The Forest Ranger's Promise. Leigh Bale

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СКАЧАТЬ Ennison watched her quietly, his blue eyes clear and lucid. She didn’t know how she’d ever live it down with the other ranchers if the new ranger died while in her care. Likewise, she doubted they’d let her forget helping him. In this small community, everyone knew everyone else’s secrets.

      “You know how to handle yourself with horses. You got those animals loaded in no time,” Ennison commented.

      She ignored his praise and stretched out her hand. “I need the key.”

      He reached inside his pants pocket and she heard the jingle as he placed some keys on her open palm. Anne sat hunched against Melanie’s side, her lips pinched as she stared straight ahead and refused to let any part of her leg touch the man.

      “I didn’t catch your name,” Ennison said.

      “It’s Mrs. McAllister.” Melanie inserted the key and started the ignition.

      “You don’t have a first name?”

      “Yes, I do.” She turned on the headlights and put the truck in gear.

      “What is it?” he persisted.

      She tossed an irritated glance his way, finding the gleam of his eyes unsettling. “Melanie, but my friends and family call me Mel. You can call me Mrs. McAllister.”

      She pressed on the accelerator, going slow. The horses thumped around in back, gaining their balance as the trailer bounced gently over the narrow dirt road.

      “Wait a minute. You’re Mel McAllister?” His eyes widened with surprise.

      “That’s right.” She tried not to look at him, but found it difficult. Worrying about this man didn’t sit well with her. She’d be a Good Samaritan this time, but that didn’t mean she had to be friends.

      “I recognize your name, but I thought you were a man.”

      She gave a harsh laugh. “Not hardly.”

      “I can see that.”

      Her cheeks heated up like road flares and she refused to look at him, grateful that the darkness hid her face.

      “You’re a grazing permittee,” he said.

      Her shoulders stiffened. “Unfortunately.”

      “You don’t like grazing on the National Forest?”

      “Of course I do. I just don’t like being told when, where and how to graze my sheep.”

      She caught his nod of acquiescence. “I can understand your hostility, but believe me when I say I have nothing against grazing the land. It’s here for us all to use.” He sighed. “It’s the overgrazing that I object to. That kills the land and causes erosion. With a bit of structure and management, there are ways to find a happy middle ground.”

      “Look, Mr. Ennison, my sheep aren’t going to cause any harm to your precious land. I’m smart enough to figure out that if we overgraze we won’t have enough quality feed for next year.”

      “It’s not my land, Melanie. It belongs to everyone. I just want to help preserve it for future generations.”

      Her eyes narrowed. “I find that hard to believe.”

      “Oh, you can believe it. For every dollar generated by the use of our renewable natural resources, an income of ten dollars is generated somewhere else down the line.” His voice filled with conviction. “Ranchers, auctioneers, loggers, truckers, the butcher in the grocery store, the contractor who builds our homes and many more—they all make a living because of our national lands.”

      She nodded. “I’m glad you understand that concept.”

      “Of course I do. We can’t regrow an oil field, but we can regrow trees and raise more cows. Our renewable resources are highly important to our nation’s economy.” He smiled at her. “And, please, call me Scott.”

      Strike one. How dare he be so informal with her? She bit her lip to keep from telling him what she really thought. Who did he think he was? She knew very well how important the forest lands were to her own livelihood. “So you’re not a preservationist?”

      “I’m guided by the Multiple Use Sustained Yield Act, which tells me to take care of our land for use by the most people for as long as we can. Ranchers are an important part of that effort.”

      “Well. I’m glad we got that straightened out. But I’ll have to watch and see if you act on your words.” His ideas made sense and mirrored her own beliefs, but she’d heard other rangers say one thing and do another often enough not to trust what he said.

      A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Just give me time, Mrs. McAllister. I’ll show you I’m a man of my word.”

      She hoped so, but she wasn’t certain she liked where this conversation was going. She could easily like this man, but she didn’t want to. “Maybe I should have left you for the grizzlies.”

      He laughed, not seeming to be injured in the least by her harsh comment. “I’m glad you have a sense of humor. I think we’ll get along just fine.”

      Was he daft? She had no intention of getting along with him. The sooner she got rid of him, the better.

      “Don’t think I’m easy pickings just because I’m a woman,” she warned. “I know all the games you rangers play and I’m not falling for it ever again.”

      “Again?”

      He studied her with those piercing eyes and she realized she’d said too much. The last thing she wanted was a snoopy forest ranger asking her questions.

      “No games, Melanie. I grew up on a ranch myself. I know how important the land is to grazing livestock.”

      Hmm. Maybe so, but he was still a ranger and would undoubtedly do whatever his bureaucratic bosses told him to do. She’d learned the hard way not to trust a ranger and it wouldn’t happen again.

      Chapter Two

      It took an hour of slow driving to reach the main road. Melanie didn’t head for Snyderville even to drop off her horses. Fearing Scott might die of some brain trauma, she sped on by the exit to reach the freeway to Evanston.

      “Where you going?” he asked as they passed the road sign pointing to Snyderville.

      Headlights blared in their eyes and she blinked as a semi passed them on the dark road. “I’m taking you to a hospital.”

      “That’s ninety miles away.”

      “That’s right,” she said.

      “There’s no need for that. I’m fine.”

      “You may have a concussion and I won’t be responsible for your death.” She didn’t look at him, wishing she could remain neutral. Wishing she didn’t care. Her husband had always chided her for taking in strays. She never figured that might include an injured forest ranger.

      Anne sagged СКАЧАТЬ