Àëåêñåé Íàñò. Çàáàâêè äëÿ ìàëûøåé. «ÁÇÛÊ». Îòäûõàë â äåðåâíå ÿ. Ðàññêàçàëè ìíå äðóçüÿ, Òî, ÷òî ñëåïåíü – ýòî ÁÇÛÊ! Ýòîò ÁÇÛÊ Óêóñèë ìåíÿ â ÿçûê! : : : : «Ëÿãóøêà è êîìàð» Áîëîòíàÿ ëÿãóøêà Îõîòèëàñü ñ óòðà, Òîëñòóøêà-ïîïðûãóøêà Ëîâèëà êîìàðà. À ìàëåíüêèé ïîñòðåë Èñêóñàë êâàêóøêó, È ñûòûé óëåòåë… : : : :

The Forest Ranger's Return

The Forest Ranger's Return Leigh Bale The Soldier's Second ChanceAfter being injured in Afghanistan, former soldier Dal Savatch thought he’d lost everything. But working on a horse ranch for disabled children teaches him to appreciate the life he still has. When the new forest ranger in town turns out to be Dal’s first love, his tranquil world is turned upside down. For years, Julie Granger’s been carrying a painful secret that’s prevented her from having what she wants most: a family. Reuniting with Dal has her suddenly believing in dreams she thought were long buried.Can two wounded souls find healing and happiness in a future together? The Soldier’s Second Chance After being injured in Afghanistan, former soldier Dal Savatch thought he’d lost everything. But working on a horse ranch for disabled children teaches him to appreciate the life he still has. When the new forest ranger in town turns out to be Dal’s first love, his tranquil world is turned upside down. For years, Julie Granger’s been carrying a painful secret that’s prevented her from having what she wants most: a family. Reuniting with Dal has her suddenly believing in dreams she thought were long buried. Can two wounded souls find healing and happiness in a future together? “Don’t you think it’s time we both stop pretending we don’t remember each other?” Dal said. “I’m sorry, Dal. I…I didn’t know what to say. I just didn’t think it mattered anymore.” “Well, it does. And I’ve still got some questions you may not want to answer.” Julie’s mind raced as those old feelings of dread and fear seeped through every pore in her body. “Like what?” “Like why you stopped writing me. And why you wouldn’t return my phone calls. What happened, Julie? You just disappeared off the face of the earth. Why did you abandon me?” Her gaze locked with his. In his eyes, she saw all the anguish she’d caused him. All the pain she herself felt inside. “I never meant to hurt you, Dal. Please believe I didn’t have a choice. Not really.” “No choice?” His voice escalated, betraying his anger. “You stopped all communication with me. Without any justification at all. Why?” “I had my reasons. That’s all I can say.” How could she tell him the truth? LEIGH BALE is an award-winning, multi-published novelist who won the prestigious RWA Golden Heart in 2006. More recently, she was a finalist for the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence. She is the daughter of a retired U.S. forest ranger, holds a B.A. in History with honors and loves grandkids, spending time with family, weeding the garden with her dog Sophie, and watching the little sagebrush lizards that live in her rock flowerbeds. Married in 1981 to the love of her life, Leigh and her professor husband now have two wonderful children and two grandchildren. But life has not always been rosy. In 1996, Leigh’s seven-year-old daughter was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. In the dark years that followed, God never abandoned them. After six surgeries, two hundred and eighty-four stitches, a year of chemo and a myriad of other difficulties, Leigh’s daughter is now a grown woman and considered one of the less-than-one-percent survivorship in the world for her type of tumor. Life is good! Truly the Lord has blessed Leigh’s family. She now transfers the love and faith she’s known into the characters of her stories. Readers who have their own trials can find respite within the uplifting message of Leigh’s books. You can reach Leigh at P.O. Box 61381, Reno, Nevada 89506, or visit her website at www.leighbale.com (http://www.leighbale.com). The Forest Ranger’s Return Leigh Bale www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) For the Son of man is not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them. —Luke 9:56 This book is dedicated to my Aunt Joan. Boy, do I ever love you, babe! And thanks again to Sara Goldberg, a prosthetist with Hanger Clinic. This is the second book where your knowledge and expertise has helped me immensely. Also, many thanks to Barbara Chastain (Center for Adaptive Riding, Reno, Nevada), Carrie Davis (Empowering Amputees), Alyssa Gale (Camp Riley), Edward Hicks (Adventure Camp), Chris Platt, and Beverly Skaggs (Hanger Clinic). Each of these wonderful people provided me with details big and small on how to run a camp for amputee kids and how to deal with a prosthesis. The world is a much better place because we have folks like you. I apologize profusely for any errors in this book. They are mine alone. Contents Chapter One (#uee7a5993-d555-5f69-b48a-08ca3707bcc8) Chapter Two (#ue0079869-14af-5bd3-9469-bdf28d6f8931) Chapter Three (#ud8d613b0-56a0-5bde-8847-07592f423a2b) Chapter Four (#ucb84495b-974f-5237-b968-97363c99e2c0) Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo) Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo) Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo) Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo) Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter One Dallin Savatch breathed deep of the cool morning air. Stepping off the wraparound porch at Sunrise Ranch, he glanced at the damp dirt road surrounded by fields of newly sprouting alfalfa. Dark shadows clung to the jagged peaks of the McClellan Mountains, a hint of sunlight brightening the eastern sky. All was quiet; no one else was up yet. A whispering breeze carried the tangy scent of sage, horses and rain. Though the May weather had been unseasonably warm, a spring storm had struck in the middle of the night, awakening Dal with a clap of thunder. His left leg ached and he wasn’t able to get back to sleep. Phantom pain, his doctor called it. That didn’t prevent him from taking his morning run. Even at age thirty-six, nothing kept him from exercising his legs. He feared the wheelchair and losing his independence too much. Feared becoming less of a man than he already was. He walked across the graveled driveway, then leaned against the hitching rail next to the barn. Wrapping his fingers around the coarse wood, he stretched his body for several minutes. The exercise warmed up his stiff muscles and relaxed the tight tendons. Magpie, a gentle gray mare who didn’t mind little kids tugging on her mane, stood inside the corral. She lifted her head over the rail fence and snuffled at him. “Sorry, girl. No sugar cubes this early in the morning.” Dal rubbed her between the ears. Then he turned and jogged toward the main road, picking up speed as he headed toward town, five miles away. He settled into an easy rhythm, his body moving well. Arms pumping. Blood pounding against his temples. Inhaling oxygen into his lungs. He got his second wind just as he passed the turnoff to Secret Valley. His first-mile marker, where the graveled road turned into asphalt. His breathing came in even exhales. He was moving strong. Feeling invincible. But he knew from experience that was an illusion. Life was fragile, the human body easily broken. He reached the main road, the sole of his running shoe pounding against the pavement. Another two miles and he’d turn back toward home. A rivulet of sweat tickled between his shoulder blades. He liked this quiet time when he jogged six miles before most people even started their day. He liked being alone to think about the work he had ahead of him back at the ranch. Horses to feed, stalls to muck out, bridles to repair, wild mustangs to train. Running not only cleared his head but also kept him in excellent condition. Something he valued more than anything else, except his relationship with God. His gaze skimmed the fertile fields. A thin creek wound its lazy path through the valley and widened as it ran parallel to the road. Not once had he regretted his decision to move to Stokely, Nevada, the small ranching town where Cade Baldwin, his best friend, had settled and started a family of his own. Though Dal frequently felt like an intruder, the Baldwins were the closest thing to a family he would ever have, and he loved them dearly. He focused on the terrain in front of him. Through the thick cluster of cattails, he caught a glimpse of Black Angus cattle nestled among the green pasture, chewing their cud. Soon they’d be up foraging for grass. And then he spied a woman. Running toward him through the field on the opposite side of the stream. Through the tall willows, he could just make out the top half of her white jogging shirt and blue shorts. She pumped her bare arms hard as she ran. Sunlight gleamed against her long chestnut ponytail. Even from this distance, Dal caught the unwavering glint in her eyes. The lock-jawed determination to push herself hard. Obviously a morning runner like him. She glanced his way and waved. He lifted his hand in a halfhearted acknowledgment. Ever since he’d returned from the war in Afghanistan, he’d avoided women. His fianc?e had broken off their engagement, and he couldn’t really blame her. He no longer had much to offer a woman. “Oww!” The stranger crumpled to the ground, disappearing from view. Dal’s mouth dropped open in surprise. She’d gone down! Maybe needed his help. Leaving the road, he stepped down the graveled incline. He found a narrow spot in the creek where he could cross without wading through the muddy water. Gripping branches of willows, he pulled himself up the embankment. As he trotted toward the spot where he’d seen her fall, he called out, “You okay, ma’am?” A thin wail came from the tall meadow grass. He found her lying on her side as she clutched her right ankle tight against her chest. She clenched her eyes closed and bit her bottom lip, fighting off a spasm of pain. “Hey, you all right?” He stooped over her, giving her time to catch her breath. Hoping it wasn’t serious. She jerked her head around and gasped in surprise. “You... You’re...” She didn’t finish her sentence, her gaze lowering to his legs. She sucked in a harsh breath, no doubt caught off guard by his prosthesis and the absence of his left leg. He got this a lot, though he never got used to it. It was an automatic response for people to stare at his legs, but he hated it with every fiber of his being. Correction. One leg. He was an amputee above his left knee. This morning, he wore his black J-shaped running prosthesis made out of flexible carbon fibers. He wore a regular C-Leg prosthesis for walking, but he loved and wore the J-Leg whenever he could. To the point that his handicap was no longer a handicap. Not if you considered the two gold medals he’d won in the Paralympics years earlier. He braced himself as her gaze surfed past his running shorts to his good leg, a long, muscular limb dusted by a smattering of dark hair. He ignored her wince of sympathy. “I... Yes, I’m fine. The pain is subsiding,” she said. As she pushed herself into a sitting position, he studied her face. Something familiar about her tugged at his memory. The tilt of her head. The shape of her chin and the warm, golden color of her eyes. And then recognition struck him like a jolt of electricity. In spite of the two decades that had passed, he knew her. Julie Granger. A man just didn’t forget the first girl he ever kissed. She made a pretense of brushing dirt off her arms and knees. Staring at the ground. Staring at the trees. Staring anywhere but at him. Didn’t she recognize him, too? Maybe she was so distracted by his legs that she hadn’t taken a good enough look at his face. After all these years, he should be used to this by now. But he wasn’t. Though he felt grateful to be able to walk and run again, the war had taken almost everything from him. His leg. His fianc?e. And almost his self-respect. She peeled back the cuff of her white sock and rubbed her ankle. The movement commanded his gaze. Nice, trim ankles and shapely calves. He was still a man after all, and could appreciate a pair of pretty legs. “May I?” He reached out a hand and she nodded. He pressed his fingers gently against her bones, testing the structure for damage. Bloody abrasions scuffed her smooth skin, but he didn’t have access to a first-aid kit right then. A battery of questions bludgeoned his mind. Where had she been all these years? How had life treated her? Was she married with a passel of kids? And why had she abandoned him so long ago? “Nothing broken. You’ve probably just got a nasty sprain,” he said. Bracing her hands behind her, she leaned back and looked at him with a mix of dread and amazement. But not a smidgeon of recognition. His heart rate ratcheted up several notches, and he felt suddenly protective of her. Just like the night her parents were killed. Only now he wasn’t a young, powerless kid who couldn’t stop Social Services from taking her away. She shook her head with disgust. “This was so stupid of me. I took my eyes off my path and stepped in that hole over there.” She pointed at a rather deep gopher hole camouflaged by clumps of bleached grass. “It’s probably not good to run in the fields. They’re very bumpy and hard on the legs,” he said. He wanted to tell her who he was, but something held him back. Something he didn’t understand. Of all the people in the world, he hated for Julie to see him like this. One legged. No longer whole. But she’d turned her back on him long ago, and his situation would probably be of little importance to her now. “How’d you lose your leg?” she asked. He blinked, taken aback by her blunt question. But Julie had always been like that. Never mean or cruel. She’d just spoken her mind. At least until she’d disappeared from his life. As if realizing her mistake, her face flushed. “I’m sorry. That was rude. It’s none of my business.” “No, it’s okay. Most people pretend they don’t notice my missing leg. I lost it in Afghanistan.” But her candor still surprised him. A lot. And very few people surprised him these days. “You’re in the military?” She sat forward again, looking interested. “Not anymore. I’m a marine.” He tightened his mouth, not wanting to disclose too much about himself. To anyone. Especially a girl he’d loved when he was fifteen years old and too young to know anything about the world. “Ah, well, thank you for your service to our country. And I’m so sorry for your loss.” He caught the tone of sincerity in her soft voice. No pity, just gratitude. She braced herself to stand, and he reached out an arm. “Here, let me help you.” She eyed him, looking skeptical. Then, without a word, she accepted his offer, sliding her fingers against his. Trusting him. The warmth of her soft skin zinged through his arm. He tightened his grip and pulled her up, then let her go and stepped back. “You think you can walk? Or should I call someone for you? A husband, maybe...?” “No, I’ve never been married,” she said. Alone, just like him. Surely he imagined the subtle throb of regret in her voice. And yet, a single man of his age was probably more sensitive to other people in the same predicament. But he was still amazed that she didn’t seem to remember him. “I’ll get my truck and drive you home,” he offered. She glanced at his amputated leg again, as though assessing his abilities. He knew what she was thinking. They were out in the middle of nowhere. How could he get his truck and drive her home with only one leg? He jabbed a thumb toward the vicinity of Sunrise Ranch, which was now shrouded behind an edge of mountains. “I don’t live far from here. You’d only have to wait a few minutes.” His gaze skimmed past the white stripe along her blue runner’s shorts to her scratched knees. A streak of dirt marred the edge of her chin, and he longed to brush it away. To touch her and make sure she was real. He hated being perceived as weak, especially by a girl from his past. Correction. Woman. She wasn’t a child anymore. And neither was he. “Um, no. I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I can walk home.” She applied slight pressure to her ankle, testing to see if it could bear her weight. As she took a few limping steps, her face immediately contorted with pain. He knew she couldn’t walk home. Not like this. “It’s three miles into town. You’re gonna have to let me help you. Don’t worry, it’s what I do.” He forced a smile. Her beautiful eyes locked with his, filled with doubt. “What do you do?” “I help people. I always have.” But he hadn’t been able to help her twenty years ago. In so many words, he’d asked her to trust him. Again. And yet, he’d failed her once. He’d been too young to stop her from being taken away. To protect her from being hurt by people she didn’t even know. But now he was a grown man. Things were different. Being a protector was in his blood. It was what had driven him to become a U.S. Marine. What had driven him to save Cade Baldwin’s life in Afghanistan. And what drove him now to train horses and work with amputee kids. Because they needed him. And it felt good to be needed. “Okay, thank you.” And then she smiled. A stunning reminder of who she was. The expression lit up her entire face, curved her generous lips and crinkled the slim bridge of her nose. If he’d had any doubts before, he lost them now. This was Julie Granger. His first love. He took a deep breath, then thrust his hand out in greeting. “I’m Dallin Savatch. Most people call me Dal.” He watched her face carefully, waiting for recognition to fill her eyes. Nothing. Not even a glimmer. Instead, she dragged her gaze down to his fingers. As though hesitant to touch him. He waited for her shiver of disgust. He’d seen it before, time and time again, with other people who couldn’t get past his missing leg. But that shiver didn’t come. Not this time. She clasped his fingers tight and shook his hand. “My name is Julie Granger. I’m sorry to inconvenience you like this, but I really appreciate it.” So. She didn’t know him. And he couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. How could she forget him so easily? Was her memory lapse selective or real? He decided to let it pass. To pretend he hadn’t been hurt when she’d stopped answering his letters and returning his phone calls. He’d tried to tell himself she’d been nothing more than a high school crush, but that never stuck. He’d loved her deeply, but she no longer felt the same. “No problem.” He let go a bit too fast. Trying to put some distance between them. Trying not to feel angry by her presence. He wished she weren’t so lovely. A woman who obviously liked running as much as he did. If that were possible. “Why don’t you sit over here while I hurry home and get my truck? Then I can drive you into town to Cade’s office.” He pointed at a soft grassy knoll at the side of the road beneath the spreading limbs of a tall cottonwood. “Cade?” Her knees visibly wobbled as she took a step toward the inviting spot. He reached for her arm, and she didn’t refuse. “Cade Baldwin. My partner. He’s the doctor in town.” “A doctor won’t be necessary,” she said. “Are you a doctor, too?” “No, no. Cade’s the doctor. We were in the Marine Corps together. Now we’re partners out at Sunrise Ranch. We pooled our resources and work together there. I mostly just handle the horses.” He’d always been a horseman, even when they were kids and his widowed mom had worked as a cook on a ranch in Oklahoma. He expected Julie’s doubtful stare directed toward his prosthesis, but she didn’t even flinch. Most amputees didn’t train horses, much less wild mustangs. But he did. And he was good at it, too. He refused to let his missing limb get in the way of his work. The horses didn’t judge him. They didn’t care if he only had one leg. And when he was with them, he could forget the disability he’d worked so hard to overcome. The way Julie had forgotten him. One of her brows arched upward in recognition. “Ah! You’re from the horse camp for amputee kids I’ve been hearing about. I believe the previous forest ranger married the owner.” He nodded, surprised that she knew so much about them. “That’s right. In fact, the horse camp was the ranger’s idea. Cade’s in charge of physical therapy and special programs for the kids. His wife, Lyn, pays the bills, coordinates the meals, takes care of her two children and everything else. Of course, we have other staff who work at the place, too.” “It sounds amazing,” she agreed. “I’ve heard a lot about Lyn Baldwin since I got into town. I’m not surprised she retired as the forest ranger once she had her second child. No doubt she has plenty to keep her busy out at your ranch.” “She is amazing, but why have you heard about her?” “I’m the new forest ranger.” Dawning flooded Dal’s dazed brain. Lyn had told him a new ranger was coming in last week, but he’d expected a man, not Julie. Not a girl he’d never forgotten in all these long, painful years. “I just moved here last week,” she continued. “I’m hoping to visit Lyn soon, to see if she can bring me up to speed on several issues I’ll be dealing with.” He nodded and released her hand as she sat down. Currents of energy zigzagged up his arm, reaching clear to his shoulder blade. He rubbed his biceps, hoping the feeling would ease soon. It didn’t. “I’m sure Lyn would be glad to help you out,” he said. “Just give her a call. Now, you wait right here and I’ll go get my truck.” Without another word, he whirled around and dashed away, moving swiftly over the dirt road. Eager to get away from Julie’s observant gaze. He ran with no limp whatsoever. An amazing task, considering the rocky surface he’d chosen to jog on. But he’d gotten used to it, navigating the uneven fields and even hiking in the mountains like a man with two normal legs. He had a prosthesis for almost every activity, and that made his way of life possible. And in that moment, Dal wished things could be different somehow. He’d paid a high price to save Cade’s life in Afghanistan, and he’d gladly pay it again. He just wished he could have kept both his legs in the process. But Dal had long ago reconciled himself to the fact that life would never be the same. Not for him and Julie. Not ever again. * * * Julie stared at the tall man’s broad shoulders as he hopped across the stream and returned to the main road. Her breath stuttered as she watched him move as gracefully as a man with two solid legs. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she never would have believed Dal Savatch was an amputee. She never should have decided to jog in the grassy fields, but she’d wanted to see what kinds of vegetation grew along the creek bed. To see what kinds of fish swam in the stream. And to assess if the area was being overgrazed. As the new forest ranger, it was her job. She’d been concentrating on her task when she’d looked up at the road paralleling the creek and seen the most handsome man running toward her. Through the thick branches of willows, she’d caught glimpses of his rugged face. The blunt shape of his jaw. The determined lines carved around his mouth. The muscular torso and strong arms moving with his fast stride. Dal Savatch. The love of her life. Or, at least, that was what she’d thought when she was fifteen. Before her parents had been killed in a horrible car crash. Before she’d been yanked out of her home and slapped into foster care. When the vegetation had given way, she’d seen Dal’s legs. The curving prosthesis he wore where his left leg should have been. An amputee, running smooth and fast along a dirt road that even challenged Julie’s experienced stride. Before she could catch herself, she’d stepped in a hole and gone down. Road rash never hurt as much as it did when someone else witnessed your fall. Her shocked attention had been on the man, not the rough terrain in front of her. Now she felt like a fool. She had twisted her ankle hard and she blinked to clear the sudden tears of pain, highly aware of the man who’d crossed the stream and come to her rescue. Oh, Dal. What he must have suffered in losing his leg. It hurt her to see him like this. To think of the pain he must have gone through. She wasn’t surprised he’d overcome such adversity. Dal never was a quitter. Never gave up on anything he wanted. Never stopped writing or calling her, until she’d moved so often his letters could no longer find her. Julie groaned, conscious of the rings of sweat on her jogging shirt. Reaching up, she patted her damp hair and regretted not putting on any makeup that morning. Dal had just gotten a good look at her, but he didn’t recognize her. Didn’t remember the sweet kiss they’d shared on the front porch of her childhood home the very night her parents had died. Oh, well. Maybe it was for the best. At the age of thirty-five, Julie had long ago given up on marriage and family. She was what her last foster mom had called an old maid. But she couldn’t help that she loved her career and liked being alone. Most of the time. Having lost her parents, she’d decided not to regret what she’d never really known. And yet, there were times when she’d seen other women in the grocery store, pushing their kids around in shopping carts. Hugging their husbands. Their laughter ringing through the air. And then a pang of regret would rip through Julie’s heart, reminding her of what she’d never have for her very own. A family. Someone who loved and needed her. Someone who cared if she lived or died. She settled her back against the strong tree trunk and waited for Dal. The throbbing in her ankle had eased by the time the sound of an engine filled the air. She wrenched her head around. An old blue pickup truck rumbled down the dirt road, heading toward her. Dal sat in the driver’s seat wearing a battered cowboy hat. He looked her way, a worried frown tugging at his handsome mouth and brows. Worried for her? He pulled the truck over and stepped out. A graceful movement that left her impressed by his mastery of the prosthesis. An embarrassing reminder that she was the one needing his assistance, not the other way around. He rushed over to help her stand. Glancing up, her gaze locked with his. His features hadn’t changed much since they were kids, but he’d grown taller and filled out in the shoulders, chest and arms. As she stared into his hazel eyes, several pounding moments followed when he let down his guard. And in those few seconds, she read a lot in those brown-green depths. She saw the hurt he kept locked inside. The solemn sadness. The uncertainty. But no recognition. Then his eyes clouded over. A guarded look that told her he’d do the right thing no matter what, but he was scared. Of her. A foolish notion, surely. She was imagining things. As he helped her hobble over to the passenger side of his truck, she tried not to lean against his solid warmth. Tried not to add any extra burden to his missing leg. “I’m strong. You can lean on me.” He spoke low, his gentle tone encouraging her to trust him. She almost breathed a huge sigh of relief. For so long, she’d depended on no one but herself. She’d wanted to stay close to Dal, but with her orphaned status, her life had spiraled out of her control. Their separation was for the best. She should act normal around this anything-but-normal man. After all, she didn’t know him anymore. They were basically strangers. But in her mind, she couldn’t help thinking that she’d never met another man like him, with or without legs. Pulling the door open, he helped her inside and waited patiently while she snapped on her seat belt. Her skin still tingled where he’d touched her arms. His gaze lowered to her ankle and his expression softened. “It doesn’t look too swollen.” “No, it’ll be fine.” And she knew the words were true. If Dal could recover from losing a leg, then she could surely survive a wrenched ankle. He closed the door and went around to the driver’s side. The cab of the truck smelled of peppermint. An old vehicle with a leather bench seat. A classic truck that must be at least fifty years old. She couldn’t help wondering about his life and the man he’d become. Did he still like pistachio ice cream? Was he still a whiz at calculus? Was he married with kids of his own? She longed to ask, but didn’t dare. Guilt nibbled at her conscience for the anguish she must have caused when she’d stopped writing to him. It was better to forget. She watched with detached interest as he got in and started the engine. He shifted the gears and drove slow and steady over the dirt road leading into town. “Nice truck,” she said. “Thanks.” “What year?” “Nineteen-sixty. I rebuilt the engine myself. It’s therapeutic.” “I really appreciate your help,” she said, feeling out of place. Feeling as if she should remind him of who she was. But what good would that do? Chatting about a past she’d rather forget wouldn’t be much fun. Above all else, she didn’t want his pity. She just wanted to forget what she’d been through. “How long have you been running?” he asked, staring straight ahead as he used his right foot to press the gas and brake pedals, as needed. “Since I was fifteen, when my parents died and I went into foster care.” She hadn’t meant to give him such a big reminder. The words had just slipped out before she could call them back. But this disconcerting man had caught her off guard. She couldn’t help wondering if the clues would remind him of who she was. She didn’t want to talk about her life, a habit she’d acquired over the years to protect herself from being hurt again. With good reason. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “How about you? When did you start running?” “I guess I’ve always been a runner,” he said. “First in high school when I played football and ran track, then as a marine. When I returned from the war, I ran to rehabilitate myself. To keep myself independent and out of a wheelchair.” He clamped his mouth shut, as though he also regretted confiding so much. Obviously she wasn’t the only one with a painful past. “I can understand your desire for independence,” she said. “I heard about a 5K race they’re holding here in the valley the latter part of August and thought I’d participate, as long as my ankle doesn’t stop me. A race motivates me to get up early and run every morning. It also keeps me in shape in case I’m called out on a wildfire this summer.” He glanced her way, his brown-green eyes skimming over her bare calves and running shoes. “Yeah, I’ve already entered that race myself.” “Is that right? I can’t say I’m surprised.” Tilting her head, she chuckled. They still had things in common, but the reasons why they both ran intrigued her more than the running itself. Because, truth be told, Julie ran for the isolation of it. The solitude and healing. She’d been by herself so long that she didn’t know anything else. And she’d never met a person she thought might fully understand her deeply buried motives. Until now. “Who are you running for?” she asked. Or from? That was what she really wanted to know. He tilted his head in question. “What do you mean?” “Who’s your sponsor?” “Ah! Sunrise Ranch, of course. The amputee kids.” “Of course.” “And who’s your sponsor?” he asked. She shrugged. “I don’t have one yet. I could use the Forest Service, but that might be viewed as a conflict of interest.” “Why?” “Some people might not like the idea of a government agency sponsoring the new forest ranger. Some folks get touchy about things like that.” “Well, they shouldn’t.” “I agree.” Within minutes, he pulled into the driveway of her white Forest Service house, located two blocks north of Main Street. From what her new range assistant had told her, Lyn Baldwin had lived here with her amputee daughter until she’d married Cade Baldwin and moved out to Sunrise Ranch. Julie hadn’t needed to give Dal directions to her house. Not surprising in such a small town. Throughout her career, she’d been transferred quite a bit and had worked hard for this promotion as a forest ranger. Now she hoped to put down roots. She might never be a wife and mother, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t become involved in her community. A town that included Dal Savatch. As he helped her amble up the path to her front porch, she noticed that the pain in her ankle was almost gone. Thank goodness. She had a full day of work ahead of her. With starting a brand-new job, she didn’t need a throbbing ankle to keep her from perusing all the timber and watershed reports sitting on her desk. Dal took her key from her hand and inserted it in the lock. He opened the door, pushing it wide. He didn’t come inside, but hesitated until she turned to face him. And then she realized that several minutes had passed in which she’d forgotten he was an amputee. She’d been so engrossed in her own discomfort that she hadn’t noticed how he’d helped her up the front steps. Somehow, this man made her forget he was handicapped. A flood of memories from her childhood surged through her mind. Dal pushing her on the tire swing in her backyard. Helping her move sprinkler pipes in her father’s cornfield. Sitting with his arm around her shoulders as they rode the school bus each morning. In her mind, she couldn’t think of him as anything but confident, whole and in control. “You gonna be okay?” he asked. “Yes, thanks for everything. I really appreciate it.” He lifted one strong hand and rested it against the threshold, his brows crinkled with thought. “Maybe once your leg is feeling better, we could run together. In the mornings. To prepare for the race. It might be safer if you have a running partner.” His face flushed and he stepped back. She realized that he was embarrassed by the offer. Maybe he even regretted it. She hesitated, liking this idea. And why not? Dal Savatch was nice enough. She didn’t have any friends in town. Not yet. Maybe spending time with this man from her past might help alleviate the hollow loneliness that had taken up residence within her heart. “I’d like that very much,” she said. Then she thought better of it. Dal Savatch was too likable. Too easy to talk to. Renewing their relationship could backfire on her. And then what? “I’ll see you later.” He hurried down the steps, as though he wanted to escape. Before she could change her mind. As he strode gracefully back to his truck, she stared at his wide shoulders. No second thoughts. Not now. Without another word, she went inside and closed the door. An empty void settled inside her chest. As she hobbled down the hallway to her bedroom, she knew she’d be late getting in to work that morning. She also knew she’d see Dal Savatch again sometime soon. Perhaps tomorrow morning. Or the next. And somehow that was okay for now. It had taken years for her to process her grief. Her psychologist had taught her not to think about the past or worry about the future. And she wouldn’t. Because she and Dal Savatch could never be anything more than friends. Chapter Two Julie didn’t go running the next day. Or the next. Dal knew, because he watched for her. She must be home resting her ankle. But after three more days and no sign of her, he started to worry. He couldn’t help himself. And he didn’t like that. Because worrying led to caring, which led to heartbreak. Julie Granger meant nothing to him. Just a blast from his past. He barely knew her, but that didn’t seem to matter. After all this time, he couldn’t get her off his mind. Her silent rejection from years past still haunted him. A week later, he couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled his old truck into a parking place next to the McClellan National Forest Service office. After killing the engine, he slid the keys from the ignition and thrust the door wide-open. He slipped the keys into one pocket of his faded blue jeans, then swiveled around in his seat, placed both his booted feet on the ground, braced his hands against the frame of the door, got his balance and stood. A swift series of motions no one seemed to notice. But for Dal, each action required concentration if he didn’t want to fall flat on his face. Rotating his left hip forward, he stepped up from the curb. With not a hint of a limp, he walked past the American flag waving in the breeze. Morning sunlight rested on the red tulips and yellow daffodils blooming in the flowerbeds that lined the redbrick building. Within moments, he reached the double glass doors, pushed them open and stood inside the reception room. The aroma of coffee filtered through the air, along with the click of someone typing on a keyboard and a phone ringing down the hall. He hesitated, thinking he shouldn’t be here. Thinking he should have insisted that Cade come instead. But the truth was, Dal wanted to see Julie again. To find out if her ankle had healed. To go jogging with her. To catch up on her life. He tried to tell himself this visit was all about business. To develop a horse trail and campsite for amputee kids out at Sunrise Ranch. And yet, he knew it was something more. Something he didn’t understand. He also knew that being near Julie might put him on a one-way collision course to heartache. He could never fall in love again. Never marry. Never have a family of his own. The secret he kept hidden deep inside his soul wouldn’t allow him to pretend. So why was he here? He still wasn’t quite sure. And that thought caused him to turn and reach for the door handle. Ready to leave. Ready to run away. “Hi, Dal. Can I help you?” Shauna Cline, the receptionist, greeted him. A woman of perhaps fifty years, her red cheeks plumped with her smile. He nodded politely. “Hi, Shauna. I... I’m here to see the new forest ranger, if she’s available.” “Do you have an appointment?” Dal shook his head. “Nope, sorry.” He’d never needed an appointment to visit Lyn Baldwin when she’d been the forest ranger here. But after marrying Dal’s best friend and having two children, Lyn had retired to become a full-time mom six months earlier. Maybe Julie was a bit stuffier, but he doubted it. Not from what he remembered about her. Julie Granger had always been laid-back and easygoing. Anything but conventional. But that was before her folks had died. She could have changed. Life had a funny way of doing that to people. “Excuse me one moment, and I’ll see if she’s free.” Shauna stepped around the counter and bustled down the hall. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Dal noted the time. He thumbed through a pamphlet on preventing forest fires. He didn’t sit down, and he didn’t have to wait long. “Dal! This is a pleasant surprise.” Julie greeted him with a tight smile and stiff shoulders. In her eyes, he saw a hesitancy that told him his visit was anything but pleasing to her. “How’s your ankle?” Dal shook her hand, his gaze swishing over her spruce-green pants and the bronze shield pinned just above the left front pocket of her drab olive-color Forest Service shirt. A drastic change from the running shorts and shoes she’d been wearing last week. The uniform seemed odd to Dal. He had to remind himself that she was a professional woman, and the tables had turned on him. He now needed her help. “Fine. I just started running again yesterday morning.” And he’d missed her somehow. Maybe that was a good thing. “I’m glad to hear it.” He glanced at Shauna, who sat at her desk watching them with attentive gray eyes. “Um, I’m here in an official capacity. I have a business proposal I’d like to discuss, if you have the time.” “Sure! Come on back.” She spun around and headed down the hallway, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he followed. He did, trying not to stare at the gentle swing of her hips. He couldn’t get over the graceful change in her. What a shame life had cheated them out of growing up together, going to college and possibly marrying. If her parents hadn’t died, he might not have gone to war. He wouldn’t have been there to save Cade Baldwin’s life, and he wouldn’t have lost his leg. What kind of man might he have become if Julie hadn’t been yanked out of his life? It did no good to think about it, but he couldn’t help wondering. Her office wasn’t overly large, but included an alcove where a wide mahogany conference table sat surrounded by six tall-backed chairs. Stacks of reports rested in tidy piles along the edge of her desk. He gazed at a picture of two desert bighorn sheep hanging on one wall and a mule deer standing beside a mountain stream on the other. She obviously still loved the outdoors, just as he did. She rounded the desk. “Please, have a seat.” He sat opposite her, conscious of her watching him. Glad the desk provided a barrier between them. “So what can I do for you?” Her chair creaked as she sat back and crossed her legs. He cleared his throat. “There’s an old mountain trail just south of Sunrise Ranch. It comes out on the other side along Lake McClellan. I don’t know of many people who use it except me. We’d like to develop the trail a bit more and even put a campsite at the top of the mountain where it overlooks the lake.” “You want to alter a trail that already exists?” she clarified. He nodded, wishing he’d asked Cade to come and make this request instead. He longed to blurt out the truth to Julie. That he knew her, had never forgotten her and wished he could tell her his darkest, most hurtful secret of all. “Yes, we want to take some of our amputee kids up there on horses for an overnight camping experience.” Without a word, she stood and reached for a round canister sitting behind the door. Opening it, she unrolled a large map of the area and spread it across the conference table. She waved for him to join her. “Can you show me exactly where the trail is located?” He stood and walked to her side. Her gaze dipped to his legs, but he knew she saw nothing of his prosthesis beneath the cover of his blue jeans and scuffed cowboy boots. She bent over the table, her hands smoothing the map before she pointed at a small red star. “This is where we are in town.” She skimmed her index finger over the map toward the east. “And this is Sunrise Ranch. Here’s Lake McClellan. Where’s this trail you want to develop?” He leaned closer to inspect the map. Bold green numbers indicated the locations of Forest Service trails and campsites in the area. A legend at the bottom of the map named each trail. He recognized several, but it took him a moment to find the isolated one he sought. He couldn’t concentrate. The citrus fragrance of Julie’s shampoo distracted him and he blinked several times, trying to focus. “Right here.” He traced a thin line rising over a mountain peak and skirting the northeastern side of the lake. She peered at the spot. “Number eighteen. Gilway Trail.” “Gilway,” he repeated. “Probably the name of the person credited with finding the path.” Without explanation, she stepped over to the wall and yanked open the drawer of a metal cabinet. Her long fingers skimmed the lips of manila folders before she pulled one file out and laid it open on the table. A rustle of papers followed as she flipped through the pages, her eyes narrowing as she skimmed several paragraphs of various reports. Dal watched in fascination, impressed by her obvious interest in the topic. Finally, she stood back and smiled wide. “Gilway has been around for ages. No one really knows when it originated. Probably used by the Indians as an old hunting trail before the white man even lived in this area. It’s already zoned for hikers and pedestrians. Semiprimitive nonmotorized.” “Nonmotorized?” “Yep. That means no snowmobiles, motorbikes, cars, trucks or engines of any kind. Except chain saws, of course. In case we need to fight a wildfire up there.” Good. He liked that. “What about horses?” “Horses are okay.” A feeling of relief swept over him. He’d ridden that trail many times and didn’t want to get in trouble for taking a horse up there. “No campsite presently exists at the top,” Julie continued. “Just the trail. As far as I can tell, it’s been recently used by an occasional hunter and the Back Country Horsemen. Beautiful scenic views. Very close to your ranch. You’ve chosen wisely.” “Yeah, I knew the first time I went up there that it was a therapeutic place to take amputee kids.” “How often do you plan to use the trail and campsite?” she asked. “Maybe seven nights total throughout the months of July and August, not including the times I ride up there on my own.” “And you just want a camping experience for the kids?” “Yes, to help them build a feeling of independence and self-esteem. We have horseback riding for all the children back at the ranch, but only those kids who have some experience and confidence riding a horse will be allowed to go on the overnight campout. Above all else, we want to ensure their safety.” She leaned her hip against the edge of the table and folded her arms. “That’s good. How many people will you have going up there at one time?” “Maybe four or five kids and the same number of adults each time.” “With a horse for every person?” He nodded. “And several pack horses, too.” “That sounds okay, but keep in mind that crowding can reduce the quality of your experience up there. You won’t want to overdo it.” “We’ll keep that in mind. So what comes next?” She stepped back from the table. “The first thing I need to do is take a ride with you to see the layout of the trail and find out if it’s even possible for us to develop a campsite up there.” “A ride? With me?” His voice sounded a bit strained to his own ears. Did he look as nervous as he felt? “Yes, if possible. Then you can show me exactly what you have in mind. I can take my Forest Service horse. Do you have a horse you can ride?” His heart gave a funny leap of excitement. The thought of spending time up on the mountain with this interesting woman brought him a feeling of anticipation he couldn’t deny. “Yeah, I can do that.” “Good. What if I drive out to your place with my horse next week on Friday morning, about nine o’clock? I suspect our work will take the better part of the day, so we should pack lunches and plenty of water.” “That sounds fine to me.” “After I’ve inspected the area, I’ll need to perform an environmental assessment on the proposal.” “What’s an environmental assessment?” he asked. “It’s where I look at the work we need to do in altering the trail. The potential for erosion, the possible impact on the public and wildlife, the impact if we alter any vegetation and the scenery. Stuff like that. Before we build a campsite, I’ll need to also advertise this development in the newspaper and hold a public meeting for anyone who cares to attend.” He frowned, thinking this sounded logical, but worried about what it might mean for the project. “Do we have to hold an open meeting?” “Yes, why?” “Some local ranchers may not like this idea. They can be rather difficult at times.” She shrugged. “Then I’ll listen to what they have to say. It’s my job to respond to any legitimate concerns people might have. At this point, I don’t see any problems. But you never know what might crop up.” “How long will all of this take?” “Normally the entire process takes about two years.” His heart plummeted. “I was hoping to get everything ready so we can use the campsite by next summer.” The corners of her mouth creased in a smile. The expression lit up her entire face and made her soft brown eyes sparkle. Wow, she was pretty. “Since this is for such a good cause, I think we can expedite the process,” she said. A breath of relief filtered through his lungs. “Thanks, Julie. I appreciate your help. More than I can say.” She chuckled. “Thank me later, after I’ve performed the assessment and told you what we can and can’t do.” He frowned. “Should I be worried?” She waved a hand. “Not yet. Let’s wait and see what we’re working with. You can worry later, after we find out what it’s going to cost. Then we’ll have to decide how to get the work done.” He hadn’t thought about expense. “I’ve got access to some manpower, but not a lot of funds.” “That’s okay for now. I’ve got some ideas that should help us out in that area. Once I’ve completed the assessment, I’ll need to issue you a special-use permit. No work can be done on the trail until then. And every phase of work will need to be inspected and approved. Understood?” “Understood.” They spoke for several more minutes, confirming their meeting time and discussing the options. By the time Dal left Julie’s office, he felt confident this trail and campsite would greatly augment the program they offered amputee kids at Sunrise Ranch. He also feared this was a huge mistake. He couldn’t help enjoying being near Julie again. Gone was the little girl he once knew, replaced by an educated, beautiful, confident woman. But escalating his involvement with the ranger might prove deadly to his heart. He’d do it anyway, starting with his morning run. Like a freight train running out of track, he couldn’t stop now. Developing Gilway Trail would benefit the amputee kids, and jogging with Julie would help keep her safe. It would also give him an opportunity to find out about her life. He just hoped he didn’t regret it all later on. * * * Julie sat at her desk and jotted some notes to herself. Trying to focus on work. Trying to stop thinking about the man who had just left her office. Her body trembled. Several times, she’d been ready to blurt out the truth. That she remembered Dal, the plans they’d made and the hopes they’d shared. But that had all been ruined by one of her foster dads. A horrible, smelly man who had stolen her innocence and trust. Focus, Julie. Don’t think about the past. Just move forward. You’re safe now. You don’t need anyone but yourself. She tugged her thoughts back to her work. First thing, she should have Shauna draft an advertisement for an open meeting to put in the local newspaper. She could imagine some of the concerns the local people might have about Dal’s proposed project, and she planned to prepare beforehand. There was plenty of time for that. She’d know more once she viewed the trail with Dal in a few days. Next, she should begin a preliminary environmental assessment and consider the animals that might be impacted by this change. Desert bighorn sheep. Rocky Mountain mule deer. Canadian geese.... She stopped writing, her hands shaking. The pen dropped to the desk. She laced her fingers together in a tight grip. Resting her elbows on top of her yellow lined notepad, she leaned her forehead against her fists and exhaled a tight breath. This is just work. Just a very nice, attractive man you used to know. No need to be upset. It’s just business. She tried to reason with herself. Tried to calm the anxious feelings rumbling around inside her mind. She’d overcome so much in her past and thought she’d learned to deal with men one-on-one. But maybe not. For some reason, Dal Savatch touched on old memories she thought were long buried. He was one of the few men who had tried to protect her from being hurt, even if he had been merely a boy at the time. So why did his presence bother her so intensely? She knew. She didn’t need to ask herself the question. She liked him and longed to confide in him. She wanted to be friends with him again. Maybe more than friends. But she couldn’t. Not now, not ever. So she was upset. Because of the shame and uncertainty of her past, she didn’t know how he might take the truth of what had happened to her. The fear. Pushing her chair back, she stood and slid past her desk to stand in front of the only window in her office. She used her thumb and index finger to widen the slatted blinds and peered outside at the empty parking lot. No sign of Dal’s old pickup truck. Just her compact car and a few other vehicles that belonged to her staff members. Not a single person in sight. Dal was fast, she’d give him that. And light on his feet. For the entire length of their meeting, she’d completely forgotten about his amputation. Until he’d left. And even then, she couldn’t believe how easily he moved. Smooth, graceful and masculine. Like he had no impediment at all. She had nothing to worry about. No need to feel distressed by his presence in her office. And if he finally remembered who she was, she could act surprised and brush it off. For now, she’d focus on her work, help develop the trail and campsite and nothing more. She didn’t expect anything else, and neither did Dal. Or did she? That was just the problem. In spite of her reasoning and resolve, she wanted more. For the first time in twenty years, she wished... No! She didn’t need a man in her life. She didn’t need anyone. She’d done just fine on her own. A solid education, a comfortable home and a challenging career. If she got close to Dal again, he’d want an explanation as to why she’d stopped writing and calling. Her reasons were her own, and she couldn’t talk about them with him. It had taken a gargantuan effort just to discuss her sexual abuse with her psychologist. Telling an old boyfriend about it was impossible. Being by herself was for the best. No complications. No angst. No pain. But maybe that was all wrong. Maybe she should put herself out there with Dal and see what life might bring her way. Maybe... No! She whirled away from the window and returned to her desk. Plopping down into her chair, she picked up the pen, leaned over the desk and forced herself to write. Vegetation impacts. Juniper. Aspen. Willows. Indian paintbrush. Snowberry.... She dropped the pen again and stared at the notepad. Moisture blurred the words in front of her eyes. She dashed the tears away, thinking she was being silly and emotional. Jerking open the top drawer of her desk, she gazed at a picture of her parents. She kept it close by so she could look at them any time she liked. So she wouldn’t forget. But she didn’t leave the picture sitting out on her desk. Not where other people might see and start asking personal questions. Why did Dal have to reenter her life? Why now? Over the years, she’d coped with being on her own. She’d dealt with her insecurities and fears. Hadn’t she? Apparently not. At least not since Dallin Savatch had rushed back into her life. She owed him an explanation. Her unexplained silence hadn’t been fair to him. If he knew the truth, he’d understand. He’d forgive her. But she couldn’t utter the words. Not now. Not ever. Snapping the drawer closed, she reached for her purse. She had to get out of here. Had to clear her head. Her fingers tightened around the straps as she slung the bag over her shoulder and stood. Gathering up a pile of files she’d set aside earlier, she walked to the door. She was a mature, professional woman, not a vulnerable little girl anymore. Dal Savatch needed her help. She could assist him and Sunrise Ranch. That was all. Other than offering to run with her in the mornings, Dal hadn’t suggested anything more. He didn’t even remember her. She was making too much out of this situation. Wasn’t she? Walking down the hallway, she paused at Shauna’s desk long enough to tell the woman she was going home. And tomorrow afternoon, she’d drive out to Sunrise Ranch and visit with Lyn Baldwin. She’d spoken to the former ranger a couple days earlier by phone, and Lyn had told her to stop by anytime. Julie wanted to discuss several projects Lyn had been working on during her time as ranger. Hopefully, Lyn could clarify a few things for Julie. In the process, Julie also hoped she might gain more insight into Dal Savatch. What it was about the man that she still found so appealing. And why she feared becoming friends with him again. Maybe then Julie could finally reconcile herself with the past and get the man off her mind. Then again, maybe not. Chapter Three At 5:33 the next morning, Julie flipped off the kitchen light and stepped out onto her front porch. Hazy sunlight filtered past her neighbors’ dew-laden lawns. She breathed deep of the crisp air and shivered, wondering if she’d need a jacket for her daily jog. She decided no, that her exercise would soon make her hot and the breeze would cool her off. Looking up, she froze. Dal Savatch stood leaning against a tall cottonwood on the opposite side of her white picket fence. Dressed like her in runner’s shoes and shorts, he rested his weight on his good leg. With his arms folded, his large biceps stretched his gray T-shirt tight. Even as a teenager, he’d been well built, with muscles any girl would admire. But the fully grown man he’d become almost made Julie drool. As the screen door clapped closed behind her, he lifted his head. Even from this distance, she could feel his penetrating stare like a physical blow. Lowering his arms, he stepped away from the tree. He paused at the gate, not entering the perimeter of her yard, but waiting for her to come down the front steps and join him. “It’s a bit early for a visit. What are you doing here?” she asked, trying not to sound curt. “Waiting for you. Remember, I promised to run with you.” “You don’t need to do that, Dal. It’s a long distance out of your way.” Yes, she remembered his promise, but she hadn’t expected him to keep it. Not really. “I want to.” He blinked, as though embarrassed by his admission. He reached over and lifted the latch before pushing the gate open for her. “Thanks.” She stepped onto the sidewalk. His gentlemanly manners reminded her of the conscientious boy he’d always been. When other boys had paid their girlfriends little mind, Dal had rushed ahead to open doors for her, had brought her yellow roses from his mother’s flower garden, had said please and thank-you. In high school, Julie had been the envy of every other girl. Because she’d had Dal. “So how long have you been waiting here?” She walked to the tree he’d vacated and braced her hands against the coarse trunk before stretching her calf muscles. Trying to appear unaffected by his presence. “Not long,” he said. “You could have come inside the house.” “No, I didn’t want to intrude until you were ready to go.” But what did he want? And why did his presence unnerve her so much? “How far do you usually run?” She made small talk, avoiding the real questions pounding in her brain. Thank goodness he didn’t remember her and their whispered promises to each other twenty years earlier. Part of her longed for him to recognize her. The part that still cared for him and wished he felt the same. Puppy love, her mom had called it before she’d died. But Julie had never felt anything so real before or since. “I usually run six miles. And you?” Taking a position on the opposite side of the tree, he braced his left hand against the trunk, then bent the knee of his good leg up toward his back and caught the ankle with his right hand. He tugged gently to stretch out his quadriceps. “Usually five miles. I don’t have time for more,” she said. A whoosh of air escaped his lips as he released his leg. “Then we’ll run five today. Do you have some preferred routes you usually take?” She nodded, pressing her left arm across the front of her body and holding it for the count of ten. “I measured the distance with my car’s odometer the first week I arrived in town. Because of my move to Stokely, I wasn’t able to run for a couple of weeks. I was eager to get back to it...and then I hurt my ankle.” “Yeah, I know what you mean. Exercise is addictive. I get antsy whenever I miss a day or two,” he said. So much for small chat. She kept warming up, concentrating on her movements, trying to think of something more intelligent to say. But maybe it was best if they stuck to the trivial stuff. “I told Cade and Lyn about our plans to view Gilway Trail on Friday. They’re excited about this project. So am I,” he said. “Good. Me, too.” And she meant it. The thought of doing something positive to help the amputee kids at Sunrise Ranch gave her a good feeling inside. As if her life’s work meant something important, even though she had no family to share it with. She finished her warm-up routine and stood watching him. “Shall we?” He indicated the black asphalt. With a nod, she stepped off the curb and ran down the side of the street. He followed, keeping pace beside her. At the corner, she looked both ways, then crossed the street and headed outside of town. Her body felt jittery, wanting to run faster than normal. She made a conscious effort to hold to her usual pace. Dal adjusted easily, his steady breathing a comforting sound beside her. They didn’t speak much until they reached the turnoff to Sunrise Ranch. Without breaking stride, Dal pointed toward the mountains on the south side. “That’s the trailhead at Gilway.” “Okay, we’ll take a closer look on Friday.” As they reached the dirt road, she pointed at a yield sign. “This is my two-and-a-half-mile marker. Time for me to turn back.” He nodded and went with her. “You don’t have to return with me, Dal. You’ve probably already gotten in more than six miles today.” “I don’t mind.” He kept running, and she had no choice but to keep up. “You always were so persistent,” she said. He jerked his head toward her, his eyes narrowed slightly. “How would you know that?” Her face heated up like road flares. Without thinking, she’d given herself away. She’d never been much good at pretending and she detested keeping secrets, with good reason. Something she’d been forced to do for eight months when she’d been barely sixteen years old. Until her social worker had figured things out and yanked Julie out of a horrible foster home. But not before her foster dad had hurt her and destroyed her faith in humanity. Dal stopped dead in the middle of the road and lifted his hands to his hips. He looked at her, a mix of anger and relief covering his face. “Don’t you think it’s time we both stop pretending we don’t remember each other?” She released a gasp of air and came to a standstill. “I’m sorry, Dal. I—I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to move on. I just didn’t think it mattered anymore.” “Well, it does. And I’ve still got some questions you may not want to answer.” Her mind raced as she tried to slow her heavy breathing. Those old feelings of dread and fear seeped through every pore in her body. Like a caged and wounded tiger faced by a hunter carrying a loaded rifle. “Like what?” “Like why you stopped writing me. And why you wouldn’t return my phone calls. What happened, Julie? You just disappeared off the face of the earth. Why did you abandon me?” Her gaze clashed, then locked with his. In his eyes, she saw all the anguish she’d caused him. All the pain she herself felt inside. “I never meant to hurt you, Dal. Please believe I didn’t have a choice. Not really.” “No choice?” His voice escalated, betraying his anger. “You cut off all communication with me. Without any justification at all. Why?” “I had my reasons. That’s all I can say.” “You owe me an explanation, Julie. We didn’t even break up.” “I thought it was for the best. We were living in separate towns by then and rarely saw each other.” “But we talked by phone almost every day. Until you stopped taking my calls. Why? Why did you do that?” “I—I didn’t want to talk about it then.” His mouth dropped open and he raked his fingers through his short hair, showing his frustration. “So let’s talk about it now.” She shook her head. “No.” “No?” He sounded hurt and furious at the same time. “Oh, come on, Julie. You can’t ignore me again. I’m here. Flesh and blood. You can’t hide from me anymore.” She wanted to cry. To beg his forgiveness for hurting him. To crawl in a hole and hide. “Please, Dal. Let it go. Talking about it reminds me of ugly things I’d rather forget.” “So that’s it?” His jaw hardened, a look of incredulity on his handsome face. Julie wished she could give him more. Wished things could be so much different. But they weren’t. And they never would be again. Tightening her resolve, she nodded. “That’s it.” He hesitated, as though thinking this over. Standing in the middle of the road facing each other, the sound of rustling trees filled the void. After years of regret and longing for something more, Julie realized how utterly alone she was. She’d never felt so empty inside. So hollow and bereft. “No, I can’t accept that,” he said. “I have a few ugly things from my past I’d rather forget, too. But I want you to know something, Julie. After the last time I drove to Tulsa to see you for your sixteenth birthday, I never forgot about you. Not ever.” Oh, that hurt. Her stomach tightened with guilt and regret. He’d been so good to her, and look how she’d treated him. The only person in the world who had really cared about her. After what she’d gone through, she’d wanted to call him. So many times. To beg for his help. To ask him to take her away. But what could he have done for her? A kid from nowhere, just like her. They weren’t even legal adults. With no money, no education, no real jobs and no way to change the life they’d been thrust into. She wanted to tell him about it now, but couldn’t. It wouldn’t change the outcome. She couldn’t confide in him something so horrible that just thinking about it caused her to shake as if it had happened only moments before. All the humiliation and embarrassment came rushing back. Right here, right now. Instead, she turned and walked toward home. He fell into step beside her, silent and brooding. She felt his disapproval like a leaden weight. This discussion wasn’t over. Someday soon, she knew she’d have to offer him an explanation. The silence soon became deafening. “How’s your mom doing, Dal?” He lowered his head an inch, staring straight ahead. “Mom passed away while I was in Afghanistan.” His voice sounded harsh and indignant. “I’m so sorry. She was such a dear woman.” “Yeah, she was. But I believe she’s at peace now. Losing Dad when I was so young was always hard on her.” “Did you ever marry and have kids?” She shouldn’t have asked, but she really wanted to know. “No. I was engaged once, but...it didn’t work out. She didn’t want me after... After the war.” He glanced down at his leg, and Julie understood. His fianc?e hadn’t wanted him after he’d become an amputee. He’d become damaged goods, just like Julie. She wished Dal had found happiness with someone. He deserved a life of joy. So did she, but that didn’t make it so. She kept walking. Ignoring her wobbling knees. Wishing he’d leave her alone and forget they’d ever found each other again. It was easier that way. Less heartache. Less emotions. Less to lose. He stayed beside her. Just as relentless as the day she’d refused to go to the movies with him until he’d asked her out five times. Finally, she’d conceded out of frustration. And that had been the beginning of the best memories of her life. But that was then and this was now. They couldn’t go back. She couldn’t get close to this man again. And that was that. * * * Why wouldn’t Julie talk to him? Dal couldn’t figure her out. All the past years stretched vacant before them, and she refused to offer a single explanation as to what had happened to her. Or why she’d turned her back on him. Why she’d stopped loving him. He remembered the night her parents had died with perfect clarity. The authorities figured her dad had been driving the car when they’d hit a deer on the dark interstate. Julie had been out on a date with Dal. They’d gone to the movies and then for cheeseburgers and fries at the local drive-in. Not wanting to face her dad’s deep frown, Dal had brought her home five minutes before curfew...and found Sheriff Levy waiting on her front doorstep. The weeks afterward had been a numbing whirl of grief. The funeral and burial. Julie had no other family. No one to provide her with a home. Dal had even begged his mother to take Julie in, but Mom couldn’t. Working as a cook on the ranch where they lived, there was no extra room for Julie. Even with Dal’s after-school job at the local grocery store, they barely made ends meet. Mom insisted that Julie would have a better life in foster care. Dal hadn’t agreed, but he’d had little choice in the matter. For a few months, Julie had stayed with a kind family in their hometown. She and Dal had been inseparable. She hadn’t discussed her feelings over her parents’ death, but he’d been there for her. Every day. Just to let her know he loved her and that everything would be all right. Then the social worker had moved Julie to a foster home in Tulsa, eighty-seven miles away. It might as well have been eight hundred miles. At first, they’d written and called each other every chance they got. Not so easy without cell phones. In thirteen months’ time, the distance between them had done nothing to dim their love. Dal figured that was how it is when you find your soul mate. He even took the bus to visit her twice. He’d never forget her haunted expression or the way she’d clung to him when it had come time for him to leave. By then, she’d seemed so withdrawn and reserved. That’d been the last time he’d seen her. Three weeks later, he couldn’t reach her by phone. Her foster mom had told him she’d been moved and was living with someone else now, but she didn’t know who. When Julie’s letters had stopped coming, he’d called Social Services to see if she was okay. But they’d refused to tell him anything. It was confidential information, they’d said. Dal had known something had happened to Julie besides her parents dying. Something bad. In desperation, he’d convinced his mom to use her single day off work to drive him to Tulsa. He’d gone to Julie’s foster home, but the chilly welcome and lack of information drove him to Social Services. Their reception had been almost as cold. They wouldn’t tell him where Julie was or who she lived with now. He wasn’t a family member and had no right to the information. Driving all that way hadn’t helped. And so he’d gone home and waited. Relied on God to take care of her. Hating his youth and inexperience. Wishing he was a grown man with a life and a way to provide for the girl he loved. Julie never called. Never sent him so much as a simple postcard to let him know she was alive. Not a single word in twenty long years. And now here she was. Without an explanation or apology. Without so much as a nod. Why? Had she fallen for someone else? Maybe she was just angry at him for leaving her. For not being able to stay. But that didn’t seem right. Before she’d been moved to Tulsa, he’d proposed they run away together. Julie had been the one to refuse. She wanted him to use his athletic abilities to get a scholarship and go to college. To make something of his life. Instead, he’d gone to war and lost his leg. Whatever had happened to Julie, he didn’t understand. None of it. “You must have gotten a college degree. I know it was always one of your goals,” he said. “Yes, but I didn’t get the chance to attend a university until I was twenty-four. After high school, I got a summer job fighting forest fires in Oregon. I liked the work and being outside. So I decided to do something with my life and focused on my schooling. It wasn’t easy, but I worked my way through with scholarships and student loans.” “I’m glad, Julie. You deserve some happiness in life.” And he meant it. His love for her had been pushed to a small corner of his heart, but it had never dimmed. He wanted nothing but the best for her. “Thanks. How about you? Did you ever get your football scholarship and go to medical school?” He nodded. “For two years, but I didn’t finish. You know I loved working with horses. I ended up joining the Marine Corps and seeing the world.” When he thought of all the death and blood he’d seen in battle, a scoffing laugh escaped his throat. He wasn’t about to say that losing her had taken the joy out of his college plans. Without Julie, he’d had no desire to pursue the dreams they’d made together. “I’m glad you’re safe, Dal. I have nothing but admiration for all our military men and women.” He glanced at her, seeing the sincerity in her eyes. And that was when he knew he still loved her. In spite of everything, he couldn’t be angry with her. Nor could he forget what she’d meant to him all those years ago. And knowing all that reminded him of why he could never be with her now. Life had changed them. Hardship had shaped them into the people they’d become. And his secret past would now keep them apart. “Thanks for running with me, Dal.” They’d reached her front yard. The morning shadows had faded with the gleaming sunlight. The neighbor across the street came outside in his bathrobe to retrieve his newspaper. “You’re welcome.” Julie pushed open her gate, stepped past then closed it firmly behind her. As Dal waited until she went inside her house, he longed to curse God. How could he accept this cruel twist of fate? Why, after all these years, had the Lord brought them back together? It seemed like a taunt. A spiteful prank played on him and Julie. It changed everything and nothing. And that was the cruelest part about this situation. Chapter Four The next morning, Dal showed up to run with Julie again. And the next. They settled into a comfortable routine. Warming up together. Chatting about the upcoming 5K race. The weather. Alterations for the horse trail and campsite. Workshops Dal had planned for the kids at the amputee camp. Everything but what was really on both of their minds. Why Julie had quit returning Dal’s phone calls and letters once she went into foster care. The following week, Julie drove her Forest Service truck out to Sunrise Ranch. Tall aspens lined each side of the graveled driveway, the spring breeze ruffling the leaves. As she broke from the stand of trees, a panoramic view of the ranch opened before her. Nestled in the green valley, a variety of corrals and other ranch buildings surrounded the white two-story house. A spacious red barn, stable and gazebo sat on the south side. Compact cabins lined the outer perimeter on the north side, along with two large bunkhouses. Julie figured that must be where the staff and amputee kids lived when they stayed at the camp. As she parked out front, she opened the truck door and looked to the east. Two men raced their horses across the green meadow. A blue-coated Australian cow dog zipped alongside the horses like a bullet. Though a goodly distance away, Julie had little trouble identifying Dal on a dun-colored horse. His confident carriage and the width of his strong shoulders were distinctive. He lay low across the neck of his horse, his right arm outstretched to give the animal full rein. The other man rode much the same way as their mounts sprinted toward the barbed-wire fence dividing two pastures. A flutter of fear ruffled Julie’s already frayed nerves. She clutched the handle of her leather briefcase with whitened knuckles. As Dal and the other man crossed an imaginary finish line, they pulled up short of the corrals. Julie released a shaky breath of relief. The dog plopped down in the grass, tongue lolling out of his mouth while he panted. By Julie’s calculations, Dal had won the race by a full length. The horses slowed to a walk, and Dal clapped his friend on the back. Their laughter echoed off the tall mountains surrounding the ranch. Julie sucked in a deep breath, trying to relax. For a moment, she’d feared Dal might crash into the fence. As he walked his horse toward the house, he looked her way, lifting an arm to shield his eyes against the glaring sun. Julie’s pulse sped into triple time. She could almost feel Dal’s eyes boring into her like a high-speed drill. She couldn’t help being highly aware of him as a handsome, masculine man. In high school, he’d been outgoing and athletic to the point of being reckless. But now he was older and should know better. Perhaps being an amputee made him think he had something to prove. And yet, she was impressed that he hadn’t let his injury stop him from living a full, active life. Knowing he could clearly see her truck, she feared that he might come over to visit her. She hurried toward the wraparound porch, eager to get inside the house. She’d be out here again tomorrow morning to ride with Dal up on the mountain to view Gilway Trail. That was soon enough to see him again. She gave the front door several quick raps with her knuckles. A cute girl, about twelve years old with an adorable button nose, answered her call. “Good afternoon. Is your mother home?” Julie asked. “Yeah, come on in.” The girl stood back to let Julie step inside. Julie’s gaze lowered to the girl’s legs. Dressed in a pair of knee-length shorts, the child also wore a prosthetic leg. Like Dal, she walked without a hint of a limp. “Mom! The new ranger’s here,” the girl yelled over her shoulder. “Oh, my goodness. Is it that time already?” a woman’s voice called from the kitchen. The house smelled of cinnamon and warmth. Something nice must be baking in the oven. “You must be Kristen,” Julie said to the girl. She knew Lyn and Cade Baldwin also had a new baby. “Yes, and you’re Dal’s old girlfriend,” Kristen said. A statement, not a question. Julie’s jaw dropped. Her mind churned, wondering what Dal might have told these people about their past. “We were good friends once.” “I love Dal, too. He’s one of my best friends in the whole world.” Too? The girl must think Julie still loved him. And Julie didn’t know how to disabuse the child of that notion without offending her. “Dal saved my dad’s life,” Kristen said. “They were in the war together. Of course, Cade’s not my real dad, but I love him like he is anyway. Cade was a prisoner of war, and Dal went in to get him free. Dal pushed him out of the way during an explosion. That’s how Dal lost his leg. The bomb hurt him real bad. I lost my leg in a car crash that killed my real dad.” “Ah, I see. It’s a good thing Dal was there to save Cade.” Julie blinked at this detailed information. Kids were so guileless, open and honest. Julie knew Dal had lost his leg in the war, but hadn’t known he’d done it while saving another man’s life. No wonder he and Cade Baldwin were such good friends. Hearing about Dal’s heroics made Julie feel emotional and patriotic. She had no doubt God had sent Dal to rescue Cade. But now she wondered if Dal needed rescuing. “Have a seat. Mom will be right here.” Kristen walked back into the kitchen. Resting her briefcase on the floor, Julie sat on the edge of the closest chair to wait. A soft baby blanket had been tossed over the armrest, and she pushed it to one side as she looked around. Braided rag rugs covered the shiny hardwood floors. A large stone fireplace dominated one wall of the tidy living room. Woven baskets with colorful, intricate designs decorated the tabletops, along with vases of dried field flowers. A striking Native American headdress made of ermine and rabbit fur rested atop a tall armoire. Beautiful pictures of wild mustangs and modern cowboys adorned the walls. A playpen and a basket of toys sat in the middle of the room. Obviously the Baldwins favored a Western motif. Julie had been told by her office manager that Cade Baldwin was part Shoshone Indian and ran a medical practice three days a week in town. Julie could find no fault with this comfortable home and had great respect for the work Dr. Baldwin and his wife did for amputee kids. A scuffling sound came from the kitchen, and then an attractive woman with long blond hair and warm brown eyes appeared in the doorway. With a flustered sigh, she used a damp cloth to scrub an orange splotch of what looked to be baby squash off her shirtfront. Tossing the dishcloth onto the kitchen table, she came forward with a bright smile. “I’m so sorry. I lost track of time. I just finished feeding the baby.” “Is this a bad time to talk?” Julie asked as she stood. “No, of course not. It’s always crazy around here. I’m Lyn Baldwin, and you must be Julie Granger.” She extended her arm. Julie returned the woman’s smile as they shook hands. “Yes, I’m glad to finally meet you. I’ve got so many questions I’d like to ask.” “Sure. I’ll help any way I can. Please sit down and relax.” Lyn indicated the chair. “Thank you.” Julie sat. “Do...do you need to get your baby?” “No, Kristen’s with her.” At that moment, Kristen came into the room carrying a chubby infant wearing a pink sundress and a full head of dark, curly hair. Julie fell in love immediately. Lyn pointed at the girl. “You’ve already met my daughter, Kristen. She’s twelve. And the little one is Clarisse, my other daughter. She’s seven months old now and getting her first teeth.” Kristen jostled the baby on her hip. “Do you want to hold her?” No! Julie knew nothing about holding a baby, but the invitation caught her off guard. “I, um, sure.” Kristen handed the infant over, and Julie clutched the little girl around the middle with both hands. Little Clarisse hung suspended in the air, sucking on her fist. She gazed at Julie with wide blue eyes. And then the baby laughed. An exuberant chortle that made Julie blink in surprise. “Hey! She likes you,” Kristen said. “She sure does.” Lyn curled her bare feet beneath her and sat on the leather sofa. Julie didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. Prickles of panic rushed up her throat. She hadn’t held a baby since...since she couldn’t remember when. But as she looked into the eyes of this innocent little being, so vulnerable and trusting, Julie’s insides dissolved into mush. “Do you have kids?” Lyn asked. “No, I’ve never married.” “Well, you’re a natural mom. Anyone can see that.” A creeping heat stole its way over Julie’s face. She’d given up on marriage and kids long ago, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want them. Life just hadn’t provided them. Not with her aversion to most men. So she’d learned to settle for what she did have. As Clarisse kicked her bare legs, Julie couldn’t help cuddling the little girl close within the crook of her arm. A domestic feeling of tenderness flooded Julie’s heart with regret. How she wished she could have... No! She couldn’t think that way. It wasn’t fair to torture herself over something she didn’t have. Instead, she focused on the good in her life. Like right now, sitting in this comfy home with a baby in her arms. Clarisse waved her tiny hands and made several happy panting sounds, shredding the rest of Julie’s resistance. She snuggled Clarisse close, catching the clean scent of her skin. Before she could think to stop herself, Julie brushed her lips against the baby’s soft forehead in a spontaneous kiss. Dallin Savatch chose that precise moment to walk through the front door. Another tall, dark-haired man accompanied him. 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