The Forest Ranger's Promise. Leigh Bale

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СКАЧАТЬ the valley. Poplars lined the long gravel driveway. Scott remembered Melanie talking about the beautiful sunsets and he could understand why she loved it here. As the summer breeze blew through the treetops, he envied the beauty and solitude of this place.

      Shelley peered at the open fields of hay and alfalfa. Boredom crinkled her brow. She stood beside him wearing a short white skirt and sandals, her long, blond hair pulled back with a pink ribbon. Delicate and pretty as a picture.

      She held a paper plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies covered with tin foil. Thinking it might be quality time together, he’d insisted that she help him make the cookies after he took two aspirin for his pounding headache. She’d sat on a kitchen stool and munched chocolate chips while he mixed the dough. No amount of cajoling could get her to help measure out the flour and eggs.

      “Why couldn’t you just call to say thank you?” the girl complained.

      “You wanted something to do. We’re doing something right now.” He forced a smile, her grumbling getting on his nerves. In addition to her pretty looks, she’d inherited her mother’s penchant for whining. He hoped to change that someday soon.

      “Maybe no one’s home.” A hopeful lilt filled her voice.

      “Maybe they’re working out back.” Scott peered at the rusty old truck sitting in the driveway. He let go of the screen door and it clapped closed. His booted heels pounded the wood as he walked the length of the porch. He ducked his head so he wouldn’t hit the hanging baskets of white petunias and blue lobelia. Several large clay pots filled with white, fragrant alyssum sat along the edge of the porch and he breathed in deeply. Having a background in botany, he was probably one of the few regular men in the world who knew these names.

      He glanced around with interest. The green lawn showed impeccable grooming, with flower beds of tall hollyhocks. A vegetable garden of peas, lettuce and beets filled the backyard, guarded by a white picket fence. No tomato or pepper plants. Scott knew they wouldn’t grow well at this cooler elevation.

      It seemed Melanie had a green thumb and he liked that for some odd reason.

      Shelley followed him, hanging back as a black-and-white border collie with droopy ears trotted out of the barn. The animal gave one bark, then greeted them by sniffing their legs.

      “Will he bite?” Shelley circled her dad, seeking protection.

      “I don’t think so.” Scott leaned forward and put out his hand, letting the animal sniff him. Considering they were strangers, the dog seemed composed and gentle. Most likely one of Melanie’s sheepdogs, trained to be calm and not bark a lot.

      “Hi there, fella. Where’s your master?” Scott scratched the dog’s ears.

      “Probably in the barn,” Shelley said.

      “Hello! Anyone here?” Scott stood at the back of the McAllisters’ house and shouted. He gazed at the variety of green fields, lean-to’s for working in the hot sun, barns, sheds and corrals filled with sheep. Low fences with tight rails and netting kept the sheep from squeezing through. A tractor, four-wheelers and other equipment sat parked neatly at the side of the garage. Melanie could be anywhere, even up on the mountain. He figured that since they’d been up all night at the hospital, she would have had a late start, like him, and stayed home to work today.

      “Dad! Look at the babies,” Shelley exclaimed, pointing at a corral where approximately thirty small lambs scampered around, bawling for their mothers.

      “Come on.” Scott stepped off the porch and headed across the road leading to the barn. The dog trotted beside them, its tongue lolling out of its mouth as it panted. The stench of animals filled the air.

      “Yuck! It stinks here.” Shelley pinched her nose.

      “Breathe through your mouth instead of your nose. You’ll get used to it,” Scott advised.

      The girl gave him a look of incredulity, which he ignored. It had been tempting to leave Shelley with Karen today, but he knew they’d never become close that way. The sooner Shelley got used to living in Snyderville, the happier she’d be. Which would make him happy. He hoped.

      At the corrals, Shelley stood on the bottom rail of the fence, holding the plate of cookies as she leaned over the top rail to peer at the little, fluffy lambs. He hoped she didn’t drop the plate.

      “Oh, they’re so cute. Can we play with them?”

      Scott chuckled. “I thought you didn’t want to come along. You thought this would be boring.”

      She showed a grin of slightly crooked teeth. “That was before I knew we were gonna see sweet little babies.”

      Victory! He’d finally found something she liked.

      “Come on. Let’s see if anyone’s here. Maybe you can play with the lambs.” He inclined his head toward the barn.

      The wide double doors stood open, the bright sunlight filtering inside. As Scott stepped into the shadows, he caught the pungent aroma of straw and animals. Dust motes floated in the air. Stalls lined one wall of the barn with a small tractor, shovels and other tools hanging neatly on hooks along the other wall. He heard voices coming from the opposite end of the barn.

      “You think she’s too tender to ride?”

      “Nah, she’ll be all right. Won’t you, girl?”

      Scott followed the voices, hearing several muted clapping sounds, as if someone were patting a horse.

      Conscious of Shelley hovering at his heels, he peered into a stall at the far end of the barn. An older man wearing a beat-up Stetson and a white, scruffy beard stood bent over a mare’s right front leg. The man held the animal’s hoof between his knees. Wearing baggy, faded blue jeans and old cowboy boots, he used a metal pick to clean dirt away from the sole of the horse’s hoof. He grunted as he fought to reach over his own rotund belly.

      Melanie stood leaning against the stall, one booted foot raised and braced against the wooden wall behind her. Her forehead crinkled and her delicate jaw tensed as she watched the farrier work. Strands of auburn hair came free of her long braid, resting against her flushed cheeks. Even wearing blue jeans, she looked too feminine for such work, but Scott knew better. Life couldn’t be easy with her husband gone, but this woman had spunk and was sure of what she was doing. Scott couldn’t help admiring her.

      “See here?” The farrier pointed at the hoof and Melanie lowered her foot as she leaned forward to see. “I’ll rasp the outside of the heel, but not the inside toe, which is much lower. I think once we get the heels lined up with the back of the frog, she’ll be in good shape for riding.”

      Scott took a step and Melanie turned, her green eyes widening. His senses went into overdrive the moment she looked at him. Since when had he had such a reaction to a woman? Even Allison never made him feel warm and gushy inside. He rubbed one hand over his face, regaining his composure.

      Her gaze lowered to his drab olive Forest Service shirt and the badge he wore on the flap of his left front shirt pocket. Her lips pursed together in annoyance. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder at the farrier, she pushed a curl of hair back behind her ear. “Mr. Ennison. This is a surprise.” She gestured nervously toward the bearded man. “Have you met Pete Longley? He’s a local rancher and the best farrier around Snyderville.”

      “I’ve СКАЧАТЬ