“I’ll get my truck and drive you home,” he offered.
She glanced at his amputated leg again, as though assessing his abilities. He knew what she was thinking. They were out in the middle of nowhere. How could he get his truck and drive her home with only one leg?
He jabbed a thumb toward the vicinity of Sunrise Ranch, which was now shrouded behind an edge of mountains. “I don’t live far from here. You’d only have to wait a few minutes.”
His gaze skimmed past the white stripe along her blue runner’s shorts to her scratched knees. A streak of dirt marred the edge of her chin, and he longed to brush it away. To touch her and make sure she was real. He hated being perceived as weak, especially by a girl from his past.
Correction. Woman. She wasn’t a child anymore. And neither was he.
“Um, no. I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I can walk home.”
She applied slight pressure to her ankle, testing to see if it could bear her weight. As she took a few limping steps, her face immediately contorted with pain. He knew she couldn’t walk home. Not like this.
“It’s three miles into town. You’re gonna have to let me help you. Don’t worry, it’s what I do.” He forced a smile.
Her beautiful eyes locked with his, filled with doubt. “What do you do?”
“I help people. I always have.” But he hadn’t been able to help her twenty years ago. In so many words, he'd asked her to trust him. Again. And yet, he’d failed her once. He’d been too young to stop her from being taken away. To protect her from being hurt by people she didn’t even know. But now he was a grown man. Things were different. Being a protector was in his blood. It was what had driven him to become a U.S. Marine. What had driven him to save Cade Baldwin’s life in Afghanistan. And what drove him now to train horses and work with amputee kids.
Because they needed him. And it felt good to be needed.
“Okay, thank you.” And then she smiled. A stunning reminder of who she was. The expression lit up her entire face, curved her generous lips and crinkled the slim bridge of her nose. If he’d had any doubts before, he lost them now. This was Julie Granger.
His first love.
He took a deep breath, then thrust his hand out in greeting. “I’m Dallin Savatch. Most people call me Dal.”
He watched her face carefully, waiting for recognition to fill her eyes. Nothing. Not even a glimmer.
Instead, she dragged her gaze down to his fingers. As though hesitant to touch him. He waited for her shiver of disgust. He’d seen it before, time and time again, with other people who couldn’t get past his missing leg. But that shiver didn’t come. Not this time.
She clasped his fingers tight and shook his hand. “My name is Julie Granger. I’m sorry to inconvenience you like this, but I really appreciate it.”
So. She didn’t know him. And he couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. How could she forget him so easily? Was her memory lapse selective or real?
He decided to let it pass. To pretend he hadn’t been hurt when she’d stopped answering his letters and returning his phone calls. He’d tried to tell himself she’d been nothing more than a high school crush, but that never stuck. He’d loved her deeply, but she no longer felt the same.
“No problem.” He let go a bit too fast. Trying to put some distance between them. Trying not to feel angry by her presence. He wished she weren’t so lovely. A woman who obviously liked running as much as he did. If that were possible.
“Why don’t you sit over here while I hurry home and get my truck? Then I can drive you into town to Cade’s office.” He pointed at a soft grassy knoll at the side of the road beneath the spreading limbs of a tall cottonwood.
“Cade?” Her knees visibly wobbled as she took a step toward the inviting spot. He reached for her arm, and she didn’t refuse.
“Cade Baldwin. My partner. He’s the doctor in town.”
“A doctor won’t be necessary,” she said. “Are you a doctor, too?”
“No, no. Cade’s the doctor. We were in the Marine Corps together. Now we’re partners out at Sunrise Ranch. We pooled our resources and work together there. I mostly just handle the horses.”
He’d always been a horseman, even when they were kids and his widowed mom had worked as a cook on a ranch in Oklahoma.
He expected Julie’s doubtful stare directed toward his prosthesis, but she didn’t even flinch. Most amputees didn’t train horses, much less wild mustangs. But he did. And he was good at it, too. He refused to let his missing limb get in the way of his work. The horses didn’t judge him. They didn’t care if he only had one leg. And when he was with them, he could forget the disability he’d worked so hard to overcome.
The way Julie had forgotten him.
One of her brows arched upward in recognition. “Ah! You’re from the horse camp for amputee kids I’ve been hearing about. I believe the previous forest ranger married the owner.”
He nodded, surprised that she knew so much about them. “That’s right. In fact, the horse camp was the ranger’s idea. Cade’s in charge of physical therapy and special programs for the kids. His wife, Lyn, pays the bills, coordinates the meals, takes care of her two children and everything else. Of course, we have other staff who work at the place, too.”
“It sounds amazing,” she agreed. “I’ve heard a lot about Lyn Baldwin since I got into town. I’m not surprised she retired as the forest ranger once she had her second child. No doubt she has plenty to keep her busy out at your ranch.”
“She is amazing, but why have you heard about her?”
“I’m the new forest ranger.”
Dawning flooded Dal’s dazed brain. Lyn had told him a new ranger was coming in last week, but he’d expected a man, not Julie. Not a girl he’d never forgotten in all these long, painful years.
“I just moved here last week,” she continued. “I’m hoping to visit Lyn soon, to see if she can bring me up to speed on several issues I’ll be dealing with.”
He nodded and released her hand as she sat down. Currents of energy zigzagged up his arm, reaching clear to his shoulder blade. He rubbed his biceps, hoping the feeling would ease soon.
It didn’t.
“I’m sure Lyn would be glad to help you out,” he said. “Just give her a call. Now, you wait right here and I’ll go get my truck.”
Without another word, he whirled around and dashed away, moving swiftly over the dirt road. Eager to get away from Julie’s observant gaze.
He ran with no limp whatsoever. An amazing task, considering the rocky surface he’d chosen to jog on. But he’d gotten used to it, navigating the uneven fields and even hiking in the mountains like a man with two normal legs. He had a prosthesis for almost every activity, and that made his way of life possible.
And in that moment, Dal wished things could be different somehow. He’d paid a high price to save Cade’s life in Afghanistan, and he’d gladly pay it again. He just wished he could have kept both his legs in the process. But Dal had long ago reconciled himself to the fact that life would never be the same. Not for him and Julie. Not ever again.
* * *
Julie stared at the tall man’s broad shoulders as he hopped across the stream and returned to the main road. Her breath stuttered as she watched him move as gracefully as a man with two solid legs. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she never would have believed Dal Savatch was an amputee.
She never should have decided to jog in the grassy fields, but she’d wanted to see what kinds of vegetation grew along the creek bed. To see what kinds of fish swam in the stream. And to assess if the area was being overgrazed. As the new forest ranger, it was her job.
She’d been concentrating on her task when she’d looked up at the road paralleling the creek and seen the most handsome man running toward her. Through the thick bran
ches of willows, she’d caught glimpses of his rugged face. The blunt shape of his jaw. The determined lines carved around his mouth. The muscular torso and strong arms moving with his fast stride.
Dal Savatch. The love of her life. Or, at least, that was what she’d thought when she was fifteen. Before her parents had been killed in a horrible car crash. Before she’d been yanked out of her home and slapped into foster care.
When the vegetation had given way, she’d seen Dal’s legs. The curving prosthesis he wore where his left leg should have been. An amputee, running smooth and fast along a dirt road that even challenged Julie’s experienced stride.
Before she could catch herself, she’d stepped in a hole and gone down. Road rash never hurt as much as it did when someone else witnessed your fall. Her shocked attention had been on the man, not the rough terrain in front of her. Now she felt like a fool. She had twisted her ankle hard and she blinked to clear the sudden tears of pain, highly aware of the man who’d crossed the stream and come to her rescue.
Oh, Dal. What he must have suffered in losing his leg. It hurt her to see him like this. To think of the pain he must have gone through. She wasn’t surprised he’d overcome such adversity. Dal never was a quitter. Never gave up on anything he wanted.
Never stopped writing or calling her, until she’d moved so often his letters could no longer find her.
Julie groaned, conscious of the rings of sweat on her jogging shirt. Reaching up, she patted her damp hair and regretted not putting on any makeup that morning. Dal had just gotten a good look at her, but he didn’t recognize her. Didn’t remember the sweet kiss they’d shared on the front porch of her childhood home the very night her parents had died.
Oh, well. Maybe it was for the best. At the age of thirty-five, Julie had long ago given up on marriage and family. She was what her last foster mom had called an old maid. But she couldn’t help that she loved her career and liked being alone.
Most of the time.
Having lost her parents, she’d decided not to regret what she’d never really known. And yet, there were times when she’d seen other women in the grocery store, pushing their kids around in shopping carts. Hugging their husbands. Their laughter ringing through the air. And then a pang of regret would rip through Julie’s heart, reminding her of what she’d never have for her very own.
A family. Someone who loved and needed her. Someone who cared if she lived or died.
She settled her back against the strong tree trunk and waited for Dal. The throbbing in her ankle had eased by the time the sound of an engine filled the air. She wrenched her head around. An old blue pickup truck rumbled down the dirt road, heading toward her. Dal sat in the driver’s seat wearing a battered cowboy hat. He looked her way, a worried frown tugging at his handsome mouth and brows.
Worried for her?
He pulled the truck over and stepped out. A graceful movement that left her impressed by his mastery of the prosthesis. An embarrassing reminder that she was the one needing his assistance, not the other way around.
He rushed over to help her stand. Glancing up, her gaze locked with his. His features hadn’t changed much since they were kids, but he’d grown taller and filled out in the shoulders, chest and arms.
As she stared into his hazel eyes, several pounding moments followed when he let down his guard. And in those few seconds, she read a lot in those brown-green depths. She saw the hurt he kept locked inside. The solemn sadness. The uncertainty. But no recognition. Then his eyes clouded over. A guarded look that told her he’d do the right thing no matter what, but he was scared.
Of her.
A foolish notion, surely. She was imagining things.
As he helped her hobble over to the passenger side of his truck, she tried not to lean against his solid warmth. Tried not to add any extra burden to his missing leg.
“I’m strong. You can lean on me.” He spoke low, his gentle tone encouraging her to trust him.
She almost breathed a huge sigh of relief. For so long, she’d depended on no one but herself. She’d wanted to stay close to Dal, but with her orphaned status, her life had spiraled out of her control. Their separation was for the best.
She should act normal around this anything-but-normal man. After all, she didn’t know him anymore. They were basically strangers. But in her mind, she couldn’t help thinking that she’d never met another man like him, with or without legs.
Pulling the door open, he helped her inside and waited patiently while she snapped on her seat belt. Her skin still tingled where he’d touched her arms.
His gaze lowered to her ankle and his expression softened. “It doesn’t look too swollen.”
“No, it’ll be fine.” And she knew the words were true. If Dal could recover from losing a leg, then she could surely survive a wrenched ankle.
He closed the door and went around to the driver’s side. The cab of the truck smelled of peppermint. An old vehicle with a leather bench seat. A classic truck that must be at least fifty years old. She couldn’t help wondering about his life and the man he’d become. Did he still like pistachio ice cream? Was he still a whiz at calculus? Was he married with kids of his own?
She longed to ask, but didn’t dare. Guilt nibbled at her conscience for the anguish she must have caused when she’d stopped writing to him. It was better to forget.
She watched with detached interest as he got in and started the engine. He shifted the gears and drove slow and steady over the dirt road leading into town.
“Nice truck,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“What year?”
“Nineteen-sixty. I rebuilt the engine myself. It’s therapeutic.”
“I really appreciate your help,” she said, feeling out of place. Feeling as if she should remind him of who she was. But what good would that do? Chatting about a past she’d rather forget wouldn’t be much fun. Above all else, she didn’t want his pity. She just wanted to forget what she’d been through.
“How long have you been running?” he asked, staring straight ahead as he used his right foot to press the gas and brake pedals, as needed.
“Since I was fifteen, when my parents died and I went into foster care.” She hadn’t meant to give him such a big reminder. The words had just slipped out before she could call them back. But this disconcerting man had caught her off guard. She couldn’t help wondering if the clues would remind him of who she was. She didn’t want to talk about her life, a habit she’d acquired over the years to protect herself from being hurt again. With good reason.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.
“How about you? When did you start running?”
“I guess I’ve always been a runner,” he said. “First in high school when I played football and ran track, then as a marine. When I returned from the war, I ran to rehabilitate myself. To keep myself independent and out of a wheelchair.” He clamped his mouth shut, as though he also regretted confiding so much.
Obviously she wasn’t the only one with a painful past.
“I can understand your desire for independence,” she said. “I heard about a 5K race they’re holding here in the valley the latter part of August and thought I’d participate, as long as my ankle doesn’t stop me. A race motivates me to get up early and run every morning. It also keeps me in shape in case I’m called out on a wildfire this summer.”
He glanced her way, his brown-green eyes skimming over her bare calves and running shoes. “Yeah, I’ve already entered that race myself.”
“Is that right? I can’t say I’m surprised.” Tilting her head, she chuckled. They still had things in common, but the reasons why they both ran intrigued her more than the running itself. Because, truth be told, Julie ran for the isolation of it. The solitude and healing. She’d been by herself so long that she didn’t know anything else.
And she’d never met a person she thought might fully understand her deeply buried motives.
Until now.
“Who are you running for?” she asked.
Or from? That was what she really wanted to know.
He tilted his head in question. “What do you mean?”
“Who’s your sponsor?”
“Ah! Sunrise Ranch, of course. The amputee kids.”
“Of course.”
“And who’s your sponsor?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t have one yet. I could use the Forest Service, but that might be viewed as a conflict of interest.”
“Why?”
“Some people might not like the idea of a government agency sponsoring the new forest ranger. Some folks get touchy about things like that.”
“Well, they shouldn’t.”
“I agree.”
Within minutes, he pulled into the driveway of her white Forest Service house, located two blocks north of Main Street. From what her new range assistant had told her, Lyn Baldwin had lived here with her amputee daughter until she’d married Cade Baldwin and moved out to Sunrise Ranch.
Julie hadn’t needed to give Dal directions to her house. Not surprising in such a small town. Throughout her career, she’d been transferred quite a bit and had worked hard for this promotion as a forest ranger. Now she hoped to put down roots. She might never be a wife and mother, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t become involved in her community.
A town that included Dal Savatch.
As he helped her amble up the path to her front porch, she noticed that the pain in her ankle was almost gone. Thank goodness. She had a full day of work ahead of her. With starting a brand-new job, she didn’t need a throbbing ankle to keep her from perusing all the timber and watershed reports sitting on her desk.
Dal took her key from her hand and inserted it in the lock. He opened the door, pushing it wide. He didn’t come inside, but hesitated until she turned to face him. And then she realized that several minutes had passed in which she’d forgotten he was an amputee. She’d been so engrossed in her own discomfort that she hadn’t noticed how he’d helped her up the front steps. Somehow, this man made her forget he was handicapped.
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