Falling for the Forest Ranger

by Leigh Bale

  “I’m not babying them. I’m working to get results we can all live with.” He set the basket on the picnic table.

  Biting her tongue, Zoë spread out a thin cloth, then unpacked their lunch. She kept her face toward the stream, watching Jonah.

  Tanner stood at the edge of the table, hands in his pockets. Zoë quashed the urge to apologize. Not when she really believed he was wrong in his tactics. And frankly, she had the power to override him. She didn’t want to do that and cause more friction between them, but she’d do it if she had to.

  “At least we got them each to agree to the screens,” he said lamely.

  She handed him a paper plate with a turkey-and-Swiss-cheese sandwich and a handful of grapes and rippled potato chips on the side. “Three down and zillions more to go.”

  His frosty gaze brushed past hers in a dismissive glance. “We’ll deal with each of them.”

  “Hey, I saw little fish swimming in the stream,” Jonah gasped as he joined them. “But they don’t have any fins. Just a long tail.”

  He plopped down on the bench and snatched up a sandwich, seemingly oblivious to the dark stares from the adults nearby.

  “That’s nice, sweetheart. But I’ll bet they’re tadpoles, not fish,” Zoë said.

  “Tadpoles?” Jonah’s brow crinkled as he took a bite and chewed.

  “Baby frogs. You saw them once in Portland, remember? And we need to bless the food before we eat it.” She answered patiently, surprised at her serene voice when she was feeling anything but calm inside. Why could she maintain her composure with Jonah but not with Tanner?

  Conscious of Tanner’s troubled frown resting on her, she offered a quick prayer. She and Tanner ate their lunches in silence, listening to Jonah’s happy chatter. She answered the child’s melee of questions about tadpoles with quick, succinct sentences. Only when Zoë brought out the cookies did Tanner speak to her again.

  “These are delicious. They taste just like the ones my grandma used to make. Soft and chocolaty.” He held up his fourth cookie, a big bite taken out of the side as he chewed with relish.

  “Thank you.” At least she’d done something right today. But she didn’t like the tension between them. She didn’t like feeling like an ogre.

  Later, Zoë packed everything up while Tanner went to the creek with Jonah. At one point, she looked up and saw Tanner holding her son’s hand, assisting the boy so he could cross the water without falling in. Seeing this man helping her little son reminded her that Derek was gone and wouldn’t be coming back.

  Thinking about her husband caused her throat to ache, as though an icy fist squeezed it tight. How she longed for the companionship and intimacy she’d shared with her husband. Someone to talk to who really cared.

  Someone who loved her as much as she loved him.

  Shaking off her black mood, she returned the basket to the truck and got out her hip waders and sample kit. At the side of Clear Creek, she pulled on the green rubber waders. Then she opened her kit and took out several empty, tubelike glass vials. She dipped some into the water and some into the muddy bank for soil samples. As she pressed the cap onto the last vial and labeled the little jar, she became aware of Tanner standing nearby with Jonah.

  “You taking some samples?” Tanner said.

  “Yep.” She slipped the vial into her pocket before reaching for her fishnet. Holding still as the water swirled around her knees, she waited until a trout swam by. With quick movements, she scooped up the fish with the net. Keeping the thrashing animal in the water, she leaned down and gently clasped it with her hands, turning it upside down so its gleaming white belly faced her. The fish immediately quieted as she inspected it with her hands.

  “Rainbow trout?” Tanner asked.

  “Yes, eight inches long and in good health.” She didn’t look up as she measured the fish against the notches carved in the handle of the net.

  She let the fish go and it zipped away while she pulled out a small notebook and jotted down the information.

  “You’ve obviously handled a lot of fish, yet you’ve never gone fishing.”

  “That’s right.” She didn’t offer an explanation. She hadn’t thought about it until now, but she never seemed to have enough extra time for leisure activities. Until recently. Although their scheduled fishing trip was mostly about Jonah, she also looked forward to the experience. But she didn’t want to tell Tanner that. He might get the wrong idea.

  “Okay, that’s it. I’m done for now.” She stowed her notebook in the pocket of her shirt, then reached for a boulder to grasp so she could pull herself out of the stream. She found Tanner’s hand in front of her, his long fingers extended. Surprised by his offering, she gazed up at his stony face for several moments. As he pulled her up, she felt his great physical strength. She didn’t look at him as she rinsed the mud from her waders, dried them off, then folded them to carry back to the truck.

  Jonah sped ahead of them, hopping over clumps of grass, kicking at a rock and laughing. Having a great time.

  “I appreciate your getting those samples.” Tanner spoke beside her.

  An unexplainable irritation gnawed at her gut. “It’s my job.”

  “I know. But I didn’t even think about it, until I saw you doing it.”

  She faced him. “And why is that so surprising, Tanner?”

  “I, um... It’s not.” His face flushed with embarrassment, his hands in his pockets like a little kid who’d just been caught stealing a pack of gum.

  “It’s your strategy in dealing with the farmers I don’t agree with,” he said.

  “Is that right?” She bit back a harsher response.

  His shoulders relaxed somewhat and his gaze softened. “Look, I didn’t mean to offend you, Zoë. I don’t know many women who would tromp through a stream to gather mud samples,” he said.

  His confession left her speechless for several moments. “We definitely have different methods. I’d like to take these samples to my office now, if you don’t mind.”

  Turning, she kept walking, conscious of him following behind. Back in the truck, they didn’t speak much as Tanner drove them down the mountain and back to town. In the supervisor’s parking lot, Zoë gathered her bags and moved them over to her car.

  Before she took Jonah home, the boy looked up at Tanner with a charming smile. “Don’t forget our fishing trip next Saturday.”

  “I won’t.” Tanner spoke low.

  Zoë opened her mouth to tell Tanner that she’d changed her mind about them going, but she couldn’t stand to hurt her son that way. It wasn’t Jonah’s fault that she was having an altercation with Tanner over their methods.

  Tanner took a deep inhale of resignation. “I’ll pick you up at nine.”

  “Do you know where we live?” she asked.

  “I do. It’s a small town.”

  Right. She got it. But she still didn’t know if they should go.

  “Thanks for taking us out today.” She said the words mechanically.

  “You’re welcome. I’ve got another trip planned for us midweek, to visit one of the logging operations. I’ll call your office on Monday to give you the exact time. I’ll pick you up at your office.”

  Yeah, that would be fun. She couldn’t wait.

  She nodded, her gaze glancing off his. “Fine, I’ll let my assistant know.”

  And without another word, they parted company on that sour note.

  Chapter Five

  Midweek came much too soon for Tanner’s peace of mind. With Zoë in the passenger seat, he drove a Forest Service truck this time as they headed up the mountain. For some crazy reason, Tanner missed the incessant chatter of her son. Against his better judgment, Tanner had come to like the boy. He tried to tell himself the kid was just another coworker’s little boy, but for some
reason Tanner felt different about Jonah.

  “How’s Jonah?” he couldn’t help asking Zoë.

  “Great. He can’t wait for our fishing trip on Saturday.”

  “Good.” Tanner figured if he had to go, the least he could do was make it fun for Jonah.

  Part of him wondered if he was setting himself up for more pain by letting himself care for Jonah.

  But really it wasn’t that big a deal. Taking the kid fishing didn’t mean they had to be best buddies forever. It wouldn’t hurt to be nice to a fatherless child.

  Or would it?

  As before, the road leading toward the mountains paralleled Bingham River. Willows, sedges and grass edged the riverbanks, the frothing stream splashing over smoothed boulders in its path. The water glimmered in the sunlight, like a million translucent crystals.

  “It’s so pretty up here,” Zoë said, awestruck. “I just can’t get over how beautiful this river is.”

  Tanner nodded in silent agreement, enjoying the moment. Glad to share it with someone who appreciated nature as much as he did. If only they didn’t conflict on their approach to work, everything would be fine.

  “Where are we going today?” she asked.

  “There’s a logging operation working up by Silver Peak. The Western Logging Company. I need to check on their work cleanup and thought you’d find it interesting.”

  She glanced at him, her delicate brows pulled down in a doubtful expression. Maybe he sounded a bit brusque, though he didn’t mean to. He felt too comfortable around this woman. He didn’t understand why he seemed to open up and say things to Zoë that he normally would have bit his tongue on. And the realization that he liked her made him tense up like a tightly wound top.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  No! I don’t want you or your little boy getting me to open up.

  “Sure, I’m fine.”

  She settled back in her seat, her movements causing her delicate fragrance to waft through the air. He turned his head away, but not before he’d breathed in deeply.

  He didn’t know what he thought anymore, and his insides knotted in frustration. But he knew she made him feel again, and that was dangerous.

  Their trip up the dirt road took an hour as they climbed in elevation. Tall lodgepole pine, spruce and fir flowed across the Bingham Mountains in a carpet of green.

  “This cutblock shows recent activity.” Zoë pointed to where trees had been freshly cut.

  The cutblock was an area where timber had been sold to the logging operation to be harvested and cut out. Then the Forest Service would come in later and replant.

  “Yes, this is where I want to check their cleanup. We’ve had a few infractions with this company before, but nothing serious.”

  Zoë scanned the area, her expression darkening. “Can you pull over, please?”

  He stopped the truck, wondering what she’d seen to upset her. Deciding to be patient, he followed her lead. If nothing else, he wanted to see how well she knew her business.

  Without waiting for him, she climbed out and headed toward the boundary of the cutblock. Then she wandered into the buffer zone around the public road and the stream where trees were not to be cut. Hopping over rocks and tree stumps in her path, she headed toward the creek that meandered down below. Tanner had to hustle to keep up with her brisk stride. He’d been foolish to ever think this woman was too feminine to get involved with the work here. The uneven ground didn’t hinder her booted feet in the least.

  Now and then, she paused beside piles of slash left behind by the timber operation: cut tree limbs, stumps and tops lying forgotten on the ground, their drying leaves and nettles turning brittle and brown.

  “This is what you call cleanup?” Resting a hand on her hip, Zoë stared at the debris and murmured the words as if to herself.

  “No, it isn’t, but they may have accidentally missed this slash,” Tanner said, though he was none too happy with the poor job the timber operation had done cleaning up this area.

  She pointed at more slash as she walked among the trees. “By next spring, every bit of this trash will have washed down into Tilting Creek and blocked the stream. And the silt from erosion will suffocate the redds. No fish will thrive here. This has got to be cleared out. Right now.”

  She didn’t raise her voice, but there was no mistaking her resolve. He agreed with her deductions.

  “You take your work very seriously.” Without thinking, he reached out and wiped a dark splotch of dirt off her chin. When he realized what he’d done, he jerked back.

  She kept walking, barely sparing him a glance.

  Though he admired her ferocity on behalf of the fish, he also feared that she might create unneeded animosity with the Western Logging Company. But how could he stop it?

  “They’ll clean it up, all right,” he assured her. “It’s in their contract. I’ll take care of it. A quick reminder, and they’ll get the slash out of here within a few days.”

  “I hope so.” She turned and headed toward the water, not yet finished with her tour.

  Following the skidding trail, she hurried past the empty area once populated by Douglas fir, larch and cedar. The sour scent of sawdust filled Tanner’s nose.

  When she reached the creek, Zoë stopped, her body as rigid as a brick wall. Tanner caught up with her and lifted his head. His jaw dropped open in surprise and a flush of anger caused his skin to burn. Great mounds of soil had been pushed into the creek to allow bulldozers to cross the stream. The skidding tracks of large machinery could still be seen in the mud, cutting across the pool of water blocked by the torn-up earth. Had the skidder accidentally caved in the bank as it had turned around? Or had this been done on purpose?

  Only a slim column of water was able to slide past. The vegetation and the stream would die if something wasn’t done to rectify this problem fast.

  Zoë looked at Tanner, her blue eyes as cold as chipped ice as she gestured toward the muddy pool. “They’ve dammed up this creek. No wonder the fish can’t get through to spawn.”

  Tanner raked a hand through his short hair, beyond frustrated. “Yeah, they sure have.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  Her question worried him, but he wanted to keep a cool head. “I’m gonna demand they fix it, and possibly levy a fine. Let’s go have a chat with them.”

  No way was he going to let the timber operation get away with this violation. If Zoë hadn’t stopped him and gotten out of the truck to take a closer look, he would have missed this...until the problem got much worse. At this point, they could repair the damage without lasting consequences. If he hadn’t discovered it now, the harm would have taken years to repair.

  She accompanied him back to the truck, moving just as fast as when they’d come downhill. He could barely keep up with her pace. Again, he couldn’t believe he ever thought her too feminine for her profession.

  “I’ll let you do most of the talking, okay?” she offered.

  “Thanks.” Tanner blew out a breath of relief. She was understandably upset, just like him. And yet, she deferred to him. She was learning fast.

  Back in the truck, they didn’t speak as they approached the landing area of the timber operation. Tanner’s body tensed with irritation as he thought about what he should say to the logging boss.

  The buzz of engines filled the air. Tanner parked the Forest Service truck over by the boss’s trailer office. As he got out and headed for the small structure with Zoë close beside him, the cacophony of heavy equipment and chain saws almost deafened him.

  Zoë stood outside while Tanner went inside the trailer to look for the foreman. No one there. He walked toward the deck area, conscious of the loud noise and potential danger moving around him. Zoë stayed right beside him all the way, her long
legs matching his stride for stride.

  Several double logging trucks with four eight-foot bunks in each bed sat off to one side, waiting to be filled with timber. Piles of felled tree trunks sat nearby. A crane moved rapidly overhead, its spindly hooks whisking two eighty-foot logs through the air before laying them neatly in the hayracks of the trucks.

  A crawler tractor the size of a small house moved with burdensome stealth across the deck, its steel treads cleating into the ground to give it the traction and power to push or pull heavy loads. A bulldozer the same size sat silent to one side, its front blade mottled with clumps of grass and damp earth. Rubber-tired skidders, equipped with heavy chains and chokers, pulled long trunks of trees over to the landing area.

  Suffocating dust filled the air, and both Tanner and Zoë put a hand over their noses to protect their lungs.

  “Where’s the wood boss?” Tanner yelled at a deckhand wearing an orange vest and hard hat.

  The young man turned and wiped a gloved hand across his blackened face. He didn’t bother speaking over the roar of noise but pointed toward the skidder, which had paused to idle while the operator shouted down at another man wearing a bright red hard hat and holding a clipboard.

  As they approached, the operator pointed at them, winning the attention of the wood boss. The man turned to see them, his gaze lowering briefly to the federal shield Tanner wore on the front of his uniform shirt. A brief blaze of panic flashed in the man’s eyes, then was gone. And that’s when Tanner knew the truth. Though the wood boss constantly made excuses, he’d intentionally allowed his crew to violate their contract. And because of Zoë, they’d caught him at it.

  * * *

  Zoë inhaled a shallow breath, trying not to breathe in any more dust than necessary. Tanner touched her arm, making her aware of a forklift coming up on her right side. It did no good to talk in this environment. No one could hear over the roar of machinery, but she saw the danger and moved away.

  The wood boss jutted his chin and pointed toward the trailer office. Tanner stepped back, letting Zoë go in front of him as they followed the man and stepped inside the cramped trailer. Tanner shut the door, immediately cutting off enough noise that Zoë could hear herself think.