He could have been so much more, if only he hadn't been addicted to alcohol.

“Scott isn't your father, Anne. Why don't you just enjoy having Shelley here and leave everything else to me?” Melanie wanted to point out that Scott didn't drink, but she didn't want to hurt Anne with the reminder.

“All right, Shelley can stay.”

“And Scott? You can't have Shelley without her dad. Remember that she loves her father as much as you loved
yours. Without him, Shelley would be all alone in the world.”

A light clicked on inside Anne's eyes as this fully dawned on her. “You're right, Shelley needs us real bad. Right now, she's just a half dogie. Without her dad, she'd be a complete dogie.”

If it weren't so bittersweet, Melanie would have laughed. She knew this was very serious to Anne and Shelley. Somehow the two girls were able to relate to each other because they'd both lost a parent recently. “That's right. She loves her dad, too.”

“Poor Shelley. It's so sad that her dad's a ranger.”

She shook her head. “Sweetheart, Scott is a good man. I've seen it in him. You're not being fair.”

“But Dad said that forest rangers are dirty rotten, no good—”

Melanie held up a hand, fearing that her daughter might utter some of the foul language she'd heard Aaron use. “That's enough. I know what your dad said and he was wrong. I won't have that kind of language in our home anymore.”

The girl's mouth dropped open and her eyes rounded with shock.

Melanie looked her daughter right in the eye. “How would you feel if Shelley believed that all ranchers were horrible and called your daddy bad names?”

“But we're not. Well, maybe Mr. Donaldson is rotten. He was never nice to Daddy, but that's different.”

“How?”

“That's just the way Mr. Donaldson is. But Arnie Pike is a nice rancher. He helped us sometimes when Dad was sick.”

Sick.
What a simple word to describe Aaron's drunken stupors. It still hadn't dawned on Anne that, during those
times, Melanie took her daughter up on the mountain to shield her from her father's foul temper. Melanie had borne the brunt of it instead. Anne was young enough to still idolize her father. And Melanie wasn't about to change that perception. At least not until Anne was older, so she could understand that her daddy also had some very good qualities.

When he wasn't drinking.

“So it wouldn't be fair to say that
all
ranchers are rotten, right?” she said, hoping she'd gotten her point across.

“Maybe, but I still don't like Shelley's dad. He's nothing more than a fancy-talking bureaucrat.”

That was Aaron talking again. How many times had Melanie heard her husband say the very same thing? How she wished Aaron had been more careful what he'd said around their impressionable daughter. Now Melanie had her hands full trying to deal with Anne's biased opinions. “Remember I said no more name calling?”

Anne frowned.

“Scott has spoken pretty plainly to us so far. He hasn't used much fancy talk.”

“But he hasn't kept his promises to us, either.”

“He'll need more time for that, but he's out working in our fields right now. He's kept that promise.”

Anne sat up. “We'll see. The proof is in the pudding.”

Now the girl was repeating what Melanie often said. Kids were so easily influenced by what they saw and heard from their parents.

“That's fair enough. We all prove ourselves by our words and deeds. But in the meantime, you need to be polite to Scott.”

Anne huffed out a breath. “If you say so…but I don't have to be his friend, do I?”

“If he asks you a question, you should politely respond, but no, you don't have to be friends. Okay?” That concession wouldn't hurt after all.

“Okay.”

Melanie hugged her daughter tight, overwhelmed by love and gratitude. God had taken so much from them, but He had given them so much, too. “I love you, sweetheart. You're my whole world.”

“I love you, too, Mom, but you're squashing my eye.”

Melanie laughed and let her daughter go. “Why don't you go out and say goodbye to Shelley. I think she and her dad should be about ready to leave and you don't want her to think you don't like her anymore.”

“Is he gonna be here on Saturday?” Her voice sounded hopeful to see Shelley, yet guarded at the same time.

“Yes, we need to make a camp run in the afternoon to take supplies to Alfonso up on the mountain. Scott has agreed to help us do that.”

“He just wants to spy on us.” Anne's forehead crinkled in a scowl.

“No. He wants to see how he can help us. In return for me watching Shelley, he'll work here at the ranch. Remember, we just talked about this?” To make her point, Melanie allowed a twinge of sternness to enter her voice. As a loving mother, it was her responsibility to cultivate good manners in her daughter.

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” Anne didn't look convinced.

Okay, baby steps here. It would take time to change Anne's mind. Melanie hoped and prayed that Scott didn't let them down. She didn't dare admit that her daughter had voiced some of her own concerns. What if Scott didn't keep his promises to them? What if he was all talk and
no show like the last ranger? They were in a vulnerable position right now and Scott had the power to push them out of business. Opal Ranch had been in Melanie's family for four generations. She didn't know where they would go or what she would do if they lost their home.

Doubt speared Melanie's heart. If bad weather, coyotes, grizzlies and noxious plants killed many more sheep, they'd be in big trouble.

Please, Lord. Please help Scott keep his promises. Please help us keep the ranch.

 

The next Saturday morning, Scott and Shelley arrived at Opal Ranch at precisely eight o'clock. Insisting that they'd already eaten, Scott left Shelley in the house with Anne while he strode outside to work on the dilapidated toolshed.

As she stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes, Melanie watched him go, hardly able to take her eyes off him. Scott looked so different without his green Forest Service uniform. Today he'd dressed in faded blue jeans that accentuated his long legs, a navy blue T-shirt that molded his muscular arms and chest, and scuffed cowboy boots. The ranchers had called the last ranger Overbellie because his gut hung over his belt buckle, but that was not a word Melanie would have used to describe Scott. He looked real good. Too good.

Shaking her head, she focused on the sudsy water, wondering about the odd fluttering in her abdomen. She was a full-grown woman with a child of her own. She didn't have time to daydream about the handsome new ranger; a man her daughter could barely stand. He was Shelley's father and a work hand, nothing more.

An hour later, Melanie drove into town to pick up supplies for her sheep herder. Because she didn't want the
girls upset by the sign on Donaldson's store, she left them home with Scott. He'd agreed to keep an eye on them, knowing the kids would spend every spare minute feeding the dogie lambs.

The truck bounced along the dirt road and it felt good to have a few minutes to herself. Even when Aaron had been alive, she'd rarely left Anne alone with him. He might start drinking and Melanie didn't want her little girl exposed to any possible abuse.

She rubbed her left arm almost subconsciously, remembering the night Aaron died as if it was yesterday. They'd had a horrible disagreement over him going out alone to move their sheep during the thunderstorm and he'd grabbed her, bruising her arm. No matter how much she had tried to quiet him, his yells had awakened Anne. The girl had screamed, asking her daddy not to leave. Begging him to take her with him. And later, when they found that he had died, Anne had blamed Melanie for not being able to keep him home.

Shaking off the horrible memory, Melanie blinked her eyes, realizing that she was crying. Even now that he was gone, Aaron's memory still haunted her. The rank stench of alcohol, the fights, the doubt and guilt. To lighten her spirit, she sang a hymn about counting blessings. God had been good to them and she mustn't forget it.

In town, Melanie pulled up in front of Donaldson's store. Sure enough, the flash of pink caught her gaze. The ranger sign was still taped to the front window.

She couldn't explain the chilling anger that swept through her as she got out of the truck, slung her purse over her shoulder and walked into the store. Taking a deep, calming breath, Melanie pulled a shopping cart free and wheeled it toward the canned goods aisle.