The Forest Ranger's Rescue. Leigh Bale

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       Chapter Two

      “No, I don’t have an appointment with the forest ranger, but I still need to see him. Right now.” Jill stood inside the reception room of the redbrick Forest Service office, gripping the strap of her blue leather purse with whitened knuckles.

      Martha Hartnett, the receptionist, stared at her with wide eyes. Jill met the older woman’s gaze without flinching. Feeling determined and forceful. Unwilling to leave this office until she got the answers she needed.

      “I’ll ask if he can see you,” Martha murmured as she walked around the high counter, and headed down the long hallway toward the back offices.

      Jill watched her go, feeling shameful for her pushy behavior. Martha’s husband worked at the sawmill and Jill hated upsetting the woman. This situation wasn’t Martha’s fault. But Jill was exhausted. She’d spent a sleepless night, sitting up with her anguished mother, trying to sort through everything her brother had told her. Accusations against Alan that didn’t make sense.

      At least, not to her.

      Jill didn’t know what to believe right now. Alan had always been a good kid. Hardworking and generous. And he’d proven it when Dad had died eight months earlier. While Jill lived in Boise with a career she loved and the aftershocks of a broken heart, Alan had stepped in to take on full management of Russell Sawmill without a single complaint. Timber harvest had been here in Bartlett since the early 1900s, when Teddy Roosevelt and his army of forest rangers had demanded the preservation of large tracts of land for future generations. Jill’s great-great-grandfather had built Russell Sawmill and never left town. But Jill had—as fast as she could go. The moment she’d graduated from high school. After all, what kind of future would she have had here? None. Unless she’d wanted to work at the sawmill the rest of her life. Which she hadn’t—and still didn’t.

      It was a two-and-a-half hour drive from Bartlett to the nearest doctor, dentist and decent shopping in the city of Boise. She pacified her guilt for not coming home often by telling herself it was too far to drive frequently. And since leaving Bartlett, she’d returned only for Christmas holidays, short summer vacations, her father’s funeral and to help occasionally at the mill.

      Until now.

      Alan was only twenty-six. Though she was proud that he’d taken it on, he was too young for so much responsibility. The whole family knew he wasn’t much of a businessman when it came to balancing the books, but Alan knew logging and how to run the timber yard. If not for her brother taking over the mill operations, they might have had to sell it off. Or worse yet, shut their doors. With dozens of employees depending upon the sawmill for their livelihood, they just couldn’t close up shop. But now, Alan had been accused of something dreadful.

      Timber theft.

      A charge that could destroy their family’s reputation and put their entire sawmill out of operation. Jill couldn’t let that happen. Alan claimed he was innocent. And to find out the truth, Jill had to speak with the forest ranger. She had to know why he believed Alan had stolen hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of ponderosa pine.

      “Jill?”

      Jerking around, she came face-to-face with Brent Knowles. He stood inside the doorway, his sun-bronzed features creased with confusion. In a quick glance, her gaze swept over his handsome face, then down past his drab olive-colored shirt and spruce-green pants. Her gaze focused on the bronze shield pinned to the left front pocket of his shirt. In a rush, her stomach cramped with uncertainty and a tight breath whispered past her lips.

      Forest ranger.

      Inwardly, Jill groaned. Recognition flashed through her brain like lightning across the mountains. Brent was the ranger. Evie’s daddy. The man that had made Jill think about dating and giving love a second chance. The same man that had accused Jill’s brother of stealing timber from the national forest.

      Jill blinked, trying to absorb the truth with her dazed brain. Surely Brent couldn’t be the same person who had soothed Evie so tenderly the day before.

      Or could he?

      For several moments, she couldn’t contain her surprise. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes narrowed. “Y-you’re the forest ranger?”

      Her voice sounded small and uncertain. She’d been gone from home long enough that they must have changed forest rangers on her. The last ranger she’d worked with at her family’s sawmill had been short and portly, with a large belly that jiggled over his belt buckle when he walked. Overbellie, they’d called him. Not this tall, gorgeous man with a friendly smile that turned her brain to mush. Right now, she felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room.

      “Yes, I’m the ranger.” Brent nodded, tilting his head to one side as he looked at her quizzically. No doubt, he was wondering what she was doing here. And why she’d so rudely demanded to see him.

      “Oh.” Her voice sounded like a deflating balloon.

      “You look upset. Why don’t you come back to my office so we can talk?” He stepped back, waiting for her to precede him down the hall.

      For the count of three, Jill hesitated. Every harsh word she’d planned to say to this man who’d thrown suspicion on her brother froze on the tip of her tongue. As she took a step, she remembered Evie and that the little girl had lost her mother in a violent tragedy.

      That Brent had also lost his wife.

      Jill didn’t speak as she headed down the hall like a stealth bomber on a collision course. She knew the way. Over the years, she’d been here often enough. First, with her father, when he’d taught her and Alan how to run the sawmill. But she’d never liked this place, because the forest ranger had the authority to tell her family when and where they could harvest timber for their mill. He was the enemy. At least, that’s what had been ingrained in Jill since birth. Rangers and loggers were not friends. Not ever. It was that simple.

      Then, after Dad had died, she’d helped with the transition at the mill, until Alan took it over. But she’d never had plans to return. She should be with her husband right now. Happy and in love. Planning a family of her own. Instead, she felt disillusioned and cynical. At first, she’d blamed her failed marriage on herself. She’d been so busy with her education and then work. When she’d learned David had been cheating on her for years, she couldn’t help wondering why her husband hadn’t wanted her. If David had loved her, she would have tried to make it work. But he didn’t, and they’d divorced three months before her father died.

      The sound of a phone ringing and the click of someone typing in СКАЧАТЬ