The Forest Ranger's Christmas (10 page)

She smiled. She couldn’t help it. “Yes it is.”

“Hi, Josie.” Gracie squeezed between them and snatched up one of her cookies.

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Mmm, snickerdoodles. And they’re homemade.” The girl took a big bite.

Josie brushed her fingers through Gracie’s long blond hair. “Hey, you did a good job tonight singing with the kids’ choir.”

Her face flushed with pleasure. “Thanks. So did you.”

As Clint set his offering on the table, Josie glanced at his bag of packaged cookies and arched her brows. “That’s cheating, you know. Store-bought cookies aren’t gonna cut it with this crowd.”

He gave a sheepish grin. “Yeah, sorry about that. But trust me. You don’t want to eat my homemade cookies.”

“He burned them.” Gracie crinkled her nose. “And they weren’t really homemade, anyway. They were one of those tubes of cookie dough you buy at the store and bake at home.”

Josie narrowed her eyes, as though this were a grave insult. “Hmm, so you were gonna try and pass off store-bought cookie dough for your own, huh?”

Clint’s face flooded with color. He reached over and pulled Gracie close, placing a kiss on her forehead before whispering loudly enough for Josie to hear. “Remember, that was just our secret, sweetheart. You’re not supposed to go around telling everyone.”

A laugh burst from Josie’s throat. “Well, I must admit, store-bought cookies are good, too.”

“Not as good as these are.” Gracie held up the half-eaten snickerdoodle before moving on down the table.

“No more than three cookies,” Clint called after her, and she groaned. He turned back to Josie, not quite meeting her eyes.

She chuckled. “I’m glad to discover you have at least one flaw. I was beginning to think you were perfect.”

In every single way.

“Oh, no,” he assured her. “Just ask Gracie. She’d be happy to tell you every one of my faults in great detail.” A wry smile curved his mouth and he shook his head, his face still bright with embarrassment.

Josie didn’t believe him. From what she’d observed, Clint
was
the perfect man. It was easy to see why Gracie adored her father. And for three crazy seconds, Josie felt an intense longing to feel his strong arms around her, feel the steady beat of his heart as she rested her cheek against his solid chest. To hear him speak her name with a sigh.

Stunned by her wayward thoughts, she looked away, her cheeks flaming with a blush.

“Gracie’s playing the part of an angel in the program,” he said.

Josie glanced back at him with interest. “Have you made her costume yet?”

He shook his head, looking mildly concerned. “Last year she was an elf, and Viola made her costume. I’ll have to get someone else to do it this year.”

Not surprising. Most men were not seamstresses.

“Why don’t I make it for her?” Josie offered.

He blinked in surprise. “You know how to sew?”

“A little bit. Does that surprise you?”

“Yes,” he confessed.

“Grandma Vi taught me. Her old sewing machine is still sitting right where she left it, in the back bedroom, and I have the time. I’m sure Helen will help me if I run into difficulty. Besides, it’s a great way to repay you for all the work you’ve done around Gramps’s house.”

Clint smiled with relief. “That would take a huge load off my mind. I have no idea what marabou trim is, much less how to sew it onto white satin.”

She chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

Drawing a deep breath, he leaned nearer. “While we have a moment alone, I was wondering if you might also be interested in—”

Josie felt a hand tugging on her arm.

“Hi, Josie!”

She turned and found Thelma Milton, the owner of the grocery store, standing beside her. Thelma smiled widely, showing smudges of bright red lipstick on her front teeth.

“Hello, Thelma.” She greeted the lady cheerfully.

“Mrs. Milton.” Clint nodded at her, then stepped away to speak with someone else.

Josie watched him go, wondering what he’d been about to ask her.

“These are for Frank. I made them special just for him.” Thelma handed her a plate wrapped in shiny tinfoil.

Focusing on the woman, Josie sniffed the contents and lifted her eyes in question. “Thank you, but wouldn’t you like to give them to him yourself?”

“No, I don’t want him to think I’m being too forward. They’re chocolate chip. Vi’s recipe.”

Josie wasn’t about to tell Thelma that she’d already frozen dozens of the same cookies for Gramps. He was planning to hand out some to their neighbors as a holiday gift.

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll love them. That’s so thoughtful of you,” she said instead.

Yep, Gramps definitely had an admirer.

Thelma waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. Vi always brought me a plate every year. It’s just not the same now she’s gone. I miss her so much. She was a good friend to me when my Harry passed away two years ago. I’m just trying to return the favor now that Frank’s all alone.”

Josie caught the sincerity in Thelma’s voice and couldn’t help liking the woman. She was fast coming to realize that elderly people needed companionship just as much as younger folks. Just because they got old didn’t mean they didn’t still need others. “Yes, I miss her, too.”

“You sing soprano, right?”

Josie nodded. “But not very well. I tend to crack on the high notes.”

“Oh, no, dear. You sounded great to me.” Thelma reached for a pecan brownie and took a bite.

Josie didn’t respond. She knew she couldn’t sing well enough for a solo, but she could carry a tune and did well enough in the chorus. And that suited her just fine. It felt good to be included in the festivities.

“Where’d that grandpa of yours run off to?” Thelma’s gaze scanned the roomful of people while she munched on her brownie.

Josie swiveled around to help her look. “I’m not sure. He was here just a few minutes ago.”

“He promised to go caroling with a group of us from the civic center next week. He said he’d pick me up. I was wondering what time.”

Since she was at least five inches taller than Thelma, Josie pointed to where Gramps stood beside the punch bowl, with Clint and Tom. “There he is.”

“Of course. Talking with the other men.” Thelma’s voice gushed with admiration.

Josie watched as Clint dipped out a cup of red punch for Gracie. The girl laughed at something he said, and Clint gave a wry grin before he handed her the cup. Watching the two interact, Josie felt as though she was eavesdropping on something private between them. And yet she liked how Clint treated his daughter. He seemed to be more than just Gracie’s daddy. He was also her best friend.

At that moment, he turned and glanced Josie’s way, almost as if he’d felt her gaze. Across the expanse of the cultural hall, their eyes met. Embarrassed to be caught gawking, Josie gave him a half smile, then jerked her head around and pretended to be absorbed in her conversation with Thelma.

“Gramps looks like he’s having fun,” Josie said.

“Yes. He’s such a nice man. I think I’ll go and confirm the time he’ll be picking me up for our caroling trip. We’re old fuddy-duddies, but you should plan to join us. Excuse me, dear.” Thelma scooted away, making a beeline for Gramps.

“Hi, Josie.”

Helen Mulford took Thelma’s place, crowding close as she reached for a napkin.

“Hi, Helen.” Josie folded her arms and leaned against the wall, feeling nervous with all these people around, yet still enjoying herself.

“How’s Frank’s reading coming along?” Helen spoke in a low tone.

Josie appreciated the woman’s tact. Until Gramps learned to read, she didn’t want to advertise his disability to the world. She thought about the quiet hour she’d spent with him last night, helping him sound out each letter of the alphabet. And when they got home tonight, they planned to read again before going to bed. His eagerness to learn inspired Josie, and she couldn’t help feeling proud of his efforts.

“Very well,” she whispered back. “In fact, he’s learning so fast that later tonight I’m planning to help him tackle one of the remedial readers we borrowed from Clint.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Helen said. “Once he starts reading small words, the bigger words will come quick enough.”

Josie took that opportunity to mention the angel dress she was planning to make for Gracie.

“How nice of you to sew it for Clint. If you need any help, you just give me a call. It’s no trouble at all. And this is for both you and Frank to enjoy. Merry Christmas.”

The woman handed Josie a bag filled with candied popcorn balls wrapped in plastic. Although Josie didn’t want any more goodies around the house for Gramps to gobble down, she smiled graciously and accepted the gift. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m Marylou Calhoun.” An unfamiliar woman suddenly inserted her hand between Helen and Josie. Dressed in blue jeans and a tie-died blouse, she chewed a piece of gum with her mouth open. “You must be Frank Rushton’s granddaughter. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Startled by her forward manner, Josie took a step back.

“Hi there, Marylou.” Helen smiled and provided a short explanation to Josie. “Marylou bought the Sunglow Café downtown. It just reopened again after being completely renovated.”

Josie shook the woman’s hand. “How nice.”

Especially since it was the only diner in town. Josie hated to see any of the local businesses closing up shop. The fact that the restaurant had reopened was a good sign the poor economy was recovering, if only a little bit.

“You looking for a job, honey? I’m hiring waitresses,” Marylou said.

“No! Josie isn’t gonna be one of your waitresses,” Helen interrupted. “She’s a pharmacist in Las Vegas.”

Marylou’s eyes widened. “A pharmacist, huh? I’ll bet you make loads of dough.”

Josie blinked. She sensed the woman was harmless enough, but couldn’t get used to her blunt candor.

“Of course she does. She’s had lots of schooling and works hard,” Helen said.

“I sure wish we had a pharmacy here in Camlin,” Marylou grumbled.

“Me, too,” Helen agreed.

Josie didn’t see how she could open a pharmacy here. Maybe in a few years she’d have enough capital saved to try such a venture.

“Heaven knows we can use some young women in this town. We need more little kids bopping around the place,” Marylou said.

Helen swatted the air. “Oh, phooey. You just miss those grandkids of yours. But Josie isn’t even married, Marylou. She’s not gonna have any kids, yet.”

Marylou shot a look over at Clint, then winked at Josie. “We can sure fix that problem. That is one mighty fine looking man, honey. He’s single and built in all the right places. And I believe you’ve already caught his eye. Do you need pointers?”

Josie would have laughed, but Marylou had hit a little too close to home. “No, thank you.”

“She’s not interested,” Helen interjected. “She just broke up with her fiancé.”

Marylou glanced at Josie. “Your fiancé, huh?”

“Yes, this is her second broken engagement,” Helen said. “She needs time to heal. Frank told me so.”

Josie’s face flooded with heat. Was there anyone in town Gramps hadn’t told her business to? She edged away from the table, longing to escape.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” The café owner placed a conciliatory hand on her arm. “But don’t you worry. The best cure for a broken heart is to go out with lots of other men. That’ll show whoever broke your heart that you don’t care one bit. And you’d have a lot of fun in the process.”

But that was just the problem. Josie did care. Perhaps too much.

“She doesn’t need a man. She’s a pharmacist and can support herself,” Helen said.

“Everyone needs a man,” Marylou said.

Something deep inside Josie rebelled at this. No, she didn’t need a man. But she wanted a family of her own. Someone to share her life with. That was all.

The women continued speaking as though she was actually participating in their conversation. Before long, two other neighbors swung by to give Josie a package of fudge and homemade caramels. Grateful for the change in topic, she accepted their offerings with a smile. Their consideration touched her deeply and she found herself chatting and laughing as though she’d lived here all her life.

She compared this outpouring of attention with her lonely existence in Vegas. No one ever brought her homemade gifts at Christmas. It occurred to her that in order to receive, she needed to give. If she wanted to have friends, she needed to be a friend.

Starting tomorrow, she’d finish baking her loaves of pumpkin bread. Grandma always did a ton of baking during the holidays. Josie planned to continue the tradition. She had an angel dress to sew and deliveries to make, starting with Clint and Gracie. It was the least she could do to say thank you for all Clint had done for them. Gramps could help. He loved visiting with his neighbors and could make the deliveries. And it’d give Josie another opportunity to visit with Clint and Gracie.

Deep inside, Josie knew nothing could ever come of her relationship with the handsome forest ranger. Nothing but a distant friendship. And that left her feeling sad and empty inside.

Chapter Ten

T
he next morning, Josie started work on Gracie’s angel dress. Thankfully, the choir director’s wife had done the shopping and provided the pattern, fabric and thread, so that each child would be dressed the same.

By midafternoon, Josie stopped to help Gramps decorate their Christmas tree. While he strung the lights, she climbed into the attic to retrieve the ornaments. Flipping on the light, she gazed about the dreary space in surprise. Dust motes filtered through the threads of sunlight that peeked through the grimy window. Cobwebs and filth covered every surface. The cold caused her to shiver. As she crouched down and perused the stacks of boxes, she realized this was a big fire hazard. Forget a lighted match. All they needed was spontaneous combustion to burn down Gramps’s house. She made a mental note to clean out this storage room before she returned to Las Vegas.

She lifted the lid to an old wooden trunk. A cloud of dust flew upward toward her face. She coughed and sneezed, waving a hand to clear the air. Peering inside, she saw a stack of old letters tied with a faded blue satin ribbon. Curiosity got the better of her and she lifted them out, noticing the dates, and that they’d been written by her parents before they’d married.

Love letters from the past.

Opening several envelopes sequentially, she scanned the yellowed pages. Loving words flowed from one sheet to the next. Her mother’s words, expressing hope and joy for her life with Josie’s father. Josie devoured every sentence like dry sand soaking up rain.

Before she knew it, she’d read seven letters. Her mom had written two letters for every one written by Dad. Separated when he’d gone off to college, she’d missed him and longed for the day when they could be together always. Likewise, Dad could barely concentrate on his school studies, he’d missed his sweetheart so much.

Sitting there in the dust and cobwebs, Josie found tears flowing down her cheeks. For the first time in her life, she realized how young her mom had been when she’d been divorced with a young child to raise. Too young. And Josie didn’t understand why. All she remembered were the noisy fights filled with hateful words. And then the divorce and Mom’s constant anger afterward.

Josie never saw her father again. When Gramps telephoned a year later to say that Dad had died in a car crash, Mom had responded stoically. Then she’d hung up the phone, walked to her bedroom, closed the door and sobbed uncontrollably. Josie had remained outside in the hallway, curled against the wall, her face buried in her hands. Longing to go to her mother. To be comforted. To know everything was going to be okay. But it wasn’t. And four short years later, Mom had died of a heart attack.

They’d all been cheated out of a happy family life together. If Mom and Dad had stayed together, things would have been different.

Never had Josie missed her father more than right now. If he’d lived and stayed with her mother, Josie’s childhood would have been more carefree. Once Dad graduated from medical school, they would have had more money to pay the bills. Mom could have stayed at home more. Josie might even have some siblings to love. They would have been happy.

But all the would have’s and could have’s wouldn’t help them now.

“Parents shouldn’t outlive their kids, and kids shouldn’t have to grow up without their parents,” she murmured beneath her breath.

She wondered if her folks had had any inkling that they would both die young. What might they have done differently if they had known? What words might they have said to each other?

“Hey, sweetheart! You coming down?” Gramps called from the bottom of the stairs.

Josie swiped at her damp eyes. “Yes, I’ll be right there.”

In a flurry, she found the box of ornaments and placed the letters on top as she climbed down the ladder to the second floor. Depositing the letters in her room to finish reading later, she scurried downstairs with the box of colored bulbs.

The tree stood in one corner of the living room, the lights aglow. Gramps had turned on an old cassette of Christmas carols. “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer” played in the background and Gramps sang along in his rich, bass voice. The house smelled of pine needles and the cinnamon rolls she’d popped into the oven just before she’d climbed into the attic.

“I got the rolls out,” Gramps said.

“Oh, I forgot. Thanks, Gramps.” She’d been rather distracted.

He inspected the tree, then turned to get her opinion. “It’s pretty, huh?”

“Beautiful.” A poignant feeling of love overwhelmed her and she hugged him, determined not to live her life with regrets. To cherish the people in her life now, while she had the time.

“I love you, muffin.”

“I love you, Gramps.”

As they stood there gazing at the lights, Josie realized she’d hardly thought about her job at the pharmacy over the past few days. Tomorrow, she’d call and check in with them.

And then a thought struck Josie. If she died, what would happen to Gramps? Who would take care of him as he got older?

The Lord. That’s what Grandma would say. He was there for all His children. All Josie had to do was trust in Him. But Josie hadn’t thought about God in years and didn’t know how to start trusting in Him now.

“It’s the prettiest tree I’ve ever seen. I’m so glad I’m here,” she said.

And she meant it. Every word.

“Hey, sweetheart. You okay?” Gramps drew away, his gaze focused on her face. No doubt her eyes were red from crying.

She hugged him tightly, breathing in his spicy cologne, cherishing his presence like never before. “I’m just great. Thanks for letting me be here with you.”

“Of course. This is your home. You’re welcome anytime, muffin.”

She laughed, a pang of nostalgia swamping her with memories. Gramps teaching her to fish. Grandma teaching her about the atonement of Jesus Christ and how to pray. Her grandparents had been her dearest friends. Yet she’d turned her back on God. He’d let her down, so she’d decided to ignore Him. But now, Josie wondered if she was wrong. Maybe, just maybe, Clint was right and God was waiting for her to call on Him again. Maybe God hadn’t abandoned her, after all. Hmm. It was something to think about.

That night, Josie and Gramps sat on the couch and laughed as they sang songs and ate chunks of homemade peanut brittle. When she finally went to bed, Josie spent another hour pouring over her parents’ letters. Laughing when they teased each other about some silly joke they’d shared. Crying when they talked of their future plans and how much they loved each other.

Poor, lonely Mom. How she must have regretted the divorce after Dad had died.

Waves of compassion crashed over Josie. She no longer saw her mother as an angry, bitter woman. but rather as a human being with failings and regrets of her own. And for the first time since Dad had died, Josie thought perhaps she may have unfairly judged her mom.