Love Inspired February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Cowboy's Reunited FamilyThe Forest Ranger's ReturnMommy Wanted

by Brenda Minton

  “Okay.”

  She heard the resignation in his voice, and her heart squeezed hard. All she could think about at that moment was how sorry she was for ever hurting this man when they were sixteen years old.

  Now he was all alone, just like her. No doubt his amputation had isolated him to a certain extent. And that sent a shiver of sadness skittering down Julie’s spine.

  “You deserve to be happy, Dal.”

  “Everyone deserves to be happy, Julie. You included.”

  She gave a slow shrug. “I am happy.”

  “Even being alone?”

  Her heart shot up to her throat. A buzzer went off inside her head, warning her that this was a taboo subject that would yank them both out of their safety zones. “Most of the time. What about you?”

  His head dipped down. “Most of the time.”

  He didn’t say what they both must be thinking. Yes, they were happy, but there were times when an aching loneliness settled over them like a damp blanket.

  Whether they admitted it or not, they both needed someone, anyone, to love them for who and what they were. Dal was a talented, desirable man. In spite of his amputation. In spite of his limitations.

  Okay, those thoughts were no good. She was out of her depth here, in danger of drowning. Her thoughts touched the lonely place she kept buried deep inside. Opening her hidden feelings to the light of day would only bring her more pain. But something told her she must not walk away from him again. Not this time.

  She smiled and nudged his arm. A playful gesture she immediately regretted. But she’d always felt so relaxed around this man. Even before she’d loved him like crazy. “Dal.”

  He looked at her, his eyes wary. “What?”

  “Don’t worry about my helping out at the ranch. I’m not going to hurt you again. I promise.” And she meant it. She mustered every ounce of willpower to show the truth on her face. Trying to win his trust again.

  He blinked, then took a brief, settling breath. “I sure hope not.”

  * * *

  Dal brushed a shaking hand against his prosthesis. After his fall, he’d felt stupid and inadequate. Like a joke. Now, listening to Julie’s vow not to hurt him again, he didn’t know how he felt. His lips parted to speak, but no words came out. His tongue felt as though it had been stapled to the roof of his mouth.

  He tried again. “I think it’s time for us to go home now.”

  “Yes, I’m eager to write up my report while everything is still fresh in my mind.” She hopped up, gathered the wrappers from their lunch and placed them in a paper sack to pack off the mountain.

  He stood, the trembling in his limbs finally abating. He felt strong and in control again. And yet, it was a facade that deepened the emptiness in his heart. All it took was one faulty step and he’d be lying facedown in the dirt, struggling to get up again. Crawling across the ground like a lowly animal.

  “Where did you finally graduate from high school?” he asked as they got on their horses.

  “Robert’s High School, in Tulsa.”

  “I always wondered who took you to your senior prom. Remember that green dress you wanted to buy?”

  She flashed a sad smile. “Yeah, but I didn’t go.”

  A sharp pang of regret stabbed his heart. “Me, neither. I didn’t want to take anyone but you. But I can hardly believe no guys asked you out.”

  “A couple of them asked, but I...I didn’t feel like going.”

  He wanted to ask why, to tell her she could have gone with him, if she’d just kept in touch with him. But somehow, he knew even that wouldn’t have mattered.

  He settled himself in the saddle, clutching the cantle with one hand. “You should have gone and had fun dancing.”

  She looked down, gathering the reins in her hands. After a moment, she looked up and met his gaze, a faraway look in her eyes. “I...I had a bad experience with one of my foster dads, Dal. He...he hurt me real bad. That’s why my social worker pulled me out of that house.”

  A heavy weight settled on Dal’s chest, and he swallowed. He didn’t want to know, but was compelled to ask. “What happened?”

  She turned her head away, and he thought he saw the sparkle of tears on her cheeks.

  “I...I can’t believe I just told you that. But I’d rather not talk about it, Dal. It’s an ugly memory I’d rather forget.”

  Dal sat there motionless. Unable to move. Unable to breathe. He wasn’t stupid, and his imagination ran wild. And then he felt regret like a claw ripping his heart to shreds. If only he’d been there, he might have been able to protect Julie. To keep her safe. He tried to imagine how she felt. How she’d coped with her life. It had been so unfair to both of them.

  “I don’t have the answers to everything, Julie. But I do know there’s no hurt in the world the atonement of Jesus Christ can’t heal.”

  She looked at him, her warm brown eyes seeing deep into his soul. “I want to believe that, Dal. I really do. And I’m trying. But I hope you’ll take your own advice.”

  His breath rushed out of his lungs, as though she’d just slugged him in the gut. She’d always been so blunt. Calling his bluffs. Hitting the nail on the head. He shouldn’t be surprised that she’d turned the tables on him. He’d been trying to help her and, in turn, she’d given it right back to him.

  If only she knew the truth, she might think differently. He’d gotten on with his life. He’d healed. But he couldn’t change the inevitable. Accepting his own limitations was easy, but he wouldn’t foist them off on her. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her his own deep, dark secret.

  As they rode back the way they’d come, the afternoon sun waned into early evening. Spending time with Julie up on Gilway Trail had been eye-opening, to say the least. Even so, it didn’t change anything between them.

  At least not for him.

  Chapter Seven

  She was late. Work at the office had kept her after hours. Dashing out of the Forest Service building on Monday evening, Julie raced home to change her clothes. She didn’t want to wear her ranger’s uniform to help serve food at Sunrise Ranch. Next time, she’d remember to take her street clothes to work with her and change there.

  On the drive out to the ranch, she tried to keep within the speed limit. Her pulse skipped into double time, a bead of perspiration dotting her forehead. She tried to tell herself her nerves had nothing to do with seeing Dal again. That she was just keyed up over the work she’d volunteered to do at the camp. She knew it was so much more than that.

  She parked her car in front of Lyn and Cade’s house and threw the door wide-open. Sprinting past the gazebo where the kids worked on their art projects, she raced to the dining hall. The buzz of voices and the rattle of dishes met her ears as she darted into the kitchen. A beehive of activity engulfed her. She came up short at the threshold, breathing in the pungent kitchen aromas of garlic, tomato sauce and dishwashing soap.

  Adults wearing bright red T-shirts that read Staff across the backs stood at a counter with a glass panel, serving food as kids filed by with their trays. More adults were positioned beside two enormous stainless-steel sinks, scraping plates and washing enormous pots and pans and utensils. Swarms of amputee kids sat at the long tables in the hall, eating their dinner. Their happy laughter mingled with the loud chatter. Excited voices filled the air as the kids made new friends and discussed the upcoming activities for the week. Julie couldn’t blame them. Free from their parents for a whole week, they were understandably excited and pleased with this new adventure. Normal kids in every way, except that each one had an amputation of some kind.

  Wearing a variety of leg, arm and hand prosthetics, some kids used crutches, walkers and canes as they made their way through the food line. One little girl with legs but no arms received help from a camp instructor. Her lack of limb
s didn’t seem to hinder the child in the least. She hopped up and down with excitement, laughing as one of the other kids tugged playfully on her two long braids.

  Julie’s heart gave a poignant squeeze, and she tried not to stare. She couldn’t explain it, but she wanted to hug each and every child and tell them how much she loved them. Except for Kristen, she didn’t know any of these kids, yet she cared what happened to them. A Christlike love that filled her with compassion. She couldn’t explain it better than that.

  “Julie!”

  She turned and saw Dal standing in front of the industrial-size stove, stirring the contents of a tall, silver pot. Dressed in his usual blue jeans and cowboy boots, he also wore a long white chef’s apron over his black T-shirt. She couldn’t resist smiling at this masculine man in such garb.

  Relieved to see someone she recognized, Julie slipped past the other workers and sidled over to him. “Hi there. Sorry I’m so late.”

  His gaze skimmed over her ponytail and plain work clothes with approval. “It’s no problem. Thanks for coming. We can sure use your help tonight.”

  His words warmed her heart. It felt good to be needed. “I’m glad to help. What do you want me to do?”

  Lifting his hand, he gestured toward a closet. The wooden spoon he held dripped a creamy white soup mixture into the tall pot. “We’ve got some extra aprons inside there, and you can stow your purse out of sight.”

  She did as he asked and retrieved an apron similar to the one he wore. When she walked past him, he snapped his dish towel at her hip. She gave a nervous laugh, trying to ignore his teasing smile as she looped the top of the apron over her head. Dal came up behind her to secure the ties at the small of her back. She held perfectly still, the firm movements of his hands tugging on the apron making her jittery.

  “How are you at cooking?” he asked, his warm breath brushing against the nape of her neck.

  She shivered, in spite of the summer heat.

  “Not very good,” she answered honestly over her shoulder. “Berta taught me to boil water and use a microwave, but that’s about it. I can’t cook at all.”

  Returning to the stove, he quirked one brow. “Can you stir a pot to keep the contents from burning?”

  “Of course.” She flashed a half smile.

  “Good, you can stir the soup while I get another batch of rolls in the oven.” He reached in front of her to grab a set of oven mitts for his hands, and she caught his warm, clean scent.

  His nearness reminded her of the cooking class they’d taken together in high school. She hadn’t learned a thing, but she’d had so much fun with him. Laughing. Feeding each other spoonfuls of tapioca pudding. Making plans for the rest of their life together. That had been an idyllic time. A naive time, before real problems intervened.

  She picked up the long-handled wooden spoon he’d abandoned and stirred the pot. Her gaze followed his graceful movements as he lifted a heavy baking pan filled with rounded gobs of dough, opened the oven door and slid the pan inside. Almost simultaneously, he pulled a hot pan of golden-brown rolls out of the oven and slapped it onto a wooden countertop to cool. A warm, yeasty aroma filled the air. With a quick twist of his wrist, he set the timer. After a couple of minutes, he flipped the cooked rolls into a large basket lined with a clean cloth.

  “You’ve become so domestic,” she said.

  “If you think this is domestic, you ought to see what I can do with apple pie and lasagna.” He waggled his eyebrows at her as he carried the basket of rolls to the front counter for the kids to consume.

  Julie laughed, amazed to see him moving around the kitchen like a seasoned pro. More and more, she realized that his prosthetic leg was no hindrance at all. When she realized she was staring at his biceps, she jerked her gaze away and listened as he called to the kids.

  “Come and get them. Hot out of the oven.”

  Several children hobbled over, and he teased them as he set some of the warm rolls onto their plates.

  “You guys hungry?” he asked as he worked.

  They all nodded, their faces wide with grins.

  “Well, eat up and have fun. Get lots of rest tonight, because I’m gonna keep you very busy tomorrow.”

  The kids just beamed.

  This was the Dal Julie knew and remembered. Happy. Outgoing. So filled with life. When she thought about the boy she’d loved, she could see him now in the handsome, competent man he’d become. Losing his leg hadn’t dimmed his masculine appeal. Not for her.

  She looked away, her smile fading. The urge to trust Dal waged a war with her fears. She’d confided in him, but getting closer than that wasn’t in her plans. It wasn’t that she thought he’d ever hurt her. But after what her foster father had done, she just didn’t think an intimate relationship was for her. Not with any man. And that left her feeling sad and lonely. Emotions she’d grown comfortable with.

  Until recently. Lately, she found them a nuisance and even wished she could put them aside for good. To move on with her life.

  With Dal.

  No! She shouldn’t be thinking such thoughts. Not at her age. Romance had passed her by long ago. She was a career woman now.

  Dal returned to her side just as a loud crash caused her to jerk her head around. Through the glass counter, she saw two boys in front of the tables. One boy around ten years old with bright red hair lay sprawled across the linoleum floor. His prosthetic leg was twisted at an odd angle that told her it had come loose from his stump when he’d fallen. His tray of food lay splattered across the floor. A second boy, a couple years younger with coal-black hair and missing his left hand at the wrist, stood over him, laughing.

  “Ha, ha! You’re so clumsy.”

  “You did that on purpose!” the fallen boy yelled as he pushed himself into a sitting position. He brushed at his shirtfront, which was covered with mashed potatoes and gravy.

  “Did not,” the other child called in a belligerent tone.

  Stationed in the dining hall, Lyn handed Clarisse off to Kristen, then raced over to the fallen boy. “Eddie, are you all right?”

  She knelt down to help Eddie adjust the socket around his stump. Thank goodness the boy was wearing knee-length shorts, which made the prosthesis more accessible.

  Two staff members Julie didn’t recognize scurried over to pick up the broken dishes and clean up the mess. The other kids stared, watching the argument with wide eyes.

  “He’s clumsy, that’s all,” the belligerent boy crowed loudly. “He needs to watch where he’s going.”

  “You tripped me,” Eddie insisted through angry tears.

  With an exasperated huff, Dal slapped his oven mitts on the counter, then jutted his chin toward Julie’s pot of soup. “Keep stirring, Jules. I’ll be back.”

  Her jaw dropped as she watched him head for the door. She stirred furiously as he rounded the counter and sauntered into the cafeteria to deal with the two boys.

  Jules. He’d called her Jules. She hadn’t heard that name since...since the last time he’d come to visit her in Tulsa for her sixteenth birthday. No one else had ever called her Jules. Just Dal. Hearing him use the name now made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. As if she’d come home after being gone for years and years. Since Dal was her only living tie to her past, she supposed she had come home, in a way.

  To him.

  She shook her head, slamming the door on that thought.

  “Marcus, did you trip Eddie on purpose?” Dal stood in front of the dark-haired boy and placed his hands on his hips, a completely male stance.

  “Nah, he just tripped. He’s a clumsy ox,” Marcus said, his impish smirk a dead giveaway to his mischief.

  By this time, Lyn had Eddie back on his feet, her arm wrapped around his shoulders. The boy sniffed, his eyes red, tears streaming down his freckled cheeks.
r />   “You stuck your foot out and tripped me. You did it on purpose,” Eddie cried.

  “Did not,” Marcus yelled back.

  “Yes, you did. I saw you,” a little girl interrupted.

  “Marcus, come with me, please,” Dal said.

  The man stood back, giving the boy room to precede him out the door. Marcus’s features tightened, his eyes narrowed with anger. For a moment, Julie feared he might refuse to go. He was too young to take Dal on, but his eyes hardened with fury. She had no idea how parents dealt with their naughty children. This situation was completely alien to her.

  Thankfully, Marcus obeyed. He stomped outside with Dal, glowering at everyone as he passed. The other children looked away, not meeting his eyes. Julie couldn’t help wondering why the boy acted so hatefully. Had losing his left hand done this to him, or some other form of neglect or abuse by his parents?

  She pondered her thickened soup, wondering what she should do with it now. Should she turn off the heat and try to carry the heavy pan over to the counter, or wait for Dal to return?

  Lyn came to her rescue.

  “Hi, Julie. I’m so glad you’re here. We’d be lost without you tonight.”

  Julie doubted that, but gave a pleased smile.

  “Put these on and help me carry the pot over to the counter so we can ladle it out for the kids.” Lyn handed Julie the oven mitts Dal had discarded earlier, then found a second pair for herself.

  Together, the two women gripped the wide handles of the heavy pot and lifted it off the stove. They slowly moved it across the kitchen to the serving line.

  “Look out, coming through with a hot pot.” Lyn called the warning to the kitchen staff.

  Several men and women scrambled out of the way as Lyn and Julie set the large soup pot down at the front counter.

  The buzzer rang, and Julie raced over to pull the rolls out of the oven, copying Dal’s movements exactly. Once she had the rolls taken care of, she found herself standing at the counter, ladling creamy broccoli soup into bowls. The kids grinned up at her, and she couldn’t help smiling back. Though she didn’t speak, she found their enthusiasm infectious. They were so young and vulnerable. A warm, full feeling settled in her chest. She felt happy to be here. Happy to be doing a good deed for these kids.