The Forest Ranger's Christmas Read Free Page B

toward the squad car, then turned his back on the policeman and indicated the house. “Frank, can I speak with you inside for a few minutes? Alone.”
    Clint sure didn’t want Tim around for what he had to say next. Unfortunately, he had a feeling about Frank that would undoubtedly upset the elderly man and his fuming granddaughter even more. It’d be best to deal with the problem in private. Without anyone else present, including Josie.
    But Clint couldn’t back down. The issue was too important. He just hoped that, when he was finished with what he had to say, he and Frank Rushton were still good friends.

Chapter Two
    “S ure we can talk, Ranger. Come on inside where it’s warm,” Frank said.
    Clint glanced at Josie. “I’d like to speak with your grandfather alone for a few minutes, if you don’t mind. It’ll only take a minute.”
    She shook her head. “Sorry, but I’d like to be included.”
    He hesitated, frowning with displeasure, but Josie didn’t give him the chance to argue. Frank lumbered toward the house and she followed, chugging through the snow like a bulldozer. Feeling as if the bottom of her world had just crashed through the floor. Dazzling smile or not, she wasn’t about to leave Clint Hamilton alone with her grandfather. Not when he could change his mind and have Gramps arrested.
    Gramps circled around to the side entrance into the kitchen. He opened the door, then stood back to admit Clint and Josie first. She wasn’t surprised. Her grandfather was the kindest, most decent man she knew. Always putting others first. Generous to a fault. It wasn’t odd that he cut and gave trees away to the local widows. And it didn’t sit well with Josie to have him accused of theft. At least the ranger was being reasonable about the situation.
    For now.
    As she stepped inside, the warmth of the kitchen enveloped her. Then a sour odor like stale, damp socks struck her in the face.
    Josie’s gaze swept the normally tidy room in astonishment. Dishes crusted with food sat piled high on the stove and in the sink. A brick of cheddar cheese sat drying on the countertop, greening with mold. Several cupboard doors hung open. Moving past Clint, she reached up and closed them. Something crackled beneath her feet and she crinkled her nose.
    Her mind churned, trying to make sense of the mess. Grandma had always kept a spotless house. Since her recent passing, Josie had come to visit Gramps twice. She’d cleaned his house each time, but it had never looked this bad. And she figured this was one more reason he needed her help.
    Gramps indicated the chairs at the scarred, wooden table. “Take off your coat and have a seat, Ranger. You can talk freely in front of Josie. What did you want to say?”
    Clint stood right where he was, his brow creased. He obviously didn’t want Josie here, but she wasn’t budging. As if realizing that, he indicated the rumpled pamphlet Gramps still clutched in his gnarled fist. “Frank, I don’t mean to embarrass you in any way, but can you read that brochure to me?”
    Frank’s eyes widened. “Of course I can read it.”
    Yes, of course he could. At Gramps’s age, his eyesight wasn’t the best, but Josie knew he could read. And she couldn’t prevent an annoyed frown from creasing her forehead as she looked at Clint Hamilton. Nor could she soften the demanding tone of her voice. “What exactly are you implying, Ranger?”
    Clint shifted his booted feet, his persistent gaze centered on Gramps. “Truly, I don’t mean to be rude, Frank, but would you get your glasses and read it to me now? Please?”
    “Ranger, stop this,” Josie demanded, openly hostile now.
    Clint’s gaze rotated to her, his dark eyes piercing her to the back of her spine. She expected him to make a biting remark, but he merely looked at her with a glaze of forced disinterest. As though he was trying not to like her.
    “Please, call me Clint.”
    Not if she could help it. Not as long as he posed a threat to