The Forest Ranger's Promise

The hungry lamb jerked, knocking Shelley back into the straw. The girl laughed. “What happened to their moms?”

“Some died, but sometimes the ewe has twins or triplets and she can only take care of one or two of her babies when she goes up to the summer pasture to graze. So we bring the smaller baby here to tend.”

“Then not all the moms died?”

“Of course not, silly.” Anne snickered. “You really don’t know much.”

“Then I guess I’m a dogie lamb, too.”

Anne raised her brow. “What do you mean?”

“My mom isn’t dead, but she doesn’t want me. My dad doesn’t think I know, but I do.”

Shelley sounded like she was about to cry. Anne felt like crying, too, but refused to let it show. Even when Dad had been alive, she’d had an empty feeling inside all the time. Like he didn’t really love or want her. Like he preferred his bottle to her and Mom. But she’d always had Mom to love her. How horrible not to be wanted by your own mother. “What mom doesn’t want her kid?”

Shelley scuffed a sandaled foot against the rough lumber of the feeding stall. “Mine doesn’t. She got married to Malcolm Henley the third, and he doesn’t like kids, so I have to live with Dad. I heard them arguing about it late one night when I was supposed to be asleep.” A glimmer of a smile touched her lips. “Dad can’t cook much, but at least he wants me. He got this new transfer to Snyderville and I had to leave all my old friends behind.”

Anne thought this over for a moment, biting her lower lip. Shelley didn’t have any friends, just like her. During recess, the kids at school called her the town drunk’s daughter and she’d learned to play by herself. “Then that makes you half a dogie because you still have your dad. I guess I’m a half dogie, too. My daddy died, but I still have Mom and she loves me lots.”

Tears glistened in Shelley’s eyes. “My dad loves me, too. I’m sorry we’re both half dogies.”

“Me, too.”

And right then, Anne knew it wasn’t Shelley’s fault that her father was the forest ranger. They had a lot in common. It got so lonely here at the ranch with no one but Mom and an occasional work hand to talk to. The herders were always nice to her, but Mom never left her alone with them and they really didn’t have anything in common with her. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to be a little bit nice to Shelley Ennison.

“Come on. I’ll show you how to feed the lambs. But next time you visit, you should wear blue jeans and boots.”

“I don’t have any boots.”

Anne shrugged. “Then just wear tennis shoes.”

She led Shelley into the next pen. Shelley held the bucket of milk while Anne used a funnel to fill seven bottles. Shelley seemed eager to help and Anne appreciated the company and the help with her chores. But she sure wished Shelley’s dad was a rancher instead of a ranger.

Chapter Four

“What happened?” Melanie ran across the gravel driveway toward the barn.

Anne and Shelley hobbled toward her. Shelley howled in pain, her bare legs streaming blood.

“Shelley! Are you okay?” Scott raced ahead, his face creased with concern.

“Shelley tripped and fell on a bale of barbed wire. It cut her legs up real bad.” Anne had one of Shelley’s arms draped across her shoulders as she helped the other girl limp to the house.

Without a word, Scott scooped Shelley into his strong arms, murmuring soothing words of comfort. Blood smeared his Forest Service shirt and name badge, but he couldn’t care less.

Melanie moved into action, scurrying to the back door of the house. “I’ve got a first aid kit. Bring her inside.”

Scott followed quickly and Anne held the door open while he stepped into the utility room.

“Sit there on one of the kitchen chairs,” Melanie called over her shoulder.

Scott stepped into the kitchen and sat cradling Shelley on his lap. The girl continued to sob while Melanie hurried into the bathroom, retrieved the hydrogen peroxide, salve and bandages, then returned and knelt beside the girl’s injured legs.

Shelley buried her tear-streaked face against her father’s chest. He rubbed her back, soothing her in low tones. Anne stood beside the door in her blue jeans and work boots, looking helpless.

Melanie smiled at the injured girl. “You’ll be okay, sweetheart. We’ll get this taken care of and you’ll be good as new. Did you like the dogie lambs?”

Shelley gave an almost inaudible nod. “Y-yes.”

“Did Anne show you how to feed them?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did they almost knock you off your feet with their exuberance?” Melanie kept up a steady stream of questions, trying to take Shelley’s mind off her injuries. It helped some as the girl’s tears faded to breathless hiccups.

While she cleansed the wounds, Melanie couldn’t help glancing up at Scott. She wasn’t used to tender displays of affection from a man. She’d grown up at Opal Ranch with a kind but gruff father whom she’d only seen cry the day they buried her mother five years earlier. Dad had died shortly afterward, leaving her and Aaron to run the ranch alone.

Although he’d worked hard when he was sober, Aaron never offered her any comfort, not even when she went into labor with Anne. He hadn’t cared for much except buying more booze. She sorely missed her mother’s compassion and gentle faith.

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