The Bachelor Ranger

by Rebecca Winters

  Both Alex and Darlene laughed.

  He held the skeins of hair in his hand. “Many women want to achieve this silver-gold color. If I could find a way to bottle yours…”

  Removing the drape, Alex got out of the chair to look at him. “What do you think? Honestly.”

  Michael cocked his head while his eyes examined her. “I think I don’t know who you are anymore. Who are you trying to hide from?”

  He saw a lot, but he had it wrong. It was Cal who had hidden from her. That had devastated her, but she’d had a year to get beyond the pain. “It’s more a case of hoping people will see the grown-up me from now on, someone to be taken seriously.”

  His smile grew thoughtful. “Interesting. Try a little more bronze in your lipstick. Tone down your eye makeup. Your eyes are green enough already. Don’t use blush unless you’re going out in the evening. You don’t need it. With hair and glowing skin like yours, natural is better.”

  “I agree,” Darlene said.

  Whoa. But Alex had asked for honesty. Whoa. “Thanks, both of you. I mean that sincerely.” She put a hundred dollars on Darlene’s table next to the brush. “Now wish me luck.”

  She left the salon feeling pounds lighter, both mentally and physically. While she walked through the mall to the sporting goods store, she kept seeing herself in the glass, unable to believe it was really her.

  “Hi,” she said to the female clerk. “I’d like your help in choosing an outfit for an interview at a national park. I’m hoping to get a volunteer job. I need something sensible, yet sophisticated.”

  “There’s a cotton sweater that’s just been put out in a dark olive green. It has a collar and short sleeves. Come over here. We’ve paired it with pleated pants in a tan twill. It’s a lovely look and would suit you. But if you don’t like green, the sweater also comes in burgundy, burnt orange and Persian blue.”

  Alex didn’t hesitate. “The green’s perfect. I’ll try it on.”

  “What size shoe do you wear?”

  “Seven B.”

  When she came back out of the dressing room, the clerk showed her a pair of women’s Avia low hiker boots in dark brown suede and leather. Alex put them on. They felt and looked good. After picking out socks, a couple of pair of jeans and a similar number of short-sleeved tailored blouses in tan and cream, she said, “I’ll take everything. You’ve been a real help.”

  One more stop at the department store for a new lip stick and she drove back to the ranch, already feeling transformed. Her brothers would tell her it was long past time her old hairdo and high-maintenance designer wardrobe were gone.

  That evening she put on her new clothes—a style she’d never worn before—and walked through the ranch house to the kitchen. Her parents were seated at the island enjoying coffee and some of the cook’s grasshopper pie. So much for the diets they claimed to be following.

  One look at her and they both cried, “Honey—” almost falling off their stools. The double take they gave her said it all.

  “I’m glad you’re speechless. That means I’ve accomplished my first objective. Here’s the reason.” She handed them the letter. “I want Chief Rossiter to believe in me and my proposal.”

  They read it together before her father looked at her through new eyes. “You get my vote, honey.”

  “What are your plans?” her mom asked.

  “I’m flying to Merced in the morning,” Alex said. "I’ve booked a room at the Holiday Inn. Monday morning I’ll rent a car and drive to Yosemite Village for the interview. I don’t want to be seen hanging around before.”

  Her blond mother with her perennial tan slid off the stool to hug her. Muriel was well built and stood five foot seven. Everyone told Alex she looked like her mom. “Good for you, honey. You’re there for business, no other reason. Now you’re learning. May the best woman win.”

  ONE MORE CARTON TO GO.

  While Jeff was bringing in more things from the truck, Cal opened the box and started shelving the last of the books in one of the bookcases he’d put in the study. These were textbooks he’d used while attending the University of Cincinnati, first for his undergrad in biology, then his MBA. It all seemed another lifetime ago.

  On the other wall he’d placed three floor-to-ceiling rattan wine racks. They were perfect to hold the many maps he referred to on a day-to-day basis. Each one covered different quadrants of the park.

  His last task was to reassemble his long drafting table and floor lamp. He needed a big surface to spread out his work. Once he’d accomplished that, all he had to do was set up the computer and his study was complete.

  This was the first time he’d lived in a house since leaving the farm at eighteen to go to college. For years he’d rented apartments while he’d been in school and after he’d joined the family business. Later he’d gone to work for the forest service and ultimately the parks, where he’d lived in a succession of tents and cabins.

  This three-bedroom home was luxury by way of comparison. How ironic that he had so much more space now and no one to share it with him.

  “I’ve never seen this oil painting before. Where do you want me to hang it?” Jeff stood in the doorway.

  Cal knew the painting he meant and didn’t bother to look up. “Just set it against the wall in the spare bedroom with the other boxes I need to go through.” The picture of the San Miguel Chapel in Santa Fe had been a special thank-you gift from Senator Harcourt after his visit to the E.R. at the San Gabriel hospital in Stockton, California, three years ago.

  His daughter, Alex, had been with her father, who appeared to have suffered a heart attack while on a hike in Dana Meadows at the eastern end of the park. Cal had been the one to do CPR and get the senator flown to the hospital. Alex had been so frightened before the doctor told her he’d only suffered severe indigestion that she’d broken down in Cal’s arms, unable to thank him enough.

  She’d filled his arms in a way that surprised Cal, but she’d been too young for him. The Chief reminded him she was the senator’s daughter in a not-so-subtle hint to keep his hands off her. Unfortunately there had come a time a year ago when he’d crossed a line with her and vowed to himself it wouldn’t happen again.

  By that time Leeann Grey had been transferred to Yosemite. She and Cal had known and liked each other when he’d worked at Rocky Park, but he’d only been there a few months before he’d been sent to Yosemite to work under Ranger Thomas. They hadn’t had the time to explore what might have been between them.

  When Cal saw her again a few years later, he was already settled into his work, enjoying his career. They began dating and one thing led to another. Leeann was an attractive brunette his own age who’d shared his love of the outdoors. The timing was right and they got married.

  He hadn’t seen Alex Harcourt since his wedding, but the mention of the painting brought an image of her instantly to mind. Something told him she’d picked out that gift. Her father had been born and raised in Santa Fe, which meant the subject had great meaning for their family. But Cal had never hung it. Now that he had a real home, he’d get around to doing some decorating and find a place for it.

  Jeff appeared in the doorway again, jarring him back to the present. “Where do you want the box marked personal?”

  “Same place as the other boxes—in the spare bedroom.” Those contained family pictures and photos of the rangers, including wedding pictures of Leeann. “One of these days I’ll find the time to sort everything out. Maybe next week.”

  Gathering the empty boxes, Cal walked down the hall. Jeff was just coming out of the other bedroom with a load. “No more work,” he told him after they’d put the cartons in the back of the truck. “Now that we’re both moved into our houses, let’s get out of here. I’m starving.”

  “You’re not the only one!”

  The rain had let up, allowing them to walk to Yosemite Lodge for dinner in the dining court without getting drenched. Afterward they went back to Jeff’s house around the corner fro
m Cal’s to kick back with a few beers and watch a movie.

  Cal only made it halfway through the film before he knew he needed a bed in a hurry. When he looked over at Jeff, the guy was passed out on the couch. Cal got up and turned off the TV. After a minute’s debate, he decided not to wake him and took off for his house. If it seemed strange to go to sleep in different surroundings, he didn’t notice. Physical exhaustion had caught up to him.

  AT NINE ON MONDAY MORNING, Alex pulled into the parking lot of the Yosemite Lodge under an overcast sky. There were a lot of cars. Some of them had to belong to applicants like herself.

  Though the summer tourist season wouldn’t officially start for a few more days, the park attracted vacationers year-round. Alex ought to know. She’d come here so often, she could give guided tours. In fact she’d played up that aspect in her proposal, but didn’t mention that she’d learned the equivalent of a university course of valuable knowledge from Cal.

  His insights had given her a reverence for the park, particularly the animals. Every time she listened to one of his talks, her appreciation for its wonders grew.

  Well…this was it.

  She reached for her handbag and got out to cross through the village area to headquarters. When she walked inside, a few tourists were milling about, looking over the displays and maps. Alex approached the female ranger in reception. She’d seen Ranger Davis on duty many times before.

  “Hello.”

  The other woman’s head came up with a smile. “Hi! Welcome to Yosemite.”

  “Thank you. I’m supposed to report to the Department of Resource Stewardship for an interview. My letter didn’t give me a specific time, only the date.”

  “Oh, yes. You’re one of the applicants for a volunteer position. What’s your name?”

  “Alex Harcourt.”

  The ranger’s brows knit together. “I didn’t know Senator Harcourt had an—another daughter.”

  Alex heard her near slip of the tongue. The woman was going to say an ‘older’ daughter. Alex’s change in appearance was better than wearing a disguise. She couldn’t have been happier about it.

  “I’m afraid I’m his one and only.”

  Ranger Davis looked puzzled. “I didn’t recognize you without your long hair.” That wasn’t all she didn’t recognize, Alex was sure. Her change of wardrobe had to be a shocker—from trendy tourist to the practical garb of national forest service worker. “Just a minute while I ring Ranger Thompson and let him know you’re here. I believe he’s in with someone else right now. Take a seat.”

  “Thank you.” Alex walked over to one of the chairs to wait. Instead of looking around eagerly in the hope she’d see Cal, like she used to do, she reached for one of the brochures about the park attractions. The last thing she wanted was to make eye contact with any of the rangers who’d stonewalled her a year ago when she’d tried to find him.

  The minutes wore on; forty-five had passed before she was told to walk down the corridor and make a right turn at the next hallway. Ranger Thompson’s office was the first door on the right.

  Alex thanked Ranger Davis and made her way through a group of visitors to her destination. The door had been left open. No one was inside the room. It looked like a receptionist’s office, small, with a few family pictures and a mug with pencils on the desk. No sooner had she sat down than another door opened from an adjoining room.

  An attractive ranger with dark brown hair stepped inside. Alex had seen him before. “Ms. Harcourt?” He walked around the desk to shake her hand. “Over the past few years we’ve run into each other coming and going, but never officially met. I’m Ranger Thompson. I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.”

  “No, no. It’s fine.”

  “Good.”

  If he was shocked by her changed appearance, he was an expert at hiding his feelings, or else Ranger Davis had alerted him so he wouldn’t react. Either way, his inscrutable expression gave Alex nothing to go on but her grit.

  “My assistant, Diane, screened all the volunteer applications and sent out the letters. Give me a minute to find yours and look at it.” He took his place behind the desk and searched through a pile of newly tabbed folders until he found hers.

  After studying the contents he said, “Your résumé indicates you’ve taken college classes in both the U.S. and Europe. You speak fluent Spanish and have had some amazing travel experiences—a safari in Kenya, a trip to the hidden rain forest of Madagascar. I also notice you’ve won some awards barrel racing that are very impressive.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It seems that between classes and travel, you’ve worked part-time for Hearth and Home in Albuquerque, New Mexico, for at least ten years. Was that for your father?”

  Her father’s seven terms as a U.S. senator would have opened many doors and given her ample opportunity for work. Naturally this ranger would assume as much, but she could tell he wasn’t bowled over by anything he’d read yet.

  “No. With my mother. If you’ll look beneath the application you’ll see the proposal I’ve worked up.” His assistant, Diane, had seen it. Otherwise Alex wouldn’t be sitting here.

  He shot her a puzzled glance.

  “I’m sure you’ve never heard of the Hearth and Home program. There are twenty H & H ranches built all over our family’s property outside Albuquerque. Here’s a brochure that will explain everything.” She took it from her purse and handed it to him.

  As he started to read, she watched his expression change. A minute later he looked up at her sharply. “Your mother did all this?”

  “It was her brainchild funded by the Trent foundation, the legacy from her great-grandfather. I’ve worked alongside her all my life and helped run it. These families are my friends.”

  Alex could hear the pride in her voice. “Several years ago I saw an article put out by the Lost Trails of the Sierra Youth Fund asking for volunteers for Yosemite and a light went on in my head. What I’d like to do is bring some teenagers from our Hearth and Home families to help here.”

  He sat back in the chair, his steepled hands pressed against his lips. She noticed he wore no rings. “Go on.”

  Perfect. She’d captured his attention.

  “My father has shared the park superintendent’s and the chief ranger’s concerns that minorities aren’t attracted to the national parks in big numbers to work or visit. It occurred to me that by bringing in these English-speaking Native Americans, it’ll serve the same important purposes of the LTSY volunteer program. As I understand it, they have three aims—to develop future stewards of the park, to help do vital restoration and to give the kids a completely different kind of employment than any they’ve known.”

  His hazel irises flared as if she’d suddenly dropped in from another planet.

  “There’s nothing like exposure to nature to fire up young minds and give them vision. They know how much I love Yosemite and have expressed an interest in being part of such a project. The Trent Foundation would provide the funding, of course. Ten thousand dollars per teen for the summer. This money has been earmarked for me personally to use throughout my lifetime. It has nothing to do with my father or mother.

  “And I’d like you to know that Dad had nothing to do with my idea or this proposal. He’s retired. If you decide it isn’t right for the park, please don’t be concerned that he’ll pressure you to change your mind. And contrary to what you’re probably thinking, the superintendent doesn’t have a clue, either. What goes on during this interview is between you and me only.”

  Alex didn’t want to belabor her point, but it was important to establish up front that this was her own initiative.

  “Because Dad is the former head of the Federal Energy and Natural Resources Committee for the Senate, I’m aware that other national parks have the same problems and needs—and offer the same programs—but I thought I’d start with Yosemite because I love it here.”

  Taking a leaf out of her mother’s book, she got to her feet to mak
e a dignified exit after a short, concise presentation. “If you think you’re interested, you have my phone number and email address on the application. Thank you for your time, Ranger Thompson.”

  “Please sit down, Ms. Harcourt,” he said unexpectedly. “Chief Rossiter needs to hear this before any decision can be made. It’s possible he’s available now.”

  Alex couldn’t be happier. Adrenaline surging, she waited while the ranger made a phone call. After a brief conversation he hung up and said, “Unfortunately he’s not in the building. Could you be back in my office at nine in the morning? He’ll be available then.”

  “Of course. Thank you.”

  THE HILLS ON THE OUTSKIRTS of Redding, California, housed the Cascade Bear Institute of California run by Gretchen Jeris. She was a bear biologist who’d figured out there had to be a way to co-exist with bears without killing them. After years of research, she’d found a solution in the Karelian Bear Dog and brought it back from Finland.

  On Monday morning, Cal drove to Redding to pick up the bear dog he’d been matched with after a complicated screening process. Today he’d be taking him home.

  Cal had been up here several times before to undergo training under Gretchen’s exacting standards. All bear dogs were different from each other. All handlers were different. It was critical that the dog’s personality matched Cal’s in order to ensure the highest potential for compatibility.

  Gretchen had dedicated her life to breeding the best dogs and promoting their use through other agencies around the world by sharing her training protocol. The litter Cal’s dog came from was sired by her prized Finnish dog, Paavo Ahtisaari, an international champion from a line of champions.

  The primitive breed was known for being exceptionally intelligent, brave and kind, but even in a litter, not all were considered to be bear-conflicting dogs. Gretchen watched for that special pup, born with the quality of fearlessness and aggressiveness that made it able to track and handle bear and moose confrontations.