The Forest Ranger's Promise. Leigh Bale
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here,” he said. “My dad died when I was a senior in high school and Mom couldn’t keep the ranch going even with my help. We sold off our land and that’s when I decided to get a college education, so I could become a forest ranger and help other ranchers. I’m really not an ogre.”
She blinked, seeming to think this over.
“Can you recommend a child care provider until school starts up in the fall who won’t care what I do for a living?” he asked.
She hesitated, then shook her head, her long auburn hair falling softly around her shoulders. “Just the women you’ve already tried. I pretty much keep to myself out at Opal Ranch and don’t have time to mingle a lot with the townsfolk.”
Something in her tone warned that he’d pushed her out of her comfort zone. She stared straight ahead, a frown curling the corners of her mouth. She didn’t clarify, but he suspected there was a reason she didn’t associate with the people in town and he couldn’t help wondering why. For now, he decided to change the topic. “Opal Ranch is your home?”
“Yes, we’re fifteen miles outside of town.”
“How many bands of sheep are you running?”
“Two.”
“With about four thousand head?”
“Closer to three.” At his questioning look, she continued. “We’ve had some setbacks.”
“Such as?”
“Such as nosy forest rangers,” she retorted.
Wow! She was definitely harboring ill feelings toward the previous ranger. He could see he had his work cut out for him to resolve the anger issues in this town. Her clipped answers told him she didn’t want to talk, but he should know this information as the new ranger. “How many acres of grazing land do you own?”
“Enough.”
He smiled at the quirky way her full lips pursed together in disapproval. “I’m only trying to get to know your needs as one of the permittees. I just want to help.”
“Are you laughing at me?”
He dropped the smile from his face, realizing she was dead serious. “Absolutely not.”
“Good.” She jutted her chin. “We have ten acres of corrals, eighty acres of hay land and another seventy acres of dry pasture, along with lambing and shearing sheds.”
“Sounds like you have a busy operation.”
“It’s not a sideline, if that’s what you mean. Some people come out here from the city, setting up a hobby ranch so they can play with the sheep and cows. For my family, it’s our livelihood and our way of life. My family has owned Opal Ranch for generations. It would kill me to lose our land and—” She clamped her mouth closed, as if realizing she was telling him too much. “I understand.”
She glanced at him, a doubtful frown creasing her brows. “Do you really?”
“Yes, I do. Really. You don’t like me very much.” He shouldn’t have said that. He’d always been too direct. Allison never liked that aspect of his personality. He called things as he saw them, but Allison preferred to play silent, sulking games. He’d never known a person who could hold a grudge as long as Allison.
Melanie glanced at him, her green eyes shooting daggers. “If you were me, would you like the ranger very much?”
“Sure. I’m a nice guy and I’ve never done anything to hurt you.”
She took a deep, exasperated breath before letting it go. “Surely they told you the problems stirred up by the last ranger here in Snyderville?”
“They?” he asked.
“Yeah, your bosses. The people you work for. They must have told you about the trouble the last ranger caused.”
“Yes, that’s why they brought me in. To help smooth all of that over.”
She snorted. “And how do you intend to do that?”
“One permittee at a time. I thought I’d start with you.”
“No.” She shook her head, staring straight ahead.
“You don’t even know me.”
“I think that’s best,” she said.
“And yet you helped me.”
“Wouldn’t you have done the same?” She tilted her head to look at him, her delicate features outlined in shadows. She seemed too dainty to be running a sheep ranch, and he got the impression she made up in spirit what she lacked in physical strength.
“Of course I would.” He met her eyes. “What did the other ranger do to upset you so much?”
“For one thing, he made a lot of promises he never kept.”
“I won’t do that. Not ever.” And he meant it.
“We’ll see.”
He sighed, realizing it would take time for him to prove himself.
She squirmed in her seat. “Look, can we change the subject?”
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
She didn’t bat an eye. “How old is your daughter?”
“Almost eleven.”
“My Anne is eleven.”
He peered through the darkness at the sleeping girl, finding her mouth open slightly as she breathed. She looked like a sweet child. A smaller version of Melanie, with a pert nose and cheeks sprinkled with freckles and auburn hair like her mom’s. “What grade is she in?”
“She’ll start sixth grade in the fall.”
“Shelley will be in the sixth grade, too. Maybe they can be friends.”
Melanie looked doubtful and then he remembered Anne’s accusation on the mountain. “Why does Anne blame me for her father’s death?”
Melanie sucked in a deep breath.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he added. “Is that getting back into a taboo subject?” He tried to tease her, to lighten things up a bit, but the look on her face told him it wasn’t working. He saw something in her eyes, something vulnerable and fearful. From the little he knew about this woman, he realized she’d been hurt and he sensed the pain went deeper than just the loss of her husband. What had happened to her?
She licked her top lip, seeming to choose her words carefully. “Let’s just say the last ranger wasn’t a nice man and let it go at that.”
Her revelation made Scott’s mind run rampant. He’d never met Ben Stimpson, but he’d heard that the man used some illegal threats to force the ranchers to do his bidding. Had Stimpson threatened Melanie?
Scott sensed a deep reticence in her words. Once her husband died, Ben could have helped Melanie and her daughter, making their lives much easier. Or he could have made things more difficult. Scott figured from Melanie’s comments that it had been the latter.
They didn’t speak much over the next few miles. When she pulled into Snyderville, he breathed a sigh of relief. One lonely streetlight guided their way down Main Street. The morning sun had just peeked over the eastern mountains and he was grateful they were all home safe.
Karen, her husband, Mike, and Scott’s range assistant, Jim Tippet, were all at his house to meet him. As Melanie pulled into the gravel driveway, they came outside fully dressed, Jim’s thinning hair sticking up in places.
“Thank goodness you’re home. Are you okay?” Karen asked as she rushed over to take Scott’s arm.
“I’m fine, thanks to Mrs. McAllister.” Scott smiled at Melanie, who stood back with her arms folded. Anne continued sleeping in the truck.