“I’d like to volunteer to help out a couple of nights each week, if that’s all right.”
Oh, now she’d done it. She waited for a sick feeling to settle inside her stomach, a warning that she’d pushed herself beyond her comfort zone and would live to regret it. But that feeling didn’t come. Not this time. She didn’t want to retract her offer. In fact, she felt almost driven to help out at the amputee camp. Almost as though her future happiness depended on it.
* * *
Dal stared at Julie for several moments, considering her offer. After his conversation with Cade yesterday afternoon, he’d been ready to call and cancel this excursion up Gilway Trail with Julie. To forget the whole plan. But something had kept him from doing that. Something he couldn’t explain. As if he just physically could not pick up the phone, dial her number and say the words.
Working on the horse trail was one thing, but letting Julie help out in the kitchen back at the ranch was another matter entirely. She’d be constantly underfoot, spending a lot more time working with him. He hadn’t gone jogging with her that morning for a good reason. He needed to put some distance between himself and this woman. If she started working at the ranch, he’d be with her even more. And right now, Dal didn’t know if he could take that. In fact, he was certain he couldn’t.
“Not everyone likes working with amputee kids. They have special needs. It’s a lot of hard work,” he said.
“I understand, and I think I’d like it.”
Great. Now what?
He blew out a breath. “How about if we try it for one week. If it’s not working out after that time, no hard feelings. Agreed?”
There. He’d given both of them an out. A week would give him some extra time to find a replacement. Then he could thank Julie graciously and call it a day. She’d return to the Forest Service office in town, and he’d remain secluded back at the ranch. No more jogging together. No more quiet talks and gazing at her lovely profile. No more warmth and fuzziness between them.
No more danger to his heart.
“Agreed.” She flashed him a smile so bright it made his throat ache.
She whirled around and stepped toward the trailhead. “Now, back to work. This trail will be a Class Two, single-tread trail.”
She jotted more notes, and he wondered how she could act as though nothing had just happened. The thought of seeing her next Monday night flooded his entire being with nervous energy.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“It’s a minimally developed trail for pack and saddle. Used primarily for hiking and horses. That means we’ll need a greater clearing width for switchbacks and turns, so your horses can pass and turn more easily.”
Good. That was just what he had in mind.
She looked up the mountain and clicked another picture. “I can see from this slope that jogging and bicycling would be practically impossible, but some people ride their mountain bikes anywhere.”
Dal didn’t care about mountain bikes, as long as they didn’t interfere with his kids on their horses.
“Let’s ride up the mountain. I want to see the area you’d like to develop for the campsite.” Julie headed for their horses, a new lightness in her step.
Had agreeing to let her help out at the camp made her this happy? If so, he couldn’t bring himself to put a damper on her generosity.
They stepped up on their horses, and Julie led the way toward the trail. The path was rather steep, and the horses grunted as they climbed higher. When they reached a wider area along the trail, Julie pulled up and peered out over the tops of ponderosa pine and Douglas fir. The mountainside looked like a carpet of green, sloping down to the valley below.
“It is so beautiful here,” she said.
He was gazing at her. “It sure is.”
She glanced at him, and he looked away before she could see the hunger in his eyes. The longing to tell her how he really felt about her. In all these long, lonely years, he’d never stopped believing that they had unfinished business between them. But now it was too late.
She pointed uphill. “We’re gonna want to avoid steep grades where possible. Nothing over eight percent, except on the switchbacks.”
“Okay.” He barely heard her words. His ears felt clogged, as if he was submerged under water.
When she nudged her horse forward, he followed. As they rode, he tried to focus on her observations. Tried to shove his deep feelings into a remote corner of his heart and abandon them there.
She pointed at a barren switchback, rocky soil void of any vegetation. “This will be an erosion problem. A few rock and log barriers along the edges will prevent people from shortcutting across the path and keep the trail in good condition.”
He coughed to clear his voice. “You think we can get a bulldozer up this far to widen the trail?”
She shook her head. “No, we’ll use hand tools to widen the path. Adding more switchbacks will do a lot to make the trail more comfortable.”
Hand tools would require a lot of backbreaking labor, but he trusted her judgment.
Higher up, the trail widened out and Julie pulled up again. “This might be an excellent place to install a bench and hitching rail. There’s plenty of room for your kids to stop to rest and enjoy the view. We might even be able to build a step for them to use for remounting.”
Now why hadn’t he thought of that? Her insight impressed him. “That’d be great. We sometimes have kids who tire quickly. Knowing there’s a bench midway up the trail will give me a way to entice them to hang on a bit longer.”
When they reached the open area for the campsite, they both dismounted. Dal’s horse danced away, and he stumbled. His left hand wrenched free of the saddle horn, and he fell backward on the uneven ground. As he hit the dirt, his breath was knocked from him in a giant whoosh. He gasped to fill his lungs with air.
“Dal! Are you okay?” Julie rushed to his side.
He sat up in stunned embarrassment. Julie was watching. He felt so clumsy. So foolish. “I— I’m fine. Really.”
“Let me help you.” She gripped his arm, but he shook her off.
His pride crumbled, and he locked his jaw. “I can do it by myself.”
His harsh words startled her and she stepped back, her mouth dropping open in surprise.
“I’m okay, Julie.” He tried to soften his rebuff, but hated the guarded look on her face.
He rolled over onto his good knee and reached for the stirrup to pull himself up, but the horse jigged away. Down on all fours, Dal’s face flushed with heat. Embarrassment covered him from head to toe. He refused to look at Julie, wishing with every fiber of his being that she wasn’t standing there witnessing him like this.
He tried to get traction on the uneven ground, but his good foot kept slipping in the loose soil. He’d be forced to crawl over to a tree in order to stand.
With Julie watching.
Out of his peripheral vision, he saw her reaching for the reins before she pulled his horse near. The stirrup dangled in front of his face and he latched on to it, pulling himself up. As he got back on his feet, he reached down to adjust his prosthesis. Luckily the socket hadn’t come loose from his stump. The last thing he wanted was to ask Julie for privacy so he could pull his pants down and readjust the C-Leg. Right now, he felt exposed and vulnerable enough.
Unmanned.
“I just want to help, Dal,” she said.
He didn’t look at her. “I know. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“It’s okay. Sometimes it’s hard to accept someone else’s help, even when we need it. I also have a lot of trouble admitting I’m not invincible and in control every minute of every day. When I fall down, I hope you’ll help me up, too.”
He didn’t smile.
“Do you always have trouble acce
pting help from others?” she asked.
“No, just you.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Why is that?”
Back on his feet, he gave her a slow grin. “You really need to ask?”
“Point taken. But I hope you’ll get rid of such silly inhibitions. We used to be best friends, once.”
Yes, he was hyperaware of that fact, but decided to ignore the situation. Confessing that he needed this beautiful woman’s help tweaked his pride. Because he loved her. Because he wanted to show her that he was a man. Strong and virile and in control. And he wasn’t. Not really.
To change the topic, he pointed at the clearing surrounded by a stand of aspen. “We’d like to install six cabins up here with a large fire pit in the center for gatherings and roasting marshmallows. Is that possible?”
She blinked, as though it took her a few moments to mentally change the subject. Morning sunlight glinted off her long chestnut hair.
“We can build a fire pit, but no cabins. That’s too permanent. We can construct tent pads, though. Each pad will be approximately ten feet by twelve feet. This campsite will follow a pack in, pack out policy. Anything you bring in, you must also take out. Nothing left behind.” She locked her gaze with his as she spoke.
Dal realized she meant what she said. The professional forest ranger was back, ready to follow regulations. “Yes, ma’am. Can we at least have a couple of outhouses?”
Again, she shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Pit toilets only.”
“Pit toilets?”
“Yep. We don’t want to alter the nature of the outdoor experience any more than necessary. Each pit toilet will have a riser between seventeen and nineteen inches off the ground and a toilet seat, but that’s it. You can construct tent walls around each toilet, to offer privacy. But the walls have to be removed each time you leave the campsite.”
He gave a shrill whistle. “Wow. I hadn’t planned on that. You really want us to rough it, huh?”
“Call it camp setup. When you first arrive, get your kids to help with the work. Give them assignments and attach groups of them to a leader. Setting up should be part of the camping process. You want an outdoor experience for them, and I don’t want to damage this natural setting. Win-win for both sides.”
He chuckled. “Win-win? I’m not so sure I agree with that.”
Her expression softened. “It’ll be great for the self-esteem of your kids. Not a lot of coddling will make them earn their experience out here in the mountains. And when they get home, they’ll talk about it for years to come. Use the buddy system. Have the kids help each other. They’ll build relationships to last a lifetime.”
Her understanding of what he and Cade wanted to accomplish for the kids surpassed even Dal’s expectations. Here he was, wishing he could have a comfy cabin and outhouse to use, and she was giving him ideas on how to get the kids to work together. To grow and learn. To become stronger individuals, in spite of their amputations. When Dal considered her suggestions, he couldn’t help feeling impressed by her acumen.
“You’ve become an amazing woman, Julie Granger.” The words poured out of his mouth before he could call them back.
“Back at you. You’re the most remarkable man I’ve ever met.”
A knot of apprehension settled in Dal’s throat, and he coughed several times to clear it. It wouldn’t budge.
As they rode back toward the ranch, he realized that one of the last things he wanted in this world was to be considered remarkable by Julie Granger.
Chapter Six
Julie stood looking at the panoramic view below. Mountains blanketed by limber pine and aspens spread out before them, their leaves shivering in the warm breeze. Lake McClellan lay nestled in the valley below. Sunlight shimmered off the pristine waters like a trillion diamonds. Julie felt as though she could almost reach out and scoop up a handful.
A lovely scene that normally brought her peace. But not today. Not right now. Her guilt haunted her with memories. Reading Dal’s letters. Listening to his pleading voice mails before deleting them with no response. She owed him an explanation, yet couldn’t offer one. It was too embarrassing. Too humiliating to even think about.
The crack of a stick behind her reminded her that she wasn’t alone. Her breath stuttered to a halt. He stood behind her. Waiting. The only man she’d ever loved.
He touched her sleeve. “Are you okay?”
His deep voice thrummed through her, making her long to turn and curl into his arms. To offer her cares over to his capable hands. To let him be her confident captain.
“Yes, I’m fine. I was just admiring the beautiful view.” She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold in spite of the warm, sunny day.
“Then why don’t you join me for a bit of lunch?”
She didn’t move. Just stood there, the breeze blowing a wisp of hair across her face.
He bumped his shoulder against hers. “Come on, sit down and talk with me. You can tell me anything you want. I’ll keep your deepest, darkest secrets forever. I’m a steel trap.” He deepened his voice to a teasing purr, but she caught his serious undertone.
She tilted her head and watched as he sat on a fallen tree trunk. He patted the seat beside him and waggled his eyebrows. “It’s waiting just for you. I offer nothing but the best out here in the wilds. No table and chairs, but at least the view is stupendous.”
A laugh slipped from her throat. She longed to confide in him. To trust him. From what she’d observed, they both needed a confidant. Someone to unburden their hearts on. But they wouldn’t. At least not today.
She joined him on the log where he presented her with a single blue lupine. As she took the stem of the delicate flower, her fingers brushed against his. Warm tingles washed up her arm.
“Thank you.” She breathed the words.
“You’re welcome.” He met her eyes.
Julie stared at him for several moments, mesmerized. Longing to reach out and cup his cheek with her hand. Instead, she looked at his chin, where she could see the slight shadow of his beard. He hadn’t had much facial hair when they’d been teenagers. The sharp slant of his cheekbones and accompanying stubble fascinated her.
She looked away, forcing herself not to stare. Side by side, they ate their sack lunches. An easy silence settled over them. It always amazed Julie that she felt so comfortable being with this man. With Dal, there was no need for pretense or to make conversation. Because of their past, she now felt nervous and unsure of herself.
No boats dotted the surface of the lake today. Julie knew that would change once school let out for the summer. Her Forest Service work crews had seeded the lake last Thursday with seven-and eight-inch trout. The kids at Sunrise Ranch and other anglers would have a blast catching them.
A movement down by the lake caught Julie’s attention, and she reached for the binoculars she kept in her daypack. Looking through the lenses, she focused on a deer standing beside the shore near the narrow boat dock. Julie pointed it out for Dal.
The gentle animal dipped its head down for a cool drink of water. Then, as if sensing the two people watching it from above, the deer bolted, its spindly legs leaping over fallen tree trunks and low-lying boulders.
“Do you use the lake for the amputee camp?” Attempting to start a conversation, Julie handed the binoculars to Dal, then took a bite of her turkey sandwich.
Dal lifted the binoculars to his eyes and swallowed a bit of potato chip. “Yes.”
“Kayaking and swimming?”
“And fishing.”
She quirked her brows. “No water skiing?”
He lowered the binoculars. “No, it’s too expensive to buy and maintain speed boats. Besides, the kids who have both their legs are usually missing a hand or an arm. And the kids who have their hands are usually missin
g a leg. We’ve discussed using an inner tube to pull the kids on, but we don’t have any extra funds to buy a boat right now.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t thought about these issues. Any time she reached to pick up something or walked across the room, she took her hands and legs for granted. She couldn’t help admiring Dal’s determination to live with his amputation. Of course, he didn’t have a choice. But he did. She’d heard reports of broken soldiers returning from the war and committing suicide. The thought of Dal taking his own life tore her up inside. She couldn’t stand to even think about it.
The brooding silence continued. Julie glanced at Dal, taking in his tensed shoulders. The clipped words when he spoke. Nothing had changed between them since they’d started their trip that morning. Everything about him told her to go away. They both kept forgetting to be on guard. Like when Dal had given her the flower. But then they’d remembered the past, and both of them put up their barriers again.
She couldn’t blame Dal for being standoffish with her. She knew she’d hurt him years ago. But now she felt drawn to him more than ever. As though he needed her. Which was odd, considering he’d even refused her help for something as simple as getting up after falling off his horse. But she sensed that he was deeply troubled. Because of her. She didn’t know why. Her first instinct was to take the hint and leave him alone. Her dislike of men was justified. But that didn’t seem to matter now. Not with Dal anyway. She felt certain that he needed her in spite of his reticence. And that didn’t make sense at all. The Baldwins were his family now. Julie could see no future for the two of them. At least not as a couple. But maybe, after all these long, lonely years apart, it was finally time she made one lasting friendship.
“What time Monday do you want me to show up for work at Sunrise Ranch?” She bit her lip and watched to see his expression.
His face darkened, and she thought he might back out. “As soon as you get off work. You’ll hit the ground running. I guarantee we’ll keep you busy.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can get off work.”
Love Inspired February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Cowboy's Reunited FamilyThe Forest Ranger's ReturnMommy Wanted Page 27