To make sure he was alone, Dal tossed an angry glare over his shoulder. Cade stood with Max beside the watering trough, both man and dog watching Dal with a look of grave concern. Thankfully, Cade had the common sense to stay put this time.
Dal kicked at a clump of grass. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Cade’s efforts. In fact, just the opposite. But, in the end, it didn’t make any difference. Dal would love nothing more than to date Julie, fall deeply in love and marry her. But life hadn’t been kind to either of them. They both carried a cruel past they were each trying to stash in the attic and forget.
Dal loved Julie. He always had. And because he loved her, he never wanted to hurt her again. Which meant no dates. Not ever. Not for him.
And that was that.
Chapter Five
Dal didn’t show up to go running with her the next morning. Julie knew she hadn’t accidentally missed him because she peeked past the curtains in her living room just before dawn. For almost two weeks now, he’d stood leaning against the tall cottonwood on the other side of her fence just as the sun came up, waiting for her to join him. She’d dubbed it “his tree.” But he wasn’t there today. She delayed her jog an additional ten minutes, but still he didn’t show. She’d come to enjoy the quiet camaraderie they’d shared. And though she’d never admit it out loud, she couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed and confused.
Two hours later, she stood in the Forest Service corral loading Dottie, her appaloosa mare, into the horse trailer. Maybe Dal hadn’t gone running with her today because she’d be seeing him later that morning. They’d spend most of the day together, surveying Gilway Trail. She feared that his absence went deeper than that. Yesterday, when they’d eaten cookies at Sunrise Ranch, she’d sensed his reticence. His reluctance to be near her. In the beginning, he had been the pursuer and she had been the one who wanted him to stay away. Now it seemed to be just the opposite. She wanted to be near him all the time.
A mere twenty minutes later, she pulled into the driveway at Sunrise Ranch. Without announcing her presence, she lowered the back tailgate and unloaded Dottie. She’d just tossed a blanket over the mare’s back when Dal came out of the stable riding a buckskin gelding. The man wore a scruffy cowboy hat, tight blue jeans and scuffed boots. Handsome and tall in the saddle. Even from this distance, she felt his intense gaze, and her senses kicked into overdrive.
“Morning.” He greeted her with a curt tug on the brim of his hat.
“Good morning,” she replied. “I missed you for our run today.”
Now why did she say that? She should have let it go. He didn’t owe her any explanation. So why did his absence this morning bother her so much?
He pulled up and leaned one forearm against the saddle horn. “Sorry, I should have called you. It’s been rather hectic this week. We’ve got our first group of kids this season coming in next Monday and a lot to do yet.”
She didn’t understand why that had kept him from running with her at five-thirty this morning. She tried to read between the lines, but found no answers. Something had changed between them, and she sensed that it had to do with her visit to the ranch yesterday afternoon. “So soon? I thought you had a couple more weeks before the start of camp.”
He stepped off his horse, showing no indication that he was hampered by his prosthesis. “Nope, it’s next week, and we’re still a bit short on kitchen staff. I’ve been trying to find someone to help serve meals in the evenings, but not many people in town are willing to work after five o’clock. Most have families of their own they need to tend to.”
“What about high school students looking for summer employment?”
“If they were hardworking and patient with our kids, we’d hire them on the spot. But only one student applied, and we hired her. We need a couple more.”
“Have you advertised in the local newspaper?”
“Yeah, and I also put up fliers in the grocery store, gas station and post office. No bites yet. But we’ll make do.”
She envisioned cute amputee kids like Kristen swarming the ranch next week and thought it might be fun to see.
His gaze flicked past her spruce-green pants and the bronze shield pinned to the left front pocket of her Forest Service shirt. “I can’t get used to you in that uniform.”
She brushed her hand down one sleeve of her crisply ironed shirt and smiled. “I know. This drab olive isn’t my best color.”
“No, it’s not that. I keep remembering you in your cheerleading uniform.”
“White and royal blue, with big, puffy pom-poms,” she said.
“Yeah, you were so fun and easygoing in those days. Now you seem so...so official.”
Was she so different now? She supposed life had changed them both in too many ways to count. “I’m here in an official capacity, but I’m still a nice person, Dal.”
His gaze locked with hers, but still he didn’t smile. “I have no doubt about that.”
At that moment, Cade and Kristen walked out onto the front porch of the house and waved.
“Good morning!” Cade called.
“Morning,” Julie returned with a smile.
“Hi, Julie.” Holding a brown paper lunch sack in one hand, Kristen looped her backpack over her shoulder and gripped the handrail. A subtle indicator that she was in a hurry and didn’t want to stumble on the stairs with her prosthetic leg.
Funny how Julie now noticed such things in the short time she’d spent with Dal.
“Sorry we can’t talk now. We’re running late.” Cade’s keys jingled in his hand as they rushed down the steps and headed toward his truck parked nearby.
“I understand. Have a nice day,” Julie called.
“We will, and you two have fun,” Cade said.
Dal thrust a thumb in Cade’s direction. “He’s late for the clinic and has to drop Kristen off for her last day of school before summer break.”
“Ah.” Julie wondered how this busy family kept up with all they had going on. “You sure you have time to view Gilway Trail today? We can postpone.”
Julie paused as she reached inside the horse trailer for her saddle, waiting for Dal’s response. No sense in saddling her horse if they rescheduled their trip.
Letting the reins on his gelding trail on the ground, Dal brushed past Julie and lifted the saddle before placing it onto her horse. “I’ll make the time today. This project is important for next year’s camp.”
With swift movements, he cinched up her saddle, then dangled the reins over her forearm.
“Thank you.” She gripped the reins with white knuckles, wondering about his abrupt manners. On the one hand, he was being polite and gentlemanly. Considerate of her needs. On the other hand, his brusque gestures told her he was irritated about something. She figured she was the cause, though she wasn’t sure why.
At least not yet.
“You’re welcome.” He didn’t smile as he returned to his horse.
Julie stared at his wide back. The tension in his shoulders and his clipped words spoke volumes. Something was bothering him. Something big.
In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help wishing he’d flash that dazzling smile at her one more time. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him that he’d approached her about developing Gilway Trail, not the other way around. But then she decided to remain professional. Shut up, do her job and go home. She didn’t want to be friends with this man again. She didn’t care about his troubles.
Or did she?
They stepped up into their saddles and headed out, loping their horses across a meadow of new grass and blue lupines. Julie took a deep inhale. Being outdoors always brought her a measure of peace. She loved nature and the thrill of working in the mountains. For a time, she could almost forget the sadness that still haunted her after twenty years. She could a
lmost believe that God still loved her.
Almost.
Within twenty minutes, they reached the trailhead. Julie pulled her horse up and rested her left hand against the cantle of her saddle. Dal sat silently nearby, letting her look at the layout as he awaited her judgment.
“Right off the bat, I can see that the opening to this trail isn’t in compliance with accessibility requirements,” she said.
“What do you mean?” He pushed his hat back on his head. His horse swished its tail at a fly and stomped a hoof.
“I doubt that trail opening is at least thirty-two inches wide, that is, wide enough to accommodate a wheelchair.” She indicated the two gray boulders that stood like sentinels, framing the entrance to the thin path beyond. “It wouldn’t take much to move these rocks and widen the opening with some heavy machinery.”
He quirked a brow. “The trail is awful steep to make it fit for a wheelchair.”
“We won’t be modifying the trail for a wheelchair, just the opening.” Reaching for a small notebook and pen she kept in her shirt pocket, she jotted a few notes.
Dal leaned forward, his brows pulled together. She felt uncomfortable with him watching her so closely.
“How do you plan to get your kids mounted on their horses?” she asked.
He narrowed his eyes in thought. “Back at the ranch, we just use step stools. One of the staff members is always right there to help out each child. Almost one-on-one attention, to ensure the kids’ safety.”
“A step stool will be a bit impractical way out here,” she said. “We could easily install a livestock ramp, so your kids can lead their horses up to the side and then climb on more easily. A small bulldozer could fit in here to build a dirt ramp right there. Along the trail, you’ll still need a stool, in case one of the kids needs to get off their horse for some reason.”
“A ramp would definitely cut down on the number of stools we need to bring with us. I like your idea,” Dal said.
“Handrails are probably impractical in this environment, but we can install some on the ramp. Once the kids get on their horses, they should be okay.” She stepped off her mare and tied the reins to a nearby tree branch.
Dal did likewise, his head tilted as he listened to catch her every word. Julie felt jittery with him following so close, but decided to focus on her work. She was in her element and knew what she was doing. A handsome man from her past shouldn’t make any difference.
But he did. She couldn’t deny it.
“Right here, I suggest we install several hitching rails for your horses. You’ll need one over by the ramp, too.” She gestured as she spoke. When she turned around suddenly, she ran smack into his wide chest.
“Whoa! Excuse me.” He lifted his hands to clasp her shoulders.
Julie stumbled, but his strong grip kept her from falling. His face flushed scarlet as he settled her, then backed away.
“Sorry, Julie.”
“No, thank you. It seems you’re always saving me.” She gave a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the moment. Trying to ignore the buzzing in her head and the sizzling energy that pricked her skin where he’d touched her arms.
He glanced at her boots, then stared blankly at the ground. The coward.
She took a deep inhale and caught his scent of spice and leather. How could a man smell so nice?
She slammed the door on that thought. He was just a man after all. A very kind, attractive man.
“Um, there’s plenty of room for you to bring in a truck with supplies, if you decide to do that. But you’ll have to use pack horses from here on.” She continued with her dialogue, trying to pretend she hadn’t almost run him over. “You can’t use any motorized vehicles along the trail.”
She made more notes, noticing that Dal now kept his distance, his warm gaze following her every movement.
“We’ll put a sign kiosk right here, out of the way.” She pointed at a shady spot beneath the spread of cottonwoods. “It’ll include the name and length of the trail, the grade and slope of the path, and some rules associated with use of the campsite. A map might be a good idea, too.” She pointed at a rock wall at the base of the mountain. “We’ll want to avoid changing this natural cliff formation. It’s attractive, and we don’t want to alter anything we don’t have to.”
“If you say so.” He nodded and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, a look of hesitation in his eyes.
Shy and reserved. Not at all like the outgoing, playful boy she’d known in high school.
Reaching into her saddlebag, she pulled out a camera and started snapping pictures.
“What are those for?” Dal asked.
She tilted the lens to get the right angle on a particular incline. “So I can remember the exact setup of the terrain once I get back to my office. The pictures will also help once we hold our public meeting. I want to be prepared for anything.”
“I dread that meeting,” Dal said. “Some of the ranchers in the area are dead set against any development of this trail. They seem to think our kids might invade their privacy somehow.”
She snorted. “I don’t see how that’s possible. You’re the only rancher in this vicinity. The next ranch is two mountains over.”
“Still, they may fight the development.”
She nodded. “And I’ll listen to their objections. But that doesn’t mean we won’t proceed with the work. This is a good cause. I’ll be impartial and reserve my final call until I’ve seen the entire layout. But so far, I see no reason not to alter this trail.”
Not if she could help it. As a teenager, she’d needed someone to make a difference for her. That someone had been Berta Alvey, an elderly widow who had taken her in after she’d lost all trust in men. For two years, Berta had worked with her, helping her see that not everyone was willing to take advantage of a young orphan. Now Julie believed the work she was doing for the amputee camp was important. She wouldn’t go against any Forest Service regulations, but she was also determined to help Sunrise Ranch in any way she could. For the benefit of the kids.
As she snapped several more pictures, she tried to tell herself her goal had nothing to do with Dal. That she didn’t care about pleasing him, too. But she knew that wasn’t true.
Dal took a deep inhale and looked up at the cottonwoods swaying in the breeze. “Wow, it’s pretty up here.”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed.
“Whenever I view the beauty of the earth, it deepens my belief in God.”
She didn’t respond, and he glanced at her.
“Don’t you feel the same?” he asked.
“I definitely love the outdoors. That’s why I chose my profession.” That and so she could be by herself. Sexual abuse had a way of making a person antisocial.
“I don’t see how anyone can look at God’s creations and not believe in Him,” Dal said.
She shrugged. “Maybe God has let them down.”
Dal spun around and gazed at her with surprise. “Surely you don’t mean that.”
She made a pretense of jotting more notes. “Berta believed in God.”
He lifted one brow. “Berta?”
“My last foster mom before I graduated from high school. She took me to church every Sunday. She insisted that I stay out of trouble and go to college. Even after I was an adult, she would still hunt me down to make sure I was living right.” She chuckled at the memories.
“She sounds like a great lady.”
Julie nodded. “She was.”
“Was?”
“She died a year after I graduated from college, but I was so glad she got to see that day. I owe her everything. If there is a God, then He sent Berta to me.” Her throat suddenly felt dry as sandpaper.
“Then you don’t believe in God?” An edge of disbelief tinged his voice.
“You used to love God. Before your folks died, you went to church with them every week.”
And sat in the back pew with Dal’s arm looped around her shoulders. She’d been so content in those days. So calm and happy. Then tragedy had struck.
“Yeah, well, that was before Mom and Daddy died.” And that was all she was going to say about that.
“I know you’ve had some hard knocks in your life,” Dal said. “So have I. But God’s been there with me every step of the way. Without Him, I don’t think I would have survived the war. After I returned to the States, I wanted to die. God sent a special friend to me, just as He sent Berta to you.”
Listening to Dal speak, Julie could almost believe what he said was true. That God had been with her through her darkest days. “Cade was your special friend?”
“Yes, but he needed help, too. As a prisoner of war, he survived some pretty cruel torture. But after I lost my leg, he wouldn’t let me quit, even when I begged him to let me die.”
She gave a sad little smile, realizing how much they both had in common. “Yes, that sounds like Berta. She never gave up on me, even when I screamed at her and made her life so difficult.”
Julie wanted to believe the Lord cared for her. That she wasn’t alone in this big old world. But if that were true, why had God taken her parents from her? Surely God didn’t need them more than she did. But then, God had sent her Berta. And Janice Baker, her old boss with the Forest Service. Janice had put Julie on a wildfire crew as a summer job. Later, the woman had mentored Julie as she’d made her way through college and built her career in the Forest Service. Janice and Berta had made a great difference in Julie’s life.
Maybe it was now Julie’s turn to give something back. To make a difference for a child in need.
“You said you’re shorthanded in the kitchen for your evening meal shift,” she said.
He nodded, looking quizzical. “That’s right.”
Love Inspired February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Cowboy's Reunited FamilyThe Forest Ranger's ReturnMommy Wanted Page 26