The Forest Ranger's Christmas

by Leigh Bale

  He glanced at his daughter, his eyes filled with questions.

  “It’s a surprise,” was all Gracie would say.

  Filled with mystery, Josie pried an edge of paper free of the tape and ripped it open. Dropping the casing of gift wrap to the floor, she held a small blue dish with white speckles. The sides were slightly uneven, and indented with small finger marks. As if Gracie had molded the clay and created the dish herself.

  A shallow gasp came from Clint, but when Josie looked his way, he sat motionless, his face completely blank and pale, his shoulders rigid. Something about his demeanor told her this wasn’t an ordinary dish. It was special, but she didn’t understand the significance. Or why Clint seemed upset.

  Something was wrong here. Something Josie didn’t understand.

  Gracie waited for her verdict. And she wasn’t about to disappoint the girl.

  “It’s absolutely beautiful. I love it,” Josie said, meaning every word. No one had ever given her something like this. Something that was a part of them.

  Gracie smiled with pleasure. “You can set it on your dresser and put your earrings in it. I made it myself. And every time you see it, you can think of me.”

  Josie hugged the girl tightly. “I will. And I’ll treasure it all the more. Thank you. It’s wonderful.”

  “Really? You like it?” Gracie looked up and smiled, her eyes shining with joy.

  “Really. It’s the loveliest present I’ve ever received. And knowing you made it means even more to me.” And she realized it was true. If she had to choose between her savings account and this child’s gift, she thought she would choose the dish.

  She’d choose Clint, too. What did her job matter if she couldn’t be with the man she loved? She’d been hurt before, but she had to tell Clint how she felt. That she loved him. That she wanted to take one more chance. If only he was willing to do the same.

  “Come see what we got for you.” Gramps drew the child over to open the oodles of presents they’d wrapped for her.

  Josie studied the dish more intently. The shiny ceramic finish felt smooth against her fingertips. She turned it over and read the childish writing on the bottom: “To Mom. Happy Mother’s Day. From Gracie.”

  Josie’s mind spun. Her throat felt suddenly dry as sandpaper. Her eyes widened and she glanced at Gracie, then over to Clint. He met her gaze for just a moment, his eyes dark and filled with misgivings. Then he looked away. He sat there, watching his daughter, as she plopped down on the tan carpet and happily opened a box filled with toy dishes and a miniature oven made especially for kids.

  “Oh, I love it,” Gracie exclaimed. “Now I can bake cookies just like Josie does.”

  Hugs and more exclamations followed as Gramps helped the child remove the packaging, and showed her how to work the oven. Josie didn’t hear their words. Not even when Gramps opened the new dress suit she had purchased for him. Her ears felt clogged, as if she were underwater.

  Gracie handed her a gift from Clint. Floating on autopilot, Josie tore back the cheerful wrapping and gazed at the silver-framed picture of her and Gracie, taken the day they’d cut Christmas trees and built a snowman. It was such a personal reminder of a wonderful time. Josie loved it, thinking the gold watch she’d purchased for Clint paled in comparison.

  She looked up, but found him occupied with his daughter. When the girl moved away, Josie stepped near and placed the blue dish safely aside on Grandma’s hutch, where it wouldn’t get broken.

  “Thank you for the picture. I’ll cherish it always,” she said.

  “You’re welcome. And thank you for the watch.” Clint held up his left wrist, with a half smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “Did you know about this?” She indicated the blue dish.

  He lowered his head and nodded. “But I didn’t know she was going to give it to you.”

  Josie gazed out the window, at the darkness of the town, and the Christmas lights flickering on the house across the street. “She made it for her mom, didn’t she?”

  He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. Josie knew it was true. Coupled with Gracie’s Santa letter, Josie understood the significance of the gift. Its meaning seeped deep into her soul. Out of all the women in the world, Gracie had chosen her.

  “I wish I could be her mom.” Josie spoke low, so Gracie and Gramps wouldn’t overhear.

  Clint stood abruptly, as though he didn’t want to hear her words. He paused, looking across the room for several heart-pounding moments. Josie waited, a hard lump forming in her throat.

  “It wouldn’t work. I...I just can’t.” His eyes looked flat and guarded.

  “Why not?” She hoped and prayed he wouldn’t reject her, as everyone else had done. If only he could let go of his painful past. If only he’d let her in.

  He met her eyes. “You’ve been engaged twice already. What would be different this time?”

  She gave a rasping laugh. “I think you’ve misunderstood something, Clint. Yes, I’ve been engaged twice, but I never broke it off. They did.”

  “They did?” His expression clouded with disbelief.

  “Yes. I was willing to get married. I know my faith hasn’t always been strong, but I do have values. My first fiancé never really wanted to marry me. We were engaged three weeks. He just thought I’d move in with him once he proposed. But he was wrong. I want commitment from the man I love. I’ve already told you my second fiancé didn’t want children. When he found out I did, he ended it, not me.”

  “And why do you think being with me would be any different?” Clint asked.

  “For one thing, you’re not a jerk.”

  He gave a harsh laugh. “I’m not so sure about that. I don’t think I can give you what you’re looking for. What you really deserve.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I may not be able to offer you the commitment you seek. I have to put Gracie first. I can’t do anything that might jeopardize her happiness.”

  “And you don’t think I’d make the both of you happy?”

  “It’s not that. I...I just can’t afford the risk. She’s already lost one mother. I can’t take the chance that she might lose another one.”

  Josie turned with another question on her lips, but he moved away. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. He seemed stiff and unapproachable. Closed.

  “I think it’d be best if you took the dish back,” Josie said.

  He shook his head. “No, that would hurt Gracie too much. She wants you to have it.”

  Josie accepted his final word without argument, but inside she was screaming. She felt as though she was usurping Karen’s place, and she wasn’t welcome. If Karen was alive and Clint had divorced her, Josie might know what to do. But she didn’t know how to fight against the woman’s memory or Clint’s guilt over her death.

  As they finished opening their gifts, Josie was grateful for Gracie’s consuming presence to conceal the underlying tension between her and Clint. But it didn’t escape Gramps’s notice. He shrugged into his new suit coat to try it on. When Josie stepped into the kitchen momentarily to fetch a black plastic garbage bag to stash the used gift wrap in, he intercepted her on the pretense of asking if she thought the coat fit.

  “It’s beautiful. You look so handsome,” she told him as she smoothed the fabric over his chest.

  He patted her hand, a look of concern creasing his brow. “You okay, muffin?”

  “Yeah, sure.” She nodded and pasted a smile on her face, but she couldn’t fool Gramps.

  “She’s just a lonely little girl who wants a mommy,” he said.

  “I know, Gramps. And I can’t tell you how badly I wish I could be that for her. But there’s no sense in wanting something that can never be. Not if Clint won’t let it happen.”

  Her grandfather opened his mo
uth to say something, but she stepped away and returned to the living room, feeling as though she was merely going through the motions. And later, as Clint bundled Gracie up and prepared for the short drive home, Josie watched him with misgivings.

  She longed to tell him that she wanted to be with him. And to ask if maybe he could love her, too. She’d already opened the door, but he hadn’t wanted to step through it. He’d have to reconcile Karen’s death in his own mind, first. If he ever could.

  As it stood, a life together wasn’t going to happen. Not for them. And Josie couldn’t help thinking this was the best and the worst Christmas she’d ever had.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Over the next two days, Josie put away the Christmas ornaments, paid the bills, washed all Gramps’s laundry and stocked his kitchen with groceries. As he helped her put the food away in the cupboard, he stared at the cans he held in each hand. Amazement crinkled his brow.

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “What?” She slid a loaf of bread onto the counter and turned.

  He held up the cans, his eyes shining with awe and wonder. “I can read these labels. This one is vegetable beef and this one is chicken noodle. Ma would be amazed if she knew.”

  Josie hugged him. “She knows. And I’m sure she’s proud of you, Gramps. I know I sure am.”

  He placed the cans inside the cupboard and closed the door. “You don’t have to leave, you know,” he said.

  “I know. But I do, Gramps. I have to go back to work.”

  His eyes misted and he brushed at them with one hand. “I’m missing you already.”

  He pulled her into his arms and held her close. For a few moments, Josie felt like that little girl he’d been comforting all her life.

  “You could come visit me in Vegas for a couple of weeks,” she suggested. “It’s much warmer in the winter months. We don’t get much snow.”

  “I think I’d miss the snow. It wouldn’t feel like home.”

  Yes, he was probably right. But she couldn’t think about it that way. Leaving was hard enough already.

  She turned to fold up the plastic bags and put them away in the broom closet. A good excuse to hide her tears. “I’ll be back in two weeks. As the weather gets warmer, I think I’ll thin out the tulip bulbs in Grandma’s garden. It’s getting a bit overgrown.”

  “That would be nice. You gonna say goodbye to Clint and Gracie before you go?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Gracie called me this morning and was in tears over the phone. I doubt a personal visit to say goodbye would make things any easier on her.”

  Or me, for that matter.

  “You know, sometimes folks don’t seem to know what’s best for them. Sometimes they need a little help to figure things out.”

  She tilted her head. “What do you mean by that, Gramps?”

  He shrugged. “Oh, nothing. Just the ramblings of an old man.”

  He turned and walked into the living room, and she let him go. If he was referring to her and Clint, she’d rather let the subject drop. Pursuing Clint when he obviously didn’t want to be with her would do nothing but bring them both more unhappiness and embarrassment. She didn’t want to go, but she had little choice.

  Or did she?

  She thought of staying and trying to live on Gramps’s meager retirement funds. Her modest savings account could help supplement them, but she had no idea what they’d do when the money ran out. Gramps needed his medicine. They needed clothes, electricity and food. She’d feel like a freeloader if she cut into his skimpy income without earning her keep. And without a job here in Camlin, she couldn’t earn a dime. Which meant she needed to return to Vegas, where she had a good job waiting for her.

  That night, they spent a quiet evening at home, watching TV and chatting together about her return trip in two weeks. It wouldn’t be easy, but she figured she’d have to drive home at least once a month to visit. Long, tiring trips that would sap her gasoline budget as well as her energy. But it’d give her something to look forward to. And it’d be worth it to ensure Gramps had what he needed. In the meantime, she’d call him every other day, just to make sure he was doing okay.

  If only she dared call Clint. Just to hear the smile in his voice. To know he was still there. But that would only prolong the pain.

  The next morning, she loaded up her car and kissed Gramps goodbye.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “And I love you, muffin.”

  Opening the door, she glanced in the back. A heavy quilt had been spread across the seat. Gramps had mentioned it earlier. He’d put it there, in case she broke down and had to sit in the freezing cold while she waited for a tow truck.

  Thinking little of it, she climbed inside, waved and drove down the street. Looking back in her rearview mirror, she studied Gramps’s lone image, trying to commit it to memory. At his age, this could be the last time she ever saw him, and she didn’t want to let it go.

  Sudden tears burned her eyes and she brushed them away. She couldn’t help gazing at Clint’s house with longing. Were he and Gracie inside? Or had he gone in to work that morning? How she wished he could let go of his guilt over Karen’s death. How she wished she could convince him to take a second chance on love. To trust the Lord to heal his broken heart.

  In an effort to distract her morose thoughts, she turned on the radio. Over an hour later, she was driving through a mountain pass and could get nothing but static. She flipped the radio off and heard a rustling in the backseat. Probably her Christmas gifts settling with the movement of the car.

  Focusing on the slick road ahead, Josie paid it no mind, until the noise came again. She glanced back. The heavy quilt bunched and moved, as though something beneath it was alive.

  Josie gave a startled yelp. What on earth?

  The movement ceased abruptly. What was going on?

  Josie pulled over and stopped the car. She got out, sucking back a quick breath as the winter wind cut through her with full force. Her teeth chattered as she stepped over a mud puddle and opened the back door. Reaching inside, she grabbed a handful of the quilt and gave a hard jerk.

  “Gracie!”

  The girl popped up off the floor. She was wearing blue jeans and her shiny red coat, and her hair stood on end, filled with static electricity from being beneath the quilt.

  “Hi, Josie!”

  “What are you doing here?”

  But Josie didn’t need to ask. In a flash, her mind filled with understanding. And the resulting ramifications.

  The little stowaway sat up on the seat and folded her arms, her jaw locked with determination. “I decided if you’re leaving Camlin, then I’m leaving, too.”

  Josie shivered in the cold. Waving the girl over, she climbed in beside her and sat down, pulling the door closed so they could talk for a few minutes without freezing to death.

  “Your dad will be so worried about you. Does he know where you are?”

  Gracie shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t let me come, if he knew.”

  Oh, no. Clint must be worried sick by now. And Josie didn’t want him to think she’d kidnapped Gracie. In a few minutes, she’d whip out her cell phone and try to call him...if she could get a connection here in these mountains.

  “But if you leave Camlin, what will he do without you? Don’t you love your dad?” Josie asked, trying to get the girl to think about what she’d done.

  “Of course I love Dad. But don’t you love him, too?”

  What a blunt question for such a little girl. “Yes, I do.”

  Why deny it? Gracie knew the truth. Kids had an uncanny way of seeing things adults tried to hide. Everyone thought children were so resilient, but they weren’t. Not really. They just didn’t have a choice. They had to survive what the adults in their life forced u
pon them. But children knew things. Especially a child as smart as this one.

  “I knew you loved Daddy. And he loves you, too,” Gracie said.

  If only that were true. “You know I’ll have to turn around and take you back,” Josie said.

  Gracie nodded, a satisfied smile curving her lips. “Yes, I thought so.”

  Josie stared at her in surprise. Then she couldn’t help laughing. She hugged Gracie, unable to stay angry at her no matter how hard she tried. Especially since they loved each other so much.

  “I love you, Josie. I don’t want you to leave.” The girl’s voice was muffled against Josie’s blue sweater.

  “I know, honey. I love you, too. I don’t want to leave, either, but sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do.”

  Gracie drew back, her high forehead creased with confusion. “Why?”

  “Because adults have to earn a living. And my job is in Vegas.” Josie didn’t know how to explain to to her about guilt, fear, responsibility, bills and all the other difficult things she would undoubtedly learn about as she grew older. Or explain that the girl’s father couldn’t seem to heal from the guilt he felt over her mother’s suicide.

  Josie took a deep, settling breath. “Okay, climb up front. We’ve got to take you back home.”

  She opened the door. A blast of chilling air caused her to hurry. Gracie scrambled overtop the seat backs and slid into place.

  With the doors closed, Josie gripped the steering wheel, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe this had happened. No doubt Clint would be worried by now. She reached for her cell phone and tried to call. As suspected, she couldn’t get any reception on this lonely mountain pass.

  “Put on your seat belt,” she told the girl.

  Gracie complied and Josie started the engine before edging back onto the road. She did a U-turn and headed back toward Camlin.

  Minutes passed. The closer they got to home, the more anxious Gracie became—staring out the windshield, shifting in her seat, fidgeting nervously.

  “You okay?” Josie asked.

  She glanced over with a worried frown. “You think Daddy’s gonna be mad at me for what I did?”