Falling for the Forest Ranger. Leigh Bale

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      “Okay, good. Thank you.” Zoë turned her serene gaze back to the screen, not seeming ruffled in the least. In fact, she seemed genuinely interested in what they were saying.

      And that’s when Tanner had an inkling that she wasn’t here as some sort of practical joke. She was just doing her job. He’d seen her résumé, which indicated an educated, qualified professional. Maybe he should reserve judgment until he saw what she was capable of.

      A picture of Grand Coulee Dam flashed across the screen. A monolith of concrete and steel, the dam stood 550 feet tall. “Large hydroelectric dams and floodgates along the Columbia River have completely blocked the water, so fish can’t swim upstream to spawn.”

      The biologist brought up another slide of the now-abandoned Moses Mine, located ninety miles outside of town. “Tailings from copper mines have poisoned the creeks. It’s taken thousands of dollars and decades of work to clean up the mess, and we still don’t have it cleaned up. Every time we have another flooding rain, it just brings the poisons back into the creekbeds.”

      Ron pressed the button again. Another slide of dozens of salmon lying dead across a local farmer’s potato field appeared. “Water diversion for irrigation causes numerous problems. Without screens, fish get lost and bypass the canal, ending up in irrigation ditches with nowhere to go. Irrigation usage lowers the water level in creeks, so fish can’t swim upstream. With less water, the temperature increases to critical levels. Pollutants become more concentrated. All these things kill off fish fry and smolt by the thousands.”

      Zoë shook her head, her lips pursed in disgust.

      A slide showing a barren mountain once populated by tall ponderosa pine flickered overhead and Ron continued his dialogue. “Many logging operations have been allowed to overharvest trees in some areas, causing massive erosion into the streams.”

      Ron’s last slide showed several red Angus cows standing in the middle of a stream while their owner sat on his horse on the edge of the bank and looked on. “Ranchers allow their cattle to roam freely along the creekbeds, denuding vegetation from the stream banks as well as stomping on the fragile redds.”

      Ron clicked off the presentation. “That’s it.”

      Tanner nodded at Chuck to turn the lights back on. “And, of course, wildfire also creates an environment for erosion, though we’ve been taking precautions to help alleviate the possibility of wildfires.”

      Zoë’s chair creaked as she sat back. “But the environment seems to recover more quickly from wildfire erosion than it does from timber-harvest erosion.”

      “That’s correct, Ms. Lawton,” Tanner agreed, surprised that she knew this. “Nothing’s changed from what you already know. We’ve got a lot of problems to deal with.”

      “What would you say is the biggest problem the endangered fish are facing?”

      Tanner didn’t hesitate to respond. “That’s easy. The hydroelectric dams. They’re impregnable for fish to pass through.”

      Her eyes crinkled as she thought this over. “Unfortunately we can’t do anything about that.”

      “You’re right, Ms. Lawton. Saving our endangered fish has proven to be a challenge we’re determined to meet.”

      She smiled politely, speaking in a soft, confident tone. “I don’t see why the solutions are complicated. We just tell the farmers, ranchers and loggers what they can and can’t do. Then we enforce it, giving the streams and fish time to recover from the abuse. And please, call me Zoë.”

      Not if he could help it. Instead, he cleared his throat. “The farmers and ranchers only care about their livelihoods, not a bunch of fish that have landed on the endangered-species list.”

      “That’s true,” Chuck said. “Two years ago, we had four hundred angry farmers and loggers picketing our building like a pack of sharks. They were furious with the changes we were trying to make because it jeopardized their incomes. Now Tanner and his team have them at least listening to our ideas. But progress has been slow.”

      Zoë crossed her long legs. Her lovely eyes narrowed, her soft mouth hardening with determination. “We can’t afford to make slow progress. Something must be done now. I have instructions to put a stop to the abuses and improve the situation along Bingham River. My boss in Portland expects nothing less. And that’s what I intend to do.”

      “We’re interested in the same thing,” Tanner assured her, feeling protective of his efforts with the farmers and loggers. Over the past three years, he’d made a lot of progress in helping the endangered fish. They didn’t need this woman’s interference. The last thing he wanted was for an outsider to come in and mess up all his hard work.

      “That’s right,” Chuck agreed. “And I think you’ll find that Tanner is the one man who has the acumen to deal with all our water users. He has a special touch for getting the ranchers and loggers to cooperate with us in helping improve the spawning runs.”

      Chuck tossed Tanner a smile full of confidence, but in his eyes, Tanner detected a glint of warning. As the forest supervisor, Chuck didn’t want to upset the marine biologist from the National Marine Fisheries Service. Tanner reminded himself they were all working for the good of the endangered fish, but he was also smart enough to know that politics weighed heavily in this equation. Any failure on Tanner’s part would trickle downhill. It could make Chuck look bad, which would bounce down onto Tanner’s head.

      So Tanner must not fail. Even if it meant working with an attractive marine biologist like Zoë Lawton.

      “We obviously want the same things. So where do we start?” Zoë asked.

      Tanner unrolled a large map and pointed out particularly troublesome areas along the river. The group discussed each issue at length.

      “When can we go out to look at some of these sites?” Zoë asked.

      Tanner couldn’t help being pleasantly surprised. At least she seemed eager and willing. “I’ve already set up some interviews with a few farmers on Saturday morning.”

      She hesitated, her forehead creasing with a frown. “Does it have to be on Saturday?”

      “That’s the best time for the farmers. When we accommodate their schedules, they’re more friendly and willing to hear us out.” Tanner hoped she wouldn’t demand the farmers meet her timetable.

      “I can go, but my son will need to tag along. I don’t have child care on Saturdays. Is that okay?”

      Oh, no. Not the kid. A sinking feeling of dread settled in Tanner’s stomach. The last thing he wanted was to spend his weekend with this lovely woman and her talkative little boy.

      “That’ll be fine,” Chuck said.

      With his boss sanctioning it, Tanner had little choice but to agree. “We’ll leave from here. Meet me in the parking lot at eight a.m. and plan to be gone most of the day.”

      “Will do.” Zoë scooted back her chair and stood gracefully before turning to shake first Gary’s, then Ron’s hand. When she reached toward Tanner, she met his gaze without flinching. “Thank you for this enlightening discussion. I look forward to working with you.”

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