Healing the Forest Ranger. Leigh Bale
“You don’t sound pleased.”
“I’m just indifferent.” And stunned. A petite, attractive woman wasn’t his idea of what a forest ranger ought to look like. In fact, he’d never met a woman ranger before. Especially not one this pretty. Most of the rangers he’d met were men with pot guts. Overbellies who wouldn’t listen to reason. At least not where the wild horses were concerned. Cade wasn’t sure what to think about this turn of events.
“I suppose you’re planning to round up the wild horses and take them off the range,” he grumbled.
“Not if I can help it.” She kept her gaze trained on the rocky ground in front of her.
“What do you mean?”
“I love the wild horses. But I also love the elk, antelope, bighorn sheep and mule deer. And they need to eat and drink out here, too.”
“There’s plenty of feed for all the wildlife,” he said.
She stopped and looked at him squarely, resting her hands on her slim hips. A blaze of fire sparked in her eyes. As stunning as the wild mustangs he’d seen minutes earlier. “No, there’s not. Buck’s herd is starving. They’re too lean—I could see that with my own eyes. And they’ll soon be out of water.”
What she said went against everything Cade had been brought up to believe in. “Bah! The mustangs have been running wild across this land for centuries. They’ll make do. They always survive.”
“Yes, but many will die a slow, cruel death. A lot of elk and deer will suffer the same fate. There isn’t enough water and feed out here to sustain so many wildlife and domestic livestock, too.”
He waved a hand. “You’re just another cow lover. Get rid of all the ranchers’ fat cattle, and the wildlife will have enough feed to live on.”
She chuckled, not seeming offended in the least. “Well, I do enjoy eating a nice steak and hamburger now and then. But the ranchers are definitely restricted on how many cattle they can graze on public lands. They don’t take more than their fair share, believe me. I won’t let them.”
That was just the problem. He didn’t believe her. “Ma’am, there are more important things out here than the ranchers and their cattle.”
She brushed her hand across some sage. “There are miles of sagebrush out here. It’s edible, but provides very little nourishment for the horses. They need grass. Wild horses don’t migrate to better areas when food and water runs out. They just stay here and starve. And please, call me Lyn.”
Not if he could help it.
She poked a tuft of Great Basin wheatgrass with the tip of her scuffed boot. “It takes fifty acres of this kind of land to feed one horse for one month. That doesn’t include elk and mule deer, nor any cattle, either. You can do the math as easily as I can to figure out how many miles of land are needed to keep that wild-horse herd happy and healthy. But I can tell you this area can sustain about one hundred and fifty wild horses. We currently have over four hundred and fifty horses living in and around this national forest. And that’s too many if we don’t want to see them starve to death.”
She turned and continued walking. In spite of his desire not to, he found himself liking the jaunty bounce of her hair. Spunky and sure of herself. He’d never met anyone like her.
He flinched when she whirled around and continued her dialogue.
“And you’re wrong about the cattle. They’re just as important as the wild horses. Every man, woman and child in this country needs to eat. And cattlemen make their living by growing cows. The horses are important. The cows are important. And so is the other wildlife out here. The issues aren’t easy, but we need to find ways to make it all work together. And I have some ideas, if you’d like to hear them...”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Forget it. I’ve heard it all before, and I doubt you have anything new to add that’ll make a difference to me.”
“Have it your way.” With a simple shrug, she kept walking. No argument. No blustering anger. She seemed easygoing and laid-back. Disarming in her candor. And he couldn’t help wondering about her ideas. For the first time, he really wanted to know. But asking her to explain seemed a bit like admitting defeat right now.
They soon arrived at her truck, her boots and pant legs covered by a thin sheen of dust. As she unlocked and opened the door to the driver’s seat, she tilted her head to look up at him. “We might have conflicting opinions, Cade, but I can make a big difference here in Stokely. And I intend to do just that.”
She climbed inside and reached for the armrest to pull the door closed. Before she did so, she gave him a smile so bright that it made his jaw ache. “Thanks again for all your help. I appreciate you being so neighborly.”
He nodded once in acknowledgment, his tongue tied in knots.
As she started the ignition and pulled away, the tires of her truck bounced over the washboard road. Cade sat on his horse and stared after her, feeling withdrawn and out of sorts. He didn’t agree with her assessment of the wild- horse situation, and yet he felt as though he’d just been scolded by his mother. In the nicest way possible.
He’d noticed the growing herds of horses becoming emaciated. But the beliefs planted in his mind throughout his childhood were hard to ignore. Wild horses should be left alone to live in freedom. The government shouldn’t interfere. Right? Of course he was right!
Nope, he didn’t like the new forest ranger, but he also couldn’t deny that she seemed to know her business here. He just wished he didn’t need to have any more dealings with her in the future. Since he was the wild-horse spokesman for the Toyakoi Shoshone Tribe, Cade figured that wasn’t likely. He frequently participated in meetings and demonstrations to protect the wild horses.
Oh, yes. He’d see the new forest ranger again sometime soon. Much to his regret.
Chapter Two
“How’d school go today?” Lyn tightened her fingers around the steering wheel as she pressed on the brake. Her car came to a halt at the only stoplight on Main Street in the town of Stokely. Population eleven thousand and twenty-three, including dogs, cats and gophers.
“None of the kids like me.” Kristen’s simple reply vibrated with hurt and anger.
“I’m sure that’s not true, honey.” Lyn glanced at her ten-year-old daughter, who sat next to her, tugging against her seat belt.
“Yes, it is.”
“It just takes time to get to know everyone when you’re the new kid in town. Maybe you could invite one of the girls in your class over to the house to play on Saturday.” Lyn lightened her voice, trying to sound positive. Trying to encourage her daughter the only way she knew how.
The stoplight turned green and she pressed on the gas, moving slowly down the street.
“They’ll never like me.” Kristen tugged her skirt lower across the C-Leg prosthetic limb on her right leg as though trying to hide as much of the amputation as possible.
Lyn studied her child’s tight profile and long white-blond hair. The girl was beautiful. If only the other children would treat her like a normal kid. But that was just the problem. Kristen wasn’t normal. And she never would be. “How can they not like you? They hardly know you yet. We’ve only been here a couple of months.”
Kristen tapped her knuckles hard against the socket of the prosthetic limb. “This is all they see, Mom. They call me peg leg and gimp.”
Lyn’s heart wrenched. Kids could be so cruel. If only they’d get to know Kristen, they’d learn what a smart, sweet girl she was. And so easy to love.
“I hate it here. I want to go home.” Tears watered Kristen’s voice as she flounced around and glared out the window.
“We