The Forest Ranger's Christmas (11 page)

BOOK: The Forest Ranger's Christmas
10.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Chapter Eleven

T
he next morning, Gracie knocked promptly at ten o’clock. Josie opened the front door, her gaze locking with Clint’s as he stood behind the little girl. And wham! Josie’s senses careened into high gear.

“Hi, Josie. I’m ready to try on my angel dress.” The child pushed open the screen door and skipped inside, a huge smile on her face. She tugged at her knit cap, but the long ties held firmly beneath her chin.

Conscious of Clint shifting his booted feet on the welcome mat, Josie hunkered down on one knee to help Gracie undo the knot. “Hi, sweetheart. We’ll try on the dress first. Then I’m making cookies and divinity. You want to help me?”

The knot came free.

“I thought you weren’t going to make divinity,” Clint said.

Josie pulled off the cap and strands of Gracie’s soft, clean hair lifted into the air with static electricity. “I thought I’d try it one more time. If the house catches fire, you’ll know I’ve cooked it too long.”

He laughed, the sound vibrating through her.

“Sure, I want to help,” Gracie responded with enthusiasm.

After a warm hug, the little girl zipped into the living room, as though searching for her dress.

“Wait until I’m there. I don’t want you to get stuck with pins,” Josie called after her.

Clint gestured toward his daughter. “You sure you’re up to watching her?”

“Oh, yes. It’s no problem, really. We’re going to have lots of fun. I fear you’re getting the short end of the straw with repairing the roof in this cold weather.” Josie stepped out onto the porch with him.

“No problem here. We’ve had several days of sunshine, so the roof is clear of snow.” He picked up a small white bucket.

“What’s that for?” she asked.

“Garbage, to put the decayed shingles in after I remove them from the roof.”

Josie wrapped her arms around herself and peered at him as he hopped down off the porch in one graceful lunge. She couldn’t help admiring his long, muscular legs and wide shoulders as he picked up a ladder and leaned it against the siding. A heavy tool belt hugged his lean hips. Armed with a bundle of new shingles, nails and a thin piece of metal flashing held beneath his left arm, he gripped the ladder with his right hand and stepped up on the bottom rung.

“You sure it’s safe to climb up on the roof loaded down with all those tools?” She touched his shoulder.

He jerked his head around, lost his balance and dropped the box of nails. It hit the snow-covered ground and burst open, the metal spikes peppering the area.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.” She scurried to help him gather up the nails.

“It’s okay. Guess I’m a bit clumsy today.” He gave a nervous laugh.

“As long as you’re not clumsy up on the roof. It’s a long drop down.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Fearing he might think her a bit too forward if she fretted over his safety, she looked away. But inside, she knew she’d be heartbroken if something bad happened to this kind man. Gracie needed him. Having lost her own dad, Josie understood that very well.

Together, they plucked the wayward nails from the snow and deposited them back in the box. Gazing up into Clint’s warm brown eyes when they’d finished, Josie felt as though the summer sun was shining down on her after she’d survived a long frigid winter. A happy feeling pressed in on her. A unique emotion she hadn’t felt in...

Never. Not once in all her life had any man made her feel this way. Not even her two ex-fiancés.

She stepped back, wondering what being near Clint did to her senses. He seemed so grounded. Even when he lost his balance and dropped a box of nails, she felt complete confidence that he knew what he was doing, and would take care of everything.

An odd thought, surely. She had no idea what made her think such things.

“Thanks.” He smiled down at her, stepping closer.

“You’re welcome.” Her lips parted. As she gazed up into his eyes, a sudden breathless tension overtook her. She felt lost and found all at the same time.

“Hey there, Clint!”

Josie jerked back as Doug Parson and Mike Burdett walked up the driveway, neighbors who had lived on this street as long as she could remember. Doug worked for the state road crews as a supervisor and Mike owned a trucking company. Each man carried a variety of hammers and other tools. Josie had already spoken to Mike’s wife, Rachel, about cleaning Gramps’s house every week, once Josie returned to Vegas.

“Hi, Josie.” Mike grinned at her.

“Hi, Mike. You two gentlemen here to help out Clint?”

Doug nodded, flashing a half smile. “Actually, Clint’s doing all the work. We’re just going to inspect it to make sure it’s up to par.”

Josie laughed at Doug’s teasing, impressed that these men would take time out of their busy day to help her grandfather. “Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much Gramps and I appreciate your help.”

“Ah, it’s no problem. Your grandparents have sure been there when my family needed help over the years.” Mike brushed aside her praise.

“Yeah, mine, too,” Doug declared.

No doubt Clint had called them together. Their generosity touched her deeply. Once again, Clint’s service reminded her that there were kind people in the world. That she wasn’t alone. And she made a resolve to lessen her hours at the pharmacy and start looking for ways to help others. It was time she had a life outside work.

“Good morning, neighbors. You ready to tackle this job?” Gramps appeared, dressed in his winter clothes and packing a beat-up red toolbox.

“Oh, no. Not you.” As he passed by Josie, she grabbed his arm and tugged him back.

His mouth dropped open in surprise. “I’m gonna help.”

“No, you’re not.” She could just imagine her elderly grandfather plummeting off the roof into a snowbank, followed by a frantic race to the hospital in Bridgeton.

“I’m sure not gonna sit inside while all the men are out here working,” Gramps said.

Josie rested her hands on her hips. “Well, you’re certainly not going up on the roof, either.”

They stood there facing one another, a silent battle of wills waging between them. Finally, Gramps relented. “Okay, I won’t go up on the roof. I can just be their fetch and carry man.”

She tilted her head and peered at him with suspicion. “You promise?”

He pursed his lips, his gaze dropping to the ground. He grumbled something about sitting around like an invalid while everyone else did the work, but finally nodded. “I promise.”

He stomped off to join the other men. Looking up, Josie’s eyes met Clint’s and he winked at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he stays safely on the ground.”

A gentle comfort settled over her and she smiled as the four men huddled together to discuss their repair strategy. Josie took that as a cue to go inside.

Gracie sat before the coffee table, leaning her elbows on top, with her chin in her hands. A bored expression clouded her eyes until Josie appeared. Then the girl stood up straight, a bright smile flashing across her face. “Where’s my dress?”

Josie laughed. “It’s in the back bedroom. Come on. Let’s go see if it fits.”

Taking Gracie’s hand, she led her into the back room. The dress fit beautifully, except the hem was too long.

“I’ll have to shorten it,” Josie said, and reached for the pin cushion.

The girl swirled and swayed, making the taffeta swish around her spindly legs. “Oh, it’s so pretty. Daddy will think I’m beautiful.”

“That’s because you are,” Josie said.

“Thank you.”

Another hug followed. Josie set the length of the hem, relishing this special time with Gracie. Pretending for just a few minutes that she was her mother.

Soon, they retired to the kitchen. An occasional thump and tapping on the roof told her the men were hard at work. As she reached for the flour and mixer, Josie couldn’t help feeling a sudden warmth deep inside her soul. The sense that God loved her, and had sent good men over to repair Gramps’s roof and this endearing child for Josie to love.

Grandma had told her the Lord used other people to perform His work. Maybe even Josie was God’s tool to help Clint, by making the dress for Gracie. She’d never thought of it that way before. And right now, she knew Gracie needed time with a mom. It felt so good to fill that role for the little girl.

Thirty minutes later, Gracie stood on a stool happily stirring sugar into the batter. “Dad and I are gonna go visit Santa down at Milton’s grocery store when he’s finished with the roof.”

“Oh?” Josie looked up as she reached inside the fridge for the eggs and milk.

“Yep, and I know just what I’m gonna ask Santa for, too.”

Josie hid a smile, wondering if she dared ask. She waited, thinking the girl might volunteer the information. She thought about the little porcelain doll, books, games and hair ties she’d purchased the day before to give the girl, and figured Gracie was at the age when she loved doll houses, nail polish and pretend makeup, too.

“And what would you like this year?” Josie finally asked.

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.” The girl hummed a tune as she popped several chocolate chips into her mouth and chomped down.

Josie shrugged this off. Maybe Gracie feared she might not get what she wanted if she told anyone but Santa.

When they pulled the first batch of cookies out of the oven, Gracie sampled one with relish.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Josie warned.

“Mmm, these are the best cookies I’ve ever had.”

“They are?” A feeling of harmony settled over Josie. For some reason, the little girl’s approval meant everything to her.

“Yes. Can I take some to Dad and the other men?”

“Sure.” Josie helped Gracie pull on her coat, then got a plate out of the cupboard and layered cookies on it before handing it to the girl.

“Careful, now. Hold the plate with both hands so they don’t spill.” She opened the door and the girl carried her offering outside. The screen door clapped closed behind her.

“Those are for me?” Josie heard Gramps’s gravelly voice coming from the front yard.

“Yep, and the other guys, too. Josie and I made them,” Gracie said.

Josie could just imagine the men devouring the soft cookies, and a smile of satisfaction curved her lips.

The buzzer sounded and she pulled the next batch out of the oven. As she sat at the table and placed dollops of dough onto the pan, she accidentally knocked Gracie’s red gloves to the floor. When she reached down to pick them up, a white piece of paper fell out of one glove. Josie couldn’t help noticing Santa’s name scrawled across the front flap in a child’s handwriting. She didn’t mean to pry, but the letter lay open for her view and the request was quite short. Expecting a request for various dolls and games, she quickly scanned it.

Dear Santa,

I’ve been extra good, so I know you’ll grant my wish. I want Josie for my mom. Dad doesn’t think I know he’s lonely, but he always looks so sad when we’re at home. And Josie and Grandpa Frank are lonely, too. We need to love each other. We should be a real family. That’s all I want.

Gracie Karen Hamilton.

Her hands trembling, Josie folded the letter and tucked it back inside the glove. Glancing over her shoulder, she felt a wave of guilt and helplessness. She shouldn’t have read the letter. No wonder Gracie didn’t want to tell her what she wanted for Christmas.

It touched Josie deeply to know that she was Gracie’s Christmas wish. That the little girl thought enough of her to want her for a mommy. And realizing these things made Josie wish her life could be different. That perhaps she and Clint could...

No! She mustn’t think that way. It wasn’t possible. She lived in Vegas. Clint lived here. It would never work.

But in her heart of hearts, Josie couldn’t help wishing she could be Gracie’s mother. She envisioned marrying Clint and celebrating next Christmas like a real family, right here in Camlin. They’d be so happy and in love. And he wouldn’t mind that she was unlovable and emotionally inaccessible. But that would mean she’d have to abandon her job in Vegas.

She shook her head, returning to reality. She’d messed up with her other fiancés. Her career had kept getting in the way. Clint and Gracie deserved someone that could be there for them at the drop of a hat. Not a workaholic who didn’t know when or if she’d be home to fix supper in the evenings. Besides, Clint wasn’t interested in her. His service here at Gramps’s house was a church assignment, nothing more.

And now what? How could Josie pretend she didn’t know the letter’s contents? How could she pretend she didn’t know Gracie’s true feelings? Or ignore her own loneliness?

And worse yet, how could she ever look at Clint in the same way?

* * *

Sitting at the table in Frank’s kitchen, Clint bit into a piece of divinity and smiled with satisfaction. Doug and Mike had already left, each carrying a plate laden with mounds of chocolate chip cookies and candy Josie had presented to them for their families to enjoy. In spite of telling himself this service project was just about taking care of Frank, Clint enjoyed Josie’s appreciation. Karen had always hidden out when people came to their home. Instead of scurrying to the back of the house somewhere, Josie had stayed out front and showered them with kindness.

Standing at the kitchen sink wearing a gingham-checked apron edged by red rickrack, Josie looked domestic and attractive. A strand of long hair hung across her flushed cheek, and Clint’s hand itched to reach out and feel the silky texture between his fingertips. It’d been so long since he’d held a woman in his arms, and he couldn’t help wishing...


Hop.
That’s the word you want, Grandpa Frank.” Gracie’s voice came from the living room, where she was practicing reading with Frank. Her voice brought Clint back to reality.

“I’m so relieved that’s finished and no one got hurt. In these slick conditions, you could have fallen off the roof,” Josie said, oblivious to his wayward musings.

“Actually, the roof is completely dry. The sun has done its work over the past few days, but the weatherman is forecasting another storm on its way. We got the work done just in time,” Clint said.

BOOK: The Forest Ranger's Christmas
10.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Jackaby by William Ritter
The New Neighbours by Costeloe Diney
Circus Shoes by Noel Streatfeild
The Alembic Valise by John Luxton
An Inch of Time by Peter Helton