The Forest Ranger's Promise

by Bale, Leigh

  Was the fire really that close? Surely they had time to round up the lambs and herd them out of danger. If only she hadn’t been working so intently inside the house and had seen the smoke sooner.

  Her heart beat madly in her chest as she bounced along the rutted road, which was little more than a trail used only by her. She saw the smoke backlit by flame. The sheep were huddled in a far corner of the fenced pasture, milling around nervously. But where were the girls—?

  There! Relief flooded Melanie when she saw them among the sheep. Bob ran along the perimeter, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he urged the flock toward the fence. He’d done what he’d been trained to do. Move the sheep as far away from danger as possible.

  Thick clouds of smoke filtered through the truck vents, making it difficult to breathe. Melanie stopped the truck and hopped out. She jumped the fence and dashed through the alfalfa toward the girls.

  “Anne! Shelley!” she screamed at the top of her voice.

  “Momma!” Anne cried.

  Melanie scooped the two girls into her arms, kissing them both, scanning their faces for injuries. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, but I can’t breathe,” Anne said.

  Shelley coughed, a thick hacking sound.

  “Come on.” Taking each of their hands, she ran toward the truck, half dragging the girls behind her. She would not let go no matter what.

  Scott met them at the truck. Sitting on the tractor, he pointed toward the house in the distance. “Get them out of here right now.”

  “Can’t we move the sheep?” Melanie shouted over the roar of the tractor engine.

  “No time. Take care of our girls. Go! I’ll protect the sheep.” He looked toward the west and his eyes narrowed, as if he were calculating how much time he had before the flames engulfed him. And then he turned and did something that stunned Melanie and stopped her breath cold.

  He stepped down off the tractor, pulled her close, and kissed her. Once. Quick and fierce. And then he was gone.

  Waves of emotion trembled over Melanie’s body. She couldn’t let him go. She couldn’t!

  “No, Scott!” she cried. “It’s not worth your life. Come with us. We won’t leave you.”

  “Get going!” he yelled back as he settled into the driver’s seat and shifted gears. The engine backfired as he pressed the accelerator and moved forward.

  Melanie yelled for him to come back, but doubted he could hear above the engine. Stubborn, foolish man.

  Watching him go, she stood there frozen. Helpless. Clasping the girls’ hands like a lifeline. Fierce winds created by the fire whipped her long ponytail across her face.

  “Daddy!” Shelley screamed for her father, tugging on Melanie’s hand to run after him.

  Melanie held firm. No matter what, she had to protect the children. She had to get them out of here.

  Scott ignored them as he lowered the disk plow and drove along the outer edge of the pasture fence. The blade gouged up giant furrows of earth as he created a trail of fire line to protect the sheep.

  “Melanie, please don’t let him go,” Shelley whimpered.

  Even Anne jerked on Melanie’s hand. “Mom! Make him come back.”

  Melanie couldn’t do anything to stop him. There wasn’t time. She had to trust Scott. She had to trust the Lord. Scott was an experienced ranger and firefighter and knew what he was doing. He trusted her to take care of their kids. To get them out of here safely.

  She couldn’t let him down.

  “Come on, girls. Get in.” She pulled them with her over to the truck and pushed them inside, then whistled for the dog. “Bob! Come!”

  With a sharp bark, the dog came running and jumped inside, then Melanie closed the door. The animal panted and huddled with the girls on the seat.

  As Melanie turned the truck to return to the ranch, she saw flames licking along the outer trail leading toward Simpson’s Meadow. The sky above looked blood-red, surrounded by black smoke.

  The girls swiveled in their seat, their noses pressed against the back window as they stared at Scott. Both of them sobbed, sniffing loudly. Shelley kept calling for her father, her pitiful cries shattering Melanie’s heart into a thousand pieces.

  “Daddy. Daddy.”

  Looking in her rearview mirror, Melanie shivered in spite of the tremendous heat. A wall of flame engulfed the area where the tractor had been and she prayed silently, harder than ever before in her life.

  Please, God. Please don’t take him from me now. Don’t let him get hurt. Please let him live.

  Oh, Scott! Her common sense told her he couldn’t endure this. No matter how strong and self-assured he was, no man could survive this fire.

  She couldn’t lose Scott. Not now when she realized how much she loved him. She loved him even as she realized she’d lost him. And it was her fault. He may have lost his life saving their girls. Fighting to save Opal Ranch.

  Her emotions overwhelmed her and she wiped her eyes, trying to see through the blur of tears and smoke. Trying to be strong once more.

  Please, Lord. Please don’t take him from me now. Have mercy on us. Please.

  The roar of fire filled Scott’s ears, deafening him. All he heard was the pounding of his heart as the disk plow reached the end of fence and beyond. Ten, twenty, thirty yards.

  Adrenaline pumped through his body. The fire circled and swirled before him. Pain embraced his body, the heat almost unbearable. Smoke clogged his lungs and he coughed violently. He had to protect his lungs from the hot air. Had to get inside his fire shelter.

  One thought brought him solace. His girls were safe—all three of them. If he died today, they would live. His precious daughters and Melanie.

  Then he felt a lance of doubt. He’d failed them. He had kept his promises to the ranchers, but not to his girls. He’d failed to protect Opal Ranch. Failed to keep his promise to Shelley that he’d never leave her.

  What would happen to Shelley with him gone? Would Melanie look after his little girl? Would Melanie love and raise Shelley like her own? The thought of his innocent child being raised in foster homes nearly broke him.

  And gave him the will to fight.

  He couldn’t outrun the fire. His best chance for survival was to ride it out. He might have one chance, if he hurried. Maybe—

  Flames danced all around the perimeter he’d just created, so close he could spit at them. He jerked his face and neck shroud up to cover his nose, protecting his lungs from the toxic smoke. He killed the engine. As he scrambled off the tractor, he reached back for his fire shelter. Even through the Nomex gloves, his hands burned like they’d touched a hot stove.

  He wasn’t going to make it. He’d run out of time.

  Don’t think that! Keep going. Don’t quit. Think of Shelley. Think of Melanie.

  So much to live for. So much to love.

  Through the black haze, he tried to find a spot well away from the grass, brush and other fuels. He tried to see through the haze of heat waves, looking so much like a mirage. The sound of the fire popping, crackling and sizzling seemed to taunt him. The flames snaked along the edge of the fence, coming closer. Seeking him out. Tracking him.

  His body pumped with adrenaline, but he still felt the pain. The blisters forming on his ears, hands and face. The stifling heat, so hot he could barely breathe.

  Smoke stung his eyes and he blinked. His chest heaved as he gasped for air. His fingers fumbled with the red ring on his fire shelter. He pulled hard, then tore off the plastic bag. Clasping the handles, he shook furiously to unfold the shelter. The winds whipped it, trying to steal it away. He couldn’t hold the shelter straight, but he gripped it like steel. Nothing would rip it out of his hands except death.

  He’d made a promise to Anne. And to himself. He’d vowed to keep Opal Ranch safe. To protect Anne and Melanie, no matter what. To be there for Shelley.

  He choked, knowing he may have failed in his promises, but he’d tried. So hard. He’d dallied too long, trying to save the o
rphan lambs. Trying to save the ranch.

  Walls of flame surrounded him, closing in. Panic climbed up his throat, but he fought it off. Fought to follow the safety training ingrained in him over years and years of work and practice.

  All he saw were flames and smoke, moving fast. So fast.

  He was going to die, a horrible, painful death. He wasn’t going to make it.

  Not this time.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Melanie pulled into the yard at Opal Ranch and stared, her fingers gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened. Firefighters dressed in yellow shirts, their faces black with filth, tromped through her fields and corrals. Pumper trucks, crawler tractors, engines and trucks filled the yard as men dug up her hay field to build fire line. Thank goodness Scott had already brought in the hay. He never dawdled and always took such good care of the ranch.

  Thinking about him brought a fresh round of tears to dampen her smoke-burned eyes.

  The girls sat on the seat and stared toward the meadow, their faces ashen with shock. They’d just watched a wall of fire engulf Scott and seemed to be in a daze.

  Shocked with disbelief.

  “You girls wait here. Don’t move from this spot.” Melanie got out and tried to run to Jim Tippet. She staggered, her legs trembling.

  “Jim! Hurry!” She tried to yell, but her voice came out as a soft croak. Her throat burned with smoke.

  “Where’s Scott?” he asked.

  She pointed, unable to contain the sobs shaking her body. “He’s got my tractor there in the south pasture. He…he’s trying to build fire line to protect the sheep. He’s in danger. Please! Hurry!”

  Clouds of smoke billowed around the south road, cutting the pasture off from view. The lambs and Scott were nowhere to be seen. Melanie covered her mouth with one hand, trying to stifle the sobs coming from her throat. Scott and the sheep must have been consumed by fire.

  “Please help him.”

  Jim must have heard her weak plea as her knees sank beneath her. He caught her, his soot-covered face filled with anguish. “Scott’s out there?”

  She could only nod.

  “Troy!” Jim yelled to another man who came running. “Take Mrs. McAllister and her children up to the house and stay with them. Get them out of here if we aren’t able to contain the fire.”

  Troy nodded. “Will do.”

  Jim lifted his radio to his mouth and called for Scott. “Tippet to Ennison, come in.”

  No response.

  More urgently. “Tippet to Ennison, do you read me?”

  A static void filled the airwaves with nothingness.

  Jim headed toward a fire crew. Without breaking stride, he hollered orders. “Get on the phone to Evanston. I want an ambulance and chopper here right now. Don’t take no for an answer. You men come with me.”

  Troy gathered up Anne and Shelley, doing the best he could to comfort the three sobbing females. Melanie didn’t want to leave, but she must think of the girls. She couldn’t do anything for Scott, but she could be there for Shelley.

  As ordered, Troy led them all to the house, propping his Pulaski beside the back porch where Melanie refused to go any farther.

  “We’ll sit here on the porch swing,” she croaked out.

  She must have some damage to her lungs. She tried to take a deep breath, to settle her nerves, but ended up coughing. When she gained control again, she spoke to Troy. “Do you have a medic who can look at the children? They breathed in a lot of smoke and I want to make sure they’re okay.”

  “Sure. I’ll be right back.” He gave her a compassionate smile before trotting off to find someone.

  Melanie sat on the back porch with Shelley and Anne, the three of them huddled together as they stared toward the south pasture. Melanie wrapped an arm around each girl and they all sobbed quietly.

  Inconsolable. The pain was almost too much to bear.

  The whap-whap of chopper blades beating overhead brought their heads up. They watched as the chopper flew low in the east, dropping its load of red retardant on the front of the fire. Melanie knew it would slow the progress of the flames so the ground crews could build fire line to protect the Donaldson and Taylor ranches. This wasn’t the first wildfire she’d seen during her years as a rancher, but this was the closest she’d come to losing her ranch. And the first time she’d lost someone she loved to fire.

  She trembled with shock and grief. She dreaded what the fire crew might find in the south pasture. Once they got over the disbelief, how could she explain to Shelley that her daddy wasn’t coming back? How could she understand it herself? Everything had happened so fast, she didn’t know what to think.

  “It’s my fault.” Anne’s voice sounded thin with tears. “He promised to protect Opal Ranch and he did. But I didn’t think he’d get ki-killed.”

  Melanie hugged the girls tighter, barely able to do more than whisper a reply. “It’s no one’s fault, sweetheart. He was doing his job, fighting to protect all of us.”

  “But…but why didn’t he…come with us?” Shelley wept.

  “He thought he could protect our lambs. He was giving us time to get away safely.”

  “Is Daddy dead?” Shelley asked.

  “I don’t know, sweetie.” It did no good to pretend or to give false hope. Until Jim found Scott’s body, Melanie refused to give up hope. Refused to believe such a strong, wonderful man could die so young.

  Scott! Thinking of him brought a renewed ache to Melanie’s heart. Tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t brush them away. Her hands were busy holding the girls close. Trying to be strong while her entire world crashed down around her head. How could she stand to let Scott go?

  “If Daddy dies, I’ll be a full dogie. I won’t have anyone.” Shelley’s voice sounded like a whimper.

  “That’s not true.” Melanie pressed her damp cheek against the child’s.

  “You’ll always have us,” Anne said.

  “That’s true,” Melanie agreed. “I love you so much, sweetheart. We want you always, don’t we Anne?”

  Anne sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve as she nodded. “Sure, we… We’re sisters. You can always st-stay with us. Forever.”

  “Even if I’m a ranger’s kid?”

  Anne nodded again. “I didn’t mean it. Your dad’s not a dirty rotten ranger. He’s a rancher like us. Only a real rancher would fight so hard to save his flock.”

  “You’re wrong, sweetheart. A real ranger fights just as hard,” Melanie added.

  In that instant, she realized that she loved Shelley. As much as she loved her own daughter. She couldn’t help thinking about Christ’s unconditional love for all mankind. A Bible verse in the book of John came to mind.

  Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

  Scott had done this for them. He had been willing to give his own life to save them. To give them time to flee to safety. To keep his promise and protect Opal Ranch.

  No! He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. She refused to believe it. Not until she knew for sure.

  “Shh,” she soothed the two girls’ tears. “Let’s just wait until Jim gets back, okay? Maybe your dad is fine and we’re worrying for nothing. He knows how to fight wildfire. He’s so good at everything he does. Let’s just wait.”

  Silence overcame them then, but their anguish was palpable. A heavy, hollow emptiness filled Melanie. Common sense told her Scott could not have survived the blaze. And yet, she knew she must have faith. She must trust in the Lord and bend to His will.

  She noticed the wind shifted again, blowing toward the south. Taking the stench of smoke with it. How she wished her broken heart could take wing as easily.

  “Hey! What’s that?” Anne pointed.

  Through the haze of smoke shrouding the south road, a group of six men appeared, carrying a stretcher.

  “Daddy!” Shelley bolted to her feet.

  Melanie held onto the girl, not wanting he
r to see her father if he was badly burned or dead.

  “Let me go! It’s Daddy.” The child squirmed to be free.

  “Wait a minute, dear. Just wait.”

  As the men walked into the yard, Melanie saw a movement on the stretcher. A man’s hand lifted and clasped Jim Tippet’s arm.

  Scott! He was alive.

  But in what condition? Would he live? Even if he was scarred, Melanie couldn’t help but love him with all her heart. She’d take him any way she could get him.

  “Scott!” Anne took off at a dead sprint and Melanie could no longer hold Shelley back.

  They all ran, pounding down the steps of the porch, racing across the yard like gazelles.

  Shelley got there first. She was the fastest.

  “Daddy! Daddy!”

  The firefighters set the stretcher on the loading dock by the barn, then cleared a path. Jim stood at Scott’s head, grinning like a fool as he motioned for the medic.

  Melanie stopped, looking at the man she loved.

  Scott. He was alive. Here and now. Safe.

  His bloodshot eyes were no more than white circles in a black canvas of soot. His eyebrows had been singed off, his hair damp with sweat. Shelley threw herself at him and he grimaced, then flashed a white smile. Anne stood back, smiling with uncertainty.

  “Hi, babe.” His voice sounded raw as he greeted his daughter.

  Speaking set off a spasm of uncontrollable coughing. Acrid smoke must have burned his lungs and throat. His clothing was covered with soot.

  “Real gentle, sweetie.” Jim tugged on Shelley’s shoulders so she didn’t hurt her father.

  “Are all our crews okay?” Scott asked Jim.

  “Yes, they’re all fine.”

  Melanie couldn’t believe that Scott’s first concern was for his men. Her gaze quickly took in the damage. Small blisters dotted his face, ears and hands. His dear, calloused hands, which worked and served so willingly.

  The burns would soon heal and weren’t too serious. But what about his legs?

  As an emergency technician examined him, she scanned Scott’s limbs, searching for damage. Praying he’d be able to walk again.