A Man Who Takes Risks
Working for the Forest Service, Tanner Bohlman knows the dangers of Idaho’s untamed lands and rivers. It’s certainly no place for a dainty woman like widowed mother Zoë Lawton, even if she is a capable marine biologist. But Zoë is new in town and could use a guide. When Tanner discovers her young son has never been fishing, he quickly becomes a father figure. Suddenly one sweet child and a woman with more grit than he gave her credit for are tugging on this man’s heartstrings. And before long, he’s questioning his vow never to love again.
“Hey, Tanner, will you be my daddy?”
Tanner’s mouth dropped open in surprise and he felt as though he’d been slugged in the gut.
“Jonah!” Zoë looked at her son as if he’d just slapped her, too.
“Um, what do you mean?” Tanner almost choked on the words. How he wished he could be this boy’s father. But that would mean he’d have to be Zoë’s husband. And that was impossible under the circumstances.
“For the church’s father-son outing. I need a dad to go with me.” The boy smiled happily, completely unaware of the consternation his request had caused the adults in the room.
Zoë gave him an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry, Tanner. I didn’t know Jonah was going to ask you to do this. He’s just a kid and doesn’t always think things through before he jumps in with both feet.”
Yeah, a cute little kid Tanner had grown to love in spite of his vow never to do so.
LEIGH BALE
is an author of inspirational romance who has won multiple awards for her work, including the prestigious Golden Heart. She is the daughter of a retired U.S. forest ranger, holds a B.A. in history with distinction and is a member of Phi Kappa Phi Honor Society. She loves working, writing, grandkids, spending time with family, weeding the garden with her dog Sophie and watching the little sagebrush lizards that live in her rock flower beds. She has two married children and lives in Nevada with her professor husband of thirty-one years. Visit her website at www.LeighBale.com.
Falling for the Forest Ranger
Leigh Bale
When I consider thy heavens,
the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him?... Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of thy hands; thou hast put all things under his feet... O Lord our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth!
—Psalms 8:3–9
For Steve, the love of my life, my all
and everything. My garden of Eden.
And many thanks to Bruce Smith and Dan Baird, who actually lived it.
Contents
Chapter One
“Jonah, be careful with that!”
Too late. The six-year-old’s careless playing had alreadly sent the shopping cart careening across the parking lot, and the boy’s little legs couldn’t run fast enough to stop it. As the cart slammed into the door of a blue pickup truck parked near the main entrance, a loaf of whole-wheat bread fell from the shopping bags and thumped to the black asphalt. Three oranges and an apple rolled beneath the truck that now bore an impressive four-inch scratch across the side of the door.
Zoë Lawton dropped the sack of potatoes and the package of toilet paper she was carrying and chased after her son. The strap of her handbag slipped off her shoulder and hung around her forearm, hampering her efforts. The purse hit the ground, its contents spilling across the pavement.
This day just kept getting worse.
A tall man stood a few feet away where he’d been placing his own groceries into the back of the truck. In her brief perusal, Zoë caught a glimpse of his firm mouth, piercing brown eyes and a glacial stare that could have coated Death Valley in ice.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to,” Jonah wailed.
The culprit stooped beneath the truck, scrambling to pick up two of the oranges. His sparkling blue eyes were filled with remorse. To add insult to injury, he pushed the shopping cart out of his way, gouging another mark across the left front fender of the truck.
“Jonah, stop already!” Zoë clasped her son’s hand and pulled him away so he couldn’t do any more damage.
“I just wanna help,” the boy said.
“I think you’ve helped enough.” The man’s deep voice sounded low and angry, like rumbling thunder. He stalked over to stand in front of them, placing his hands on his lean hips as he perused the scratches with an irritated scowl.
Not brown. His eyes were amber, with a dark coppery ring around each of the irises.
Looking up, Jonah’s chin trembled. “I’m real sorry, Mister. I didn’t mean to.”
For a fleeting moment, Zoë saw a flicker of compassion in the man’s eyes. Then he raked his fingers through his short, dark hair, showing his frustration. “I just bought this truck three weeks ago.”
His growled words showed his annoyance