The Forest Ranger's Christmas (13 page)

She gave a little nod. “Sorry, Daddy. Can I take the rose to Grandma Vi now?”

Chuckling at her exuberance, he handed it over. Gracie held it up for Josie’s inspection. “We brought Grandma a rose for her birthday.”

“You did? That’s so nice of you.”

Whirling about, the girl picked her way carefully over to the road and then raced toward Frank.

“Hi, Grandpa Frank. Look what I got.” Gracie’s voice carried across the field, her enthusiasm contagious.

She launched herself at him. The elderly man opened his arms to receive her. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m so glad you came.”

Turning, Clint smiled at Josie and gestured toward his recalcitrant daughter. He felt suddenly shy again, like an awkward schoolboy. He longed to take her in his arms and feel her melt against him. “We didn’t know you’d be here, too. We didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It’s no problem. Gramps and I were almost finished. You’re lucky you caught us,” Josie said.

Lucky. Yes, maybe so. He couldn’t ignore a sudden feeling of excitement pulsing through his veins, as well as the danger signals ringing inside his head. Big-time.

“Are you here just for Grandma Vi, or is Karen buried here, too?” Josie turned and looked around the cemetery, as if she might spy Karen’s grave.

“No, Karen is buried in Caldwell, Idaho. We don’t get to visit her often, so we visit Viola instead. But I don’t want Gracie to forget her mom.” He spoke in a soft voice that wouldn’t carry to his daughter.

“I can understand why. Caldwell’s a long ways away from here.” Josie also lowered her tone.

He hitched one shoulder. “It’s where we were living when Gracie was born.”

“Is that where Karen was from?”

“No, she grew up in a small coal mining town in Oklahoma.” He didn’t like talking about his wife, but he couldn’t seem to shut off the flow of information.

“Ah, and what brought her out west?”

“Me. We met while I was working for the Forest Service. She had a part-time job bagging groceries at the general store. We hit it off immediately.”

And he’d married her two months later. She’d been desperate to escape her life, and he’d provided the way out. He’d been so drawn in by her wide, soulful eyes and soft voice. He’d loved her instantly. Or at least he’d thought it was love. After their marriage, he’d locked his heart to all other women. Her gentle innocence had cried out to him. He couldn’t seem to help himself. It had been his privilege and joy to sweep Karen out of the poverty she was living in and make a life with her. He didn’t find out about the abuse she’d suffered until months later, when she was pregnant with Gracie. By that time, he was committed. This was his family and he’d do anything for them. He’d refused to give up on Karen. Even if she gave up on herself.

“She suffered from a deep depression. I couldn’t make her happy.” The moment he said the words, Clint regretted them.

Josie stared at him, as though not knowing what to say. “I don’t believe that. Sometimes it’s not so simple. You know that, right?”

He didn’t nod or flex a single muscle. He wanted to accept what Josie said, but he couldn’t. His guilt wouldn’t allow it.

“Depression can make people mentally ill, Clint. I know you must have done everything you could for her,” Josie said.

“You’re very kind,” he said. “And in my mind, I know you’re right. But in my heart, I feel like I failed her. Like I should have been able to do something more to help her.”

“Like what?”

Faced by Josie’s blunt question, Clint wasn’t sure. And that did something to him inside. He felt a softening, as though the chunks of ice encasing his heart had shifted somehow and were breaking loose.

“I’m not sure. But something,” he said.

She looked to where Frank was pointing out various graves in his family plot, telling Gracie about each person’s life.

Watching them, Josie made an offhand gesture. “You know, I’ve been so alone at times that I’ve often felt like I was in the middle of an ocean and had crossed halfway, but I still had half an ocean to go before I could make it to shore. And there I was, drowning. As though my face was covered with water and all I had was a straw to breathe through.”

She turned and faced him, her eyes filled with conviction. “And then I came home to visit Gramps. And you and Gracie were here. You’ve helped Gramps and me when we needed you most. You’ve been our friend. I’m so sorry for your loss, Clint. But I have to tell you that you have friends here, too. You’re not alone. And maybe it’s time you cut yourself some slack and let go of the guilt. I have so many faults of my own, so I’m not in a position to judge. But I have learned that life is short, and wallowing in guilt isn’t the way God wants us to live our lives.”

He stared, stunned right down to his toes, and unable to say a word. His first instinct was to tell Josie to mind her own business. That she had no right to say such things to him. But then he realized she was right. She’d spoken the truth. And that softened him as nothing else could.

“You got your faith back,” he said.

She lifted one shoulder. “Yes, thanks to you.”

“Me?”

“You encouraged me to pray. It’s a work in progress, but I’ve also been searching the scriptures and trying to give God a second chance. And then I discovered that He never really left me. It was me that left Him. But now I want to come back.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

She turned and waved to get Frank’s attention. “Gramps! I’m cold. I’m going to wait in the truck.”

He nodded, and Josie glanced at Clint. “See you later.”

“Yeah, later.” He stood there, still amazed by what she’d said.

Frank slogged through the snow toward Clint. The two men greeted one another, but Clint felt like a wooden soldier just going through the motions.

“See you tomorrow,” Frank said as he passed by on his way to join Josie.

“Yeah.” Clint stared after the man, his mind broiling in confusion. At this point, he didn’t know what to think. Or feel. Or say.

Tomorrow was Sunday. Church. No doubt Frank and Josie would be there. And as Clint walked over to join his daughter, he couldn’t decide if that made him happy or sad.

Chapter Thirteen

T
he next morning, Josie sat in the front seat of Gramps’s truck and shivered. Somber clouds scudded across the sky like dive bombers, just waiting to open up and let them have it again. Another storm was on its way, but that didn’t diminish Josie’s spirits. As someone who’d lived her entire life in the western United States, she figured it wasn’t Christmas without snow. She just wasn’t sure she liked this much of the white stuff.

Gramps stood outside, scraping frost off the windshield. He wore a yellow knitted scarf around his neck, handmade by Grandma Vi. He refused to let Josie clean the windows, for fear she might muss her pretty dress and high heels. Knowing she might see Clint at church, Josie couldn’t bring herself to wear her practical, but dowdy snow boots. Though she tried to tell herself she didn’t care if she caught the handsome forest ranger’s interest, her vanity said otherwise. Of course, after the blunt words she’d spoken to him yesterday, she wondered if he’d ever talk to her again. She’d just make sure she held on to Gramps’s arm as she teetered up the walk into the church.

Looking out the windshield, Josie noticed the frayed edge along one sleeve of Gramps’s gray suit coat. It was definitely time to get him a new one. Grandma Vi would be mortified to have her husband going to church looking anything but his best, and Josie agreed.

Hmm. That gave her an idea for Christmas.

The warmth of the old defroster hadn’t kicked in yet, but the cold wasn’t the problem. Huddled in her coat, Josie felt nervous energy tingle down her arms. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to church. Years earlier with her grandparents, during one of her short visits home. But she couldn’t say when. Just that it had been way too long. The thought of going caused a strange, happy contentment to bubble up inside her. Then she feared God might disapprove of a sinner like her darkening the doorstep of the church.

Maybe she should stay home.

Gramps climbed inside the truck and slammed the door. “Brrr. It’s cold as brass underwear out there.” Fisting his hands together, he blew warmth onto them.

Josie gave a nervous laugh. “Gramps, maybe I shouldn’t go.”

He barely spared her a glance as he put the truck into gear. “Nonsense.”

And off they went. Too late for Josie to change her mind now. Besides, she knew having her along brought Gramps a lot of joy. It wasn’t often he got to go to church with a family member. She realized this wasn’t just about her. Gramps was lonely, too. He liked her company. She could see it in the way he held his head high and whistled Christmas carols as he drove down the street.

“Gramps, you know I’ve been reading Grandma’s Bible recently.”

“Yes.” He lifted one bushy eyebrow.

“Mostly the verses about God forsaking me.”

“Ah, you’ve been reading Psalms twenty-two and twenty-three.”

“How did you know?” Josie asked.

He hunched his shoulders. “I memorized those scriptures at my mother’s knee, and I often think about them. They’ve sustained me during my life. Especially lately, since I lost Vi.”

“Really?”

He nodded and began reciting the Lord’s prayer out loud in his deep, bass narrator’s voice that sounded as though he should be on TV.

Josie didn’t move. Didn’t breathe or twitch a muscle. His words held her spellbound. The emotion in his tone immobilized her. And when he’d finished, she sat frozen in her seat.

“A month after Ma died, I thought God must have forsaken me,” he said. “How could I live without my dear wife? We’d been together for over fifty-seven years. How could I go on without her?”

Josie blinked and sent tears tumbling down her cheeks. “Oh, Gramps. I never knew.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand. “But then you would call at just the right moment to lift my spirits. And then you came home for Christmas. Maybe you didn’t know how much I needed to see you, but the Lord did. He sent you to me, Josie. You’re an answer to my prayers, muffin.”

She gave a croaking laugh. “I’ve never been an answer to anyone’s prayers before.”

“Sure you have, sweetheart. You’ve done so much for me. You were too young to remember, but your mother needed you once your daddy died. Nita wasn’t taking good care of herself. Without you, I doubt she would have survived as long as she did.”

“Mom needed me?” Josie tilted her head, hardly able to believe this.

“Oh, yes. More than ever.

She had no doubt Clint must have felt lost when Karen died. As though his world had ended and he couldn’t go on. Yet he had. Because Gracie needed him. Because the Lord expected him to carry on to the end. And that made Josie respect Clint even more.

“Thanks for telling me, Gramps. I love you.”

He smiled and squeezed her hand again. “I love you, too.”

They’d reached the church. The redbrick building stood alone in a wide field. Sunlight gleamed against the damp pavement. During the summer months, green grass surrounded the area, a fun place for large barbecues and rousing games of baseball. As Gramps parked the truck, then opened the door for her to get out, Josie felt jittery. He led her inside the warm foyer and she stomped her heels on the black floor mat to get all the snow off her feet. Soft organ music filtered through the air, creating a reverent atmosphere.

“Josie! Grandpa Frank!” Gracie raced over to them, throwing her little arms around Josie’s waist.

“Hi, sweetheart. You sure look nice today.” Josie hugged the girl, her gaze sweeping over Gracie’s fire-engine-red jumper and black tights. Her long pony tail bounced with each stride, and a floppy red flower was attached to the scrunchie at the back of her head.

“You look pretty, too. Doesn’t she, Daddy?” Gracie whirled on her father, her face etched with expectation.

Josie looked up, to see Clint standing near the doorway talking to Mike Burdett.

“Yes, very pretty.” Clint’s gaze traveled over Josie, down her legs to her high heels.

“Is my angel dress almost finished?” the girl whispered, as if it was a secret she was keeping from her dad.

“It is,” Josie replied.

“Oh, goodie. I’m gonna look so beautiful.”

“Yes, you are.” Josie squeezed her hand.

“Hi, Josie. How’s the roof holding up?” Mike stretched out his arm.

“Just great. Thanks again for all your help.” Unable to think of anything more intelligent to say, she smiled as she shook his hand.

Feeling Clint’s gaze on her, Josie smoothed her fingers over the front of her floral print dress, a flush of heat searing her face. Why his compliment would cause such a reaction, she couldn’t say. She only knew she liked it. A lot.

“Well, I better round up my family. The service is about to start,” Mike said as he went inside the chapel.

Standing beside Clint, Josie swallowed, feeling giddy and uncertain of herself. As he shifted his weight, she gave him a double glance and caught the clean scent of wintergreen mouthwash. He looked so different today. She’d gotten used to seeing him in his Forest Service uniform or casual blue jeans. Today he wore a black pinstripe suit, shiny wing tip shoes, a white oxford shirt and red paisley tie. He appeared handsome and festive, his short hair slicked back with a bit of gel. He looked good. Too good.

Gracie hugged Grandpa Frank with enthusiasm. “Hi, Grandpa.”

“Hi there, sweetie pie. You getting excited for Santa to come to your house?”

“Yes, I am.” The girl pointed at Josie and gave Gramps a knowing look. The elderly man winked in response.

Frank looked up at Clint. “I hope you’re planning to come over for Christmas dinner after the program on Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, yes,” Gracie said.

Clint looked doubtful and opened his mouth to speak, but Frank cut him off. “I won’t take no for an answer. Josie’s cooking us a feast,” the older man said.

Clint blinked. “Okay, I guess we’ll be there, then.”

“Good.” Frank grinned widely.

Josie didn’t know if this was a good idea. Clint looked reticent, his brows bunched in a deep scowl. She didn’t want to force him to share Christmas Eve with them, but she wouldn’t deny she wanted him and Gracie there. Having a child in the house for Christmas would make the holiday even more special.

“Gramps, maybe Clint and Gracie have their own Christmas traditions,” she said.

Clint met her eyes and heaved a deep sigh. “Actually, eating one of your nice meals might be refreshing for a change. You already know I’m not much of a cook.”

His words pleased her enormously and she couldn’t help anticipating the holiday with him.

Gracie tugged on Frank’s coattail. He leaned down, and she cupped her mouth with one hand and whispered loudly, “I delivered my letter to Santa, just like I told you.”

“You did, huh? That’s good.”

“Yeah, and he said he’d see what he could do.”

Josie stared at her grandfather. Had he known about Gracie’s special Christmas wish? Why hadn’t he told Josie? She didn’t dare say anything, for fear she might upset Gracie. She glanced at Clint, wondering if he knew about it, too.

“Come and sit with us. I’ll tell you all about it,” Gracie insisted as she latched on to Gramps’s big hand and tugged.

“Okay.” A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he let her lead him into the chapel.

Josie watched them go with misgivings. Then she glanced at Clint and shrugged it off. “Looks like we’re sitting together.”

“Yeah, it looks that way.” He cupped her elbow and indicated she should precede him to the pews.

As they entered the chapel, several people Josie didn’t know turned and stared at them, then ducked their heads together to whisper among themselves. Thelma Milton waved from across the room and nodded in approval. Helen Mulford sat up front playing the organ, her face creased in a knowing smile.

Josie looked away, a flood of warmth heating her cheeks. No doubt the gossips would have a good time discussing her and Clint sitting together.

Clint leaned down and spoke close to her ear, his warm breath brushing against her face. “You sure you want to sit with Gracie and me? Looks like we’ll be the topic of discussion all over town for the next week.”

Oh, let them talk. Josie didn’t care. Not today. Clint’s touch brought her a deep sense of fulfillment, as though she belonged here with him. A crazy notion, but irrefutable proof that they’d become close friends. Yet he seemed reticent. As though he didn’t want to be with her.

“It’s okay. It won’t last long,” she said.

As they approached, Gracie slid close to Gramps. Josie had no choice but to sit sandwiched between Clint and the little girl. As the prelude music ended, Josie was surprised to discover she felt perfectly at home. She listened to the service, and a peaceful feeling settled over her. Like a homecoming. As though she’d never been away. An odd notion, surely, but undeniable all the same.

Midway through the program, the church choir sang “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.” With several elderly people among them, they weren’t the best in the world, but their vibrant voices meshed together in perfect harmony. Like angels singing praises to God, their words pierced deep into Josie’s heart. She’d never heard anything so beautiful in all her life. And the sermon on Christ’s mission here on earth left her feeling calm and quiet inside, as though all was right in her world. In spite of her fears and worries, God lived, and loved her. He was here for her and had everything in His control. All she had to do was rely on Him.

Easier said than done. But Josie was trying. She wished Clint lived in Vegas and wasn’t hung up by guilt. But he was, and he lived in Camlin. And they couldn’t be more than friends.

He leaned close and whispered, “You okay?”

She blinked and nodded, realizing tears filled her eyes. He must have seen them. As she responded, she again caught his clean, spicy scent.

“Yes, I’m just enjoying the meeting.”

A smile creased the corners of his mouth. “Good. I’m glad you’re here.”

“So am I.”

And she meant it. But realizing what she’d just admitted, her breath froze in her throat. Except for Gramps, she couldn’t remember a time in her adult life when someone had told her that they were glad she was there. It meant a lot to Josie. It meant everything. If only it could last.

* * *

By the time Sunday school was over, Clint couldn’t fight it anymore. His attraction for Josie had become a powerful energy he couldn’t deny. And yet he must, for Gracie’s sake as well as his own. And telling Josie she looked pretty, and that he was glad she was here, and agreeing to share Christmas dinner, wasn’t helping him fight that magnetism.

Standing in the outer foyer while he waited for Gracie, he leaned back against the wall and slid his hands into his pants pockets. Josie stood close by, waiting for Frank. Clint told himself it was just because she didn’t know many people here, so she seemed to gravitate to him like a lifeline. But deep inside, he wished it was because she...

What? Wanted to be around him? The way he wanted to be with her?

“She’s always such a happy kid.” Josie indicated Gracie as the girl skipped down the hall with her friend Jenny Fletcher.

The girls’ teacher called them back, indicating they’d forgotten the pictures they’d drawn during their Sunday school class. Even this far down the hallway, Josie caught the melodious sound of Gracie’s laugh. The kids disappeared inside their classroom again, no doubt gathering up their artwork.

Clint nodded, his gaze pinned on the doorway where his daughter had disappeared. “That’s mostly due to you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, she’s grown quite fond of you.”

Unfortunately, so had Clint.

Josie’s eyes glowed with pleasure. “I’m fond of her, too. Very much.”

“And I appreciate that,” he said. “The time you’ve spent with her baking cookies and making her angel dress has been therapeutic for her.”

“It’s been my pleasure. I can understand her wanting to bake, especially at Christmastime. I’ve been feeling the same way for a long time now. It’s been refreshing to cook and sew, and spend time at home for once.”

He tilted his head in confusion. “You don’t do those things when you’re in Las Vegas?”