The Forest Ranger's Christmas. Leigh Bale

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СКАЧАТЬ had never hung lights on a house before, but she would learn how. And soon. No matter what, she wanted this to be the best Christmas ever. Because it might be their last here in Camlin.

      A rivulet of meltwater ran from the gutters. Her gaze scanned the peeling paint and missing shingles. Without repairs, the moisture might soon invade the interior. Further proof that Gramps could no longer keep up the place on his own. He needed help. He needed her. She couldn’t stand the thought of him collapsing on the floor of his house and lying there for days on end until someone found and helped him. But asking a man like Frank Rushton to leave his home and move with her to Vegas might ruin Christmas. Regardless, she had to do it. Because as much as she loved her job, she was tired of being on her own. If Gramps lived nearby, she could check in on him often. Neither of them would be alone anymore. It’d be good for Gramps. And good for her, too.

      She hoped.

      She shielded her eyes against the blare of red lights emanating from the squad car like the beacon of a lighthouse. The men were talking and gesturing, but she couldn’t make out their words over the piercing squeal of the siren. It was so like Tim to leave it on. Even as a kid, he’d been loud and obnoxious. Always hanging around when Josie was in town to visit her grandparents.

      She sighed inwardly, admitting she wasn’t very good at relationships.

      Tim’s voice escalated as he shook a stern finger beneath Gramps’s nose. When he reached to unsnap the leather tab over his holster, Josie’s breath hitched in her throat.

      She broke into a run.

      “Officer Wilkins, I didn’t expect you to come over here today.” The forest ranger’s voice boomed over the keening howl.

      “Just helping to keep the peace,” Tim said.

      Ha! Not with all the racket his squad car was making.

      Clint jutted his chin toward the neon orb flashing on top of the black-and-white vehicle, his brow furrowed in frustration. “Can you please turn off the lights and siren on your squad car? I can’t hear what everyone’s saying. And no guns will be necessary.”

      Tim’s eyes crinkled in disappointment as he yelled his response. “Sorry about that.”

      He trotted back to his police car, puffing for breath as he passed Josie along the way.

      “Hi there, Josie. Good to see you home,” he shouted with a wave.

      She nodded, too distracted to speak right now, her composure rattled. Her father had grown up in Camlin, where everyone knew almost everyone else, including a granddaughter who’d been visiting here all her life. That had good points and bad. The good was that most people here cared about her. The bad was that everyone knew her personal business, no matter how hard she tried to keep it private.

      It didn’t help that Gramps had a penchant for gossip.

      He gestured to the side, where at least two dozen fir and spruce trees leaned against the chain-link fence that edged his driveway and bordered his front lawn. “I haven’t done anything wrong, Ranger. I just cut fresh Christmas trees like I’ve done every year of my life since long before you was even a gleam in your daddy’s eyes.”

      Trees? This was about Christmas trees?

      The harsh sound of the siren died abruptly, and everyone in the yard exhaled with relief. Finally Josie could hear herself think.

      “Gramps! What’s going on?” She squinted at her grandfather until the red orb on the police car was shut off , then she blinked.

      “Why, Josie. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Gramps engulfed her in a tight bear hug.

      The scents of peppermint and arthritis cream assailed her nostrils. When Gramps released her, she drew back and gazed at his gruff face, looking for signs of distress. He wasn’t a young man anymore, but he appeared strong, his cheeks flushed from the cold winter air. His steely gray eyes twinkled with joy and she couldn’t help smiling back. How she loved him. How glad she was to see him again.

      “Remember I called you last week to tell you I was driving in today?” she said.

      He blinked and gave her an absentminded frown. “Oh, yeah. That’s right. When did you get into town?”

      “Just now. Are you okay?”

      He waved a grizzled hand in the air. “Sure, I’m fine. How was your drive? Did you get caught in any snowstorms along the way?”

      “No, but I—”

      “How long can you stay?”

      “About five weeks. But I want to talk—”

      “So long? Why, that’s wonderful news. We’ll have so much fun. But we better go shopping. Ma always made a big ham for Christmas dinner, but maybe you’d like something else this year. What about prime rib? We can have whatever you like, as long as there’s pumpkin pie and homemade rolls. You know your grandma made the best—”

      “Ahem.” The ranger cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt your reunion, Frank. But we’ve got to clear this matter up.”

      Josie gazed at Clint, recalling what Grandma had once told her about the man. A single father, with a cute little girl he was raising. Tall and well-built, with a blunt chin, short brown hair, and a dazzling smile that sucked the breath right out of her lungs. When he smiled, that is. But he wasn’t smiling right now.

      From her peripheral vision, Josie was conscious of Officer Wilkins joining them again. Without the wail of the siren, they automatically lowered their voices to a rational level.

      “Can you tell me what this is about?” she asked, trying to calm her jangled nerves.

      “Honey, you remember Clint Hamilton, the local forest ranger,” Gramps said.

      How could she forget? They hadn’t said more than a handful of words to each other in the more than three years since he’d moved to town, but Josie would have to be a saint not to notice his slightly crooked smile and dark good looks. And she was definitely no saint. Not in this life, anyway. But since her broken engagement with Edward had been a mere eight months earlier, she wasn’t interested in another romance. At least, that’s what she told herself.

      “Clint and his little daughter, Gracie, are members of my church congregation,” Gramps continued. “You’ve met them a few times over the past years. They were at Ma’s funeral back in September.”

      Ma. The affectionate name Gramps used to refer to Viola, his wife of fifty-seven years. When she’d died three months earlier, something had changed inside Josie. She loved her job as a pharmacist, but suddenly work wasn’t enough anymore. She wanted more, but wasn’t sure what that might be. And so she’d decided to take a break and figure things out. Already, being here made her feel lighter inside. As though her presence really mattered. To Gramps, anyway.

      She nodded at Clint. He’d been one of the pallbearers for Grandma’s casket. And following the service, he’d shaken Josie’s hand and offered sincere condolences for her loss. She’d looked into his caring eyes and felt her sorrow melt away. Then he’d stepped aside and she’d been blown back to her lonely reality.

      “Clint, you remember my granddaughter, СКАЧАТЬ