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“How old are you, Evie?” Jill spoke against the girl’s warm cheek, trying to take her mind off whatever had upset her.
No response.
Jill tried again. “What grade are you in?”
Still nothing.
“She doesn’t speak. Not since her mother was killed last year during an armed robbery,” Brent whispered reluctantly.
Oh, dear. It seemed Evie’s problem was more serious than Jill had first thought. And Jill couldn’t suppress a desire to help. This was a unique situation she found herself in. Without hearing any more details, she would have diagnosed Evie with post-traumatic stress disorder. Of course, Jill wasn’t a medical professional, but she was trained in how to help kids cope with difficult problems in their lives. Even if that didn’t translate to her personal life. With her skill set, she should at least be able to manage her own woes. But she hadn’t been able to. At least, not yet.
“Did you see what happened to your mom?” Jill whispered to Evie.
In response, the child buried her face deeper against Jill’s shoulder. That was answer enough. Jill had no doubt Evie was suffering from PTSD, brought on by witnessing her mother’s violent death. Something no child should ever see. No doubt the trauma had caused Evie’s selective mutism, too. The girl had been literally scared silent.
It was bad enough for a kid to lose her mom, but to actually witness her mother’s death made it even worse.
“Don’t worry. You’re safe now. We can sit here for as long as you like,” Jill told the girl.
Evie’s hold on Jill’s neck relaxed just a bit.
“You seem good with kids,” Brent said.
She nodded. “I have a master’s degree in special education and teach for the Boise School District.”
His mouth went slack. “Evie isn’t a special-ed kid. She’s very intelligent. She just saw something really bad.”
He sounded defensive and Jill figured he’d dealt with people thinking Evie was mentally challenged because she wouldn’t speak. Because of his protectiveness toward his daughter, Jill liked him immediately.
“I’m sure she’s very smart. She’s just experienced a terrible trauma, which is why she’s chosen to be silent.” Jill hugged the girl closer, wishing she could somehow shield Evie from being hurt again.
Life could be so unkind.
“Most people don’t understand. They think Evie should just get over it and start talking again,” Brent said.
Jill shrugged. “Well, I understand. Many disabled people are very bright. They simply have a unique issue they have to work through. And sometimes that takes a very long time. But most people are impatient creatures. They want answers now and aren’t always willing to work for it.”
His blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he looked at her with awe. “You really do understand, don’t you?”
Jill smiled, thinking it all sounded so easy when she talked about it like this. But real life was actually a very messy affair. Not so easy when you had to wade through the muck and figure things out on your own. If God hadn’t abandoned her after the divorce, she might not feel so alone now. But He had and she did.
“Are you from around here?” he asked.
“Yes, I grew up here and still consider it home. My family lives in town. Since the school year ended yesterday in Boise, and I’m off for the summer, I decided to come back for a visit.”
“Ah.”
For another five minutes, she sat there with Evie’s very tall, muscular father hovering over her. She took a moment to study him without appearing to do so. Long legs sheathed in faded blue jeans and worn cowboy boots. He had startling blue eyes and saber-sharp cheekbones. Highly attractive. In his eyes, she saw his concern and anxiety—and all the love he had for his daughter. He was the kind of guy that made her think maybe love hadn’t passed her by after all. That maybe she should reconsider dating and give love one more chance.
No! She mentally shook her head, telling herself she wasn’t interested. Not in any man. Not ever again. Her heart couldn’t take it.
“Evie, can you be really brave and let go of me now?” Jill finally asked the girl.
Evie drew back and gazed at her. She had a cute button nose and blue, translucent eyes identical to her father’s.
“Do you feel better?” Jill asked her.
Evie nodded, but she didn’t speak. She simply looked deep into Jill’s eyes, as though peering into her soul. Jill felt as though this innocent child were assessing each and every one of her flaws and determining if she was worthy of her trust.
“Do you think you can go with your father now?” Jill said.
Another nod. The girl slid off Jill’s lap and reached for her daddy’s hand. Brent pulled Evie into his arms, kissing her face several times, brushing the long, blond hair back from her cheeks as he whispered a contrite apology. And once again, his actions toward his daughter made Jill like this man on the spot.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have made you go inside the store with me,” he whispered.
Jill watched the pair closely, feeling out of place as she witnessed this poignant moment between father and daughter. Evie clung to her dad and nodded her forgiveness. The two obviously had a close relationship.
Jill stood, stretching her numb legs and brushing a streak of dirt off her blue jeans.
“Sorry to trouble you, Jill. Thanks again.” Brent held out his hand.
Jill shook it, the warmth of his fingers sending an electric pulse up her arm. She quickly let go, her stomach churning. “Anytime.”
She stood back as he led Evie to his truck and helped the little girl climb inside.
Picking up her purse, Jill went into the store. As she paid her gas bill and explained to the gawking sales clerk what had happened, she couldn’t help wondering about Evie and her worried father. If they were passing through town, Jill would never see them again. If they lived in Bartlett, they were bound to meet up somewhere. Maybe at the grocery store, or the one-room post office. Of course, Jill wasn’t planning to stay long. A few days. A couple of months, max. It depended on how bad the problems were at her family’s business. She’d soothe her mother’s frayed nerves, try to help her younger brother at the sawmill and repair the damage if she could, then return to her lonely apartment in Boise. Evie and Brent Knowles were simply strangers that had crashed into Jill’s life and were now gone.
And that was that.
* * *
Brent opened the truck door and helped Evie climb into her seat. After buckling her in, he paused long enough to gaze into her mournful eyes. He cupped her rosy cheek with the palm of his hand and kissed the tip of her nose.
“You okay now, honey?” he asked.
She didn’t return his smile, just gazed back at him with a somber expression. Sometimes he wished she’d yell and scream. That was something he could understand. Something he thought he knew how to handle. But this quiet compliance, he couldn’t comprehend. It made him wonder what was going on in his little girl’s mind. Her silent solitude must be such an empty, lonely place. If only she’d let him in. If only she would trust him. He felt so clumsy and inept at helping her forget the trauma of her mother’s death.
So powerless.
His prayers remained unanswered. No matter what he did, he couldn’t break through the hushed walls Evie had erected around herself. Even after taking her to a barrage of doctors and specialists, Brent still didn’t know how to help his own little girl.
“You feeling better?” he asked again.
She gave a tentative nod, her gaze sliding toward the convenience store where Jill was paying her bill.
“You like her, don’t you?” he asked.
Evie nodded again.
“Me, too. She’s a nice lady.”
And she’d been there for his daughter. A complete stranger. But a pretty stranger. She was a petite woman with long, sandy-blond hair and intelligent amber-colored eyes. And when she’d flashed her dazzling smile, it had made his throat constrict. Even now, he could hardly take his eyes off her and kept glancing over to view her through the store windows. She’d been so patient and kind, not rushing Evie the way her teachers and counselors sometimes tried to do. And not one of them had gotten through to Evie. No one had.
Until today.
Closing the door, Brent walked around to the driver’s seat and climbed inside. Jill’s car was parked in front of his vehicle, so he took his time. Rather than backing out, he’d wait for her to pull forward.
Evie never took her hawkish gaze off him, vigilant to ensure he didn’t leave her. As he started the engine, he switched the heater on low. The spring weather had put a distinct chill in the air.
He looked at the convenience store. Jill walked toward her car, reaching to take her keys out of her purse. She glanced his way, her warm eyes meeting his. All at once, her cheeks flooded with color and she ducked her head, obviously embarrassed by what had transpired between them. She opened her car door, seeming eager to escape.
Brent couldn’t blame her. She must be feeling a bit jittery after what had happened. An unfamiliar man and his daughter clinging to her like they were all close friends. And a part of him wished he didn’t have to leave it like this. Not without clarifying things first. Not without knowing more about Jill. He was quickly forgetting that she was a stranger he’d met twenty minutes earlier. For some crazy reason, he felt as though he’d known her all his life.
In her rush, Jill dropped her purse, the contents spilling across the dirty pavement. Her mouth fell open in exasperation and she crouched down to gather up her stuff. A hairbrush, nail file and a wallet with a pink flower decorating the front. Feminine things that reminded Brent she was an attractive woman and he was now a lonely, single father.
He almost got out to help, but thought better of it. He needed to focus on Evie and her needs, not on a pretty special-ed teacher from Boise. With his daughter and busy profession, he had his hands full already. Until Evie was speaking again, he couldn’t contemplate anything but her.
Jill glanced up at him and gave an apologetic shrug for the delay. He smiled his encouragement, his mind churning with memories.
He thought about his wife, Lina, and the night she’d died. He’d been working out of town at the time. Fighting wildfire in the mountains of Colorado.
His stomach clenched at the thought. Lina hadn’t been feeling well. She’d never asked, but he knew she wanted him to stay home with her. He’d left anyway. The overtime and hazard pay were too much to resist. He didn’t make a large salary and the extra money would allow them to pay off some bills.
How Brent wished he’d remained home with his family. An inferno of regret scorched his gut every time he thought that maybe, if he hadn’t gone on the wildfire, Lina would still be alive. She’d be whole and unhurt. Evie would be okay. The burden of guilt weighed heavy on his heart. And with Evie refusing to speak, he couldn’t seem to shake it off.
Giving another, yet more exasperated shrug, Jill stood and opened her car door before slinging her purse onto the passenger seat. He chuckled, wishing he dared roll down his window and tease her about all the heavy bags women seemed to carry around everywhere they went. But then, he froze, realizing this was the first time since Lina’s death that he’d felt like flirting with a woman.
His mind stumbled to a halt. Confused and empty. Wondering what was wrong with him. Wondering what it was about Jill that appealed to him so strongly. Perhaps it was just her kindness toward Evie. And yet, he knew it was something more. Something he couldn’t explain. Like an invisible magnet that drew him to her in spite of his vow never to love again.
As Jill climbed inside her car, she flashed that stunning smile of hers and waved at Evie. Brent looked back at his daughter and witnessed the greatest marvel of all. Something Brent never expected and hadn’t seen in a very long time.
Evie smiled and waved back.
Chapter Two (#ulink_afe1553f-a421-5abb-b252-0e92aa40682d)
“No, I don’t have an appointment with the forest ranger, but I still need to see him. Right now.” Jill stood inside the reception room of the redbrick Forest Service office, gripping the strap of her blue leather purse with whitened knuckles.
Martha Hartnett, the receptionist, stared at her with wide eyes. Jill met the older woman’s gaze without flinching. Feeling determined and forceful. Unwilling to leave this office until she got the answers she needed.
“I’ll ask if he can see you,” Martha murmured as she walked around the high counter, and headed down the long hallway toward the back offices.
Jill watched her go, feeling shameful for her pushy behavior. Martha’s husband worked at the sawmill and Jill hated upsetting the woman. This situation wasn’t Martha’s fault. But Jill was exhausted. She’d spent a sleepless night, sitting up with her anguished mother, trying to sort through everything her brother had told her. Accusations against Alan that didn’t make sense.
At least, not to her.
Jill didn’t know what to believe right now. Alan had always been a good kid. Hardworking and generous. And he’d proven it when Dad had died eight months earlier. While Jill lived in Boise with a career she loved and the aftershocks of a broken heart, Alan had stepped in to take on full management of Russell Sawmill without a single complaint. Timber harvest had been here in Bartlett since the early 1900s, when Teddy Roosevelt and his army of forest rangers had demanded the preservation of large tracts of land for future generations. Jill’s great-great-grandfather had built Russell Sawmill and never left town. But Jill had—as fast as she could go. The moment she’d graduated from high school. After all, what kind of future would she have had here? None. Unless she’d wanted to work at the sawmill the rest of her life. Which she hadn’t—and still didn’t.
It was a two-and-a-half hour drive from Bartlett to the nearest doctor, dentist and decent shopping in the city of Boise. She pacified her guilt for not coming home often by telling herself it was too far to drive frequently. And since leaving Bartlett, she’d returned only for Christmas holidays, short summer vacations, her father’s funeral and to help occasionally at the mill.
Until now.
Alan was only twenty-six. Though she was proud that he’d taken it on, he was too young for so much responsibility. The whole family knew he wasn’t much of a businessman when it came to balancing the books, but Alan knew logging and how to run the timber yard. If not for her brother taking over the mill operations, they might have had to sell it off. Or worse yet, shut their doors. With dozens of employees depending upon the sawmill for their livelihood, they just couldn’t close up shop. But now, Alan had been accused of something dreadful.
Timber theft.
A charge that could destroy their family’s reputation and put their entire sawmill out of operation. Jill couldn’t let that happen. Alan claimed he was innocent. And to find out the truth, Jill had to speak with the forest ranger. She had to know why he believed Alan had stolen hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of ponderosa pine.
“Jill?”
Jerking around, she came face-to-face with Brent Knowles. He stood inside the doorway, his sun-bronzed features creased with confusion. In a quick glance, her gaze swept over his handsome face, then down past his drab olive-colored shirt and spruce-green pants. Her gaze focused on the bronze shield pinned to the left front pocket of his shirt. In a rush, her stomach cramped with uncertainty and a tight breath whispered past her lips.
Forest ranger.
Inwardly, Jill groaned. Recognition flashed through her brain like lightning across the mountains. Brent was the ranger. Evie’s daddy. The man that had made Jill think about dating and giving love a second chance. The same man that had accused Jill’s brother of stealing timber from the national forest.
Jill blinked, trying to absorb the truth with her dazed brain. Surely Brent couldn’t be the same person who had soothed Evie so tenderly the day before.
Or could he?
For several moments, she couldn’t contain her surprise. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes narrowed. “Y-you’re the forest ranger?”
Her voice sounded small and uncertain. She’d been gone from home long enough that they must have changed forest rangers on her. The last ranger she’d worked with at her family’s sawmill had been short and portly, with a large belly that jiggled over his belt buckle when he walked. Overbellie, they’d called him. Not this tall, gorgeous man with a friendly smile that turned her brain to mush. Right now, she felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room.
“Yes, I’m the ranger.” Brent nodded, tilting his head to one side as he looked at her quizzically. No doubt, he was wondering what she was doing here. And why she’d so rudely demanded to see him.
“Oh.” Her voice sounded like a deflating balloon.
“You look upset. Why don’t you come back to my office so we can talk?” He stepped back, waiting for her to precede him down the hall.
For the count of three, Jill hesitated. Every harsh word she’d planned to say to this man who’d thrown suspicion on her brother froze on the tip of her tongue. As she took a step, she remembered Evie and that the little girl had lost her mother in a violent tragedy.
That Brent had also lost his wife.
Jill didn’t speak as she headed down the hall like a stealth bomber on a collision course. She knew the way. Over the years, she’d been here often enough. First, with her father, when he’d taught her and Alan how to run the sawmill. But she’d never liked this place, because the forest ranger had the authority to tell her family when and where they could harvest timber for their mill. He was the enemy. At least, that’s what had been ingrained in Jill since birth. Rangers and loggers were not friends. Not ever. It was that simple.
Then, after Dad had died, she’d helped with the transition at the mill, until Alan took it over. But she’d never had plans to return. She should be with her husband right now. Happy and in love. Planning a family of her own. Instead, she felt disillusioned and cynical. At first, she’d blamed her failed marriage on herself. She’d been so busy with her education and then work. When she’d learned David had been cheating on her for years, she couldn’t help wondering why her husband hadn’t wanted her. If David had loved her, she would have tried to make it work. But he didn’t, and they’d divorced three months before her father died.
The sound of a phone ringing and the click of someone typing in one of the back offices filled the void. Jill took that moment to gather her thoughts, but found herself wishing again that she hadn’t come here. Maybe it would have been better to disregard the rumors of theft that were flaming around town and let it all die down. But Jill feared ignoring them might only allow the situation to escalate. She must deal with it now, before it became worse. If nothing else, she needed to ease her mother’s frantic mind.
“Have a seat.” Brent touched her arm as he indicated one of the cushioned chairs sitting in front of a wide mahogany desk in his modest office.
Jill sat and rubbed the spot where he’d grazed her, the warmth of his fingers still lingering. She glanced at a row of metal filing cabinets, a scenic picture of a mule deer, and piles of manila folders. Her gaze screeched to a halt on a picture of a younger Evie sitting on the desk. The girl was laughing, cuddled against a smiling woman with the same chin and golden hair. No doubt it was Evie’s mother, Brent’s deceased wife.
Jill couldn’t believe the difference in Evie. She looked so happy and carefree in the picture. Like a normal, exuberant little girl. Not at all the frightened, haunted child Jill had met at the gas station yesterday afternoon.
“So, what can I do for you?” Brent slid the picture around as he perched on one corner of the desk. Jill sensed it was a protective gesture. A subtle way of keeping his life private. A barrier to keep Jill out.
Okay, she could take the hint. In fact, she preferred it that way, too.
