LITMIR.BIZ

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up on the mountain and take what I want. It’s not like I’m going into someone’s backyard and stealing the trees.”

      Horror ignited in Tim’s eyes. “Aha! That’s a confession, Frank. We’ve got you now.”

      Josie’s mouth dropped open in dismay and her beautiful blue eyes narrowed for a fight.

      Oh, this wasn’t good. Clint regretted telling Tim that he’d drive right over here and speak with Frank about the situation. As soon as Clint had arrived, he’d heard the blare of the siren and known Tim was on his way, too. Without him intending it, the situation had been blown out of proportion.

      “Tim, let’s hear what Frank has to say.” Clint tried to calm everyone.

      “Theft?” the older man said, looking confused. “I cut down Christmas trees to give to the widows down at the civic center. How is that a crime?”

      Clint tilted his head to one side. Was this an act? Or did Frank really not understand about tree permits? Everything Clint knew about this elderly man told him he was painfully honest. But cutting trees without a permit didn’t make sense, either. The whole situation gave Clint a bad feeling, as if he was about to get hit in the head with a brick.

      “You took the trees without buying permits. That’s called stealing,” Tim crowed in victory.

      Frank’s gaze zigzagged back to Clint. “I can’t argue with that, but it’s what I’ve done all my life. Someone’s got to cut trees for the widows in town. In my day, the dads used to go out with their sons. Now, parents are too busy to spend quality time with their kids and teach them to do a good deed for others.”

      Point taken. It reminded Clint that he needed to be a better father to his own child. It wasn’t easy being both a mom and dad to a seven-year-old girl, but he’d never stop trying. He’d failed to make Karen happy, but he wouldn’t botch it with his daughter. Gracie was the light in his life. His reason for living. And right then, he decided to make time to cut down their own tree within the next few days, just as soon as she got out of school.

      “I agree, Frank. But I still need to see your permits,” Clint said.

      “It’s a clear case of theft.” Tim pursed his lips almost smugly.

      “It is not. My grandfather is not a thief,” Josie cried.

      She stepped protectively in front of Frank. Fire crackled in her eyes, absolutely stunning. But Clint reminded himself he wasn’t interested. Not after his abysmal failure with Karen.

      His heart couldn’t take it.

      He released a shallow breath and closed his eyes for the count of three. Technically, he could have Frank arrested. But he wouldn’t do that. Not in a zillion years. Not only was Frank a good friend, but Clint could just imagine his supervisor’s deep frown should this story hit the evening news. Clint could see the headlines now: Local Forest Ranger Has Elderly Man Arrested for Cutting Christmas Trees to Give Away to Poor Widows.

      Clint shook his head. No sirree. He wasn’t about to let this happen. Not on his watch.

      “Look, Ranger,” Josie said.

      “Clint,” he corrected.

      “Look, Clint. I think this is all just a big misunderstanding. My grandfather didn’t know he was taking the trees illegally. I’m happy to pay for them. If you’ll just tell me how much.” She dug inside her purse as though searching for her wallet.

      Tim shook his head like a banty rooster. “It’s too late, Josie. You can’t steal trees, then buy us off. I’ll have to take Frank in.” He reached for his handcuffs.

      “Officer Wilkins, please. Cuffs won’t be necessary.” Clint held out a hand, thinking the lawman had lost his mind. Maybe they all had.

      Josie stared at Tim in shock. “This is ridiculous.”

      “I agree,” Clint said.

      “But, Ranger...” Tim objected.

      Clint leveled his best warning glare on him and shifted his weight protectively toward Frank. Thankfully, the cop clamped his mouth shut. Without saying another word, Clint had effectively controlled the situation. He flashed a smile of amicable indulgence toward Frank. The last thing he wanted was for this good man to think he was being accused of dishonesty.

      “Don’t worry, Frank. I’m sure we can sort this out,” he said.

      Tim backed up, tossing a wary glance toward him. Clint had jurisdiction in this situation and the lawman could do nothing without his say-so.

      “Frank, I was told that you were selling these trees for a profit. From what you’ve said, that isn’t true.” Clint spoke in a congenial tone, determined to keep the peace.

      Frank shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’ve never sold a tree in my life. Who told you that?”

      Clint’s gaze wavered over the policeman for a fraction of a second. Tim had come to the Forest Service office less than an hour earlier to tattle on Frank. Unfortunately, the officer didn’t have his facts straight. Or he’d possibly omitted a few things from his report. Right now, it didn’t matter. Clint was not having Frank arrested.

      “I realize now that was a mistake,” Clint said. “A complete misunderstanding. But I hope you can see why I had to check it out.”

      Frank peered at the ranger with doubt. “It’s not true. I give all the trees away, except for the one I set up in my own living room each year.”

      Clint reached inside his coat pocket and withdrew a slim pamphlet. Tree theft of any kind was a common occurrence that cost taxpayers millions of dollars every year. As the local forest ranger, Clint had to follow up and prevent theft whenever possible. “I’m afraid you need a permit. I’m surprised you didn’t notice all the signs we have posted along the main road leading up into the mountains. You didn’t see any of them?”

      Frank shrugged his sagging shoulders. “Uh, sure, I saw the signs, but I didn’t stop to read them.”

      “The lettering is quite large. We made the signs that way on purpose. You wouldn’t need to get out of your car to read what they say. This tells you all about the permits.” Clint handed him the pamphlet.

      Frank barely glanced at the glossy paper. “How much is a permit? How do I buy one?”

      Clint pointed at the brochure. “You can read all the information right there.”

      Frank stared at it blankly. “Uh, my glasses are in the house. I’ll have to read it later.”

      Clint considered the elderly man carefully. A sense of doubt assailed him, a nagging suspicion he’d been fighting off for some time now. But he didn’t want to embarrass Frank. Before he could act on his hunch, he’d have to get rid of the cop.

      Reaching up, he clapped the policeman on the back. “Officer Wilkins, I appreciate you coming over here. But I believe it was a false call and I can take care of the situation from here on out.”

      “Are you sure, Ranger?” Tim drawled, his chest puffing out with importance. “I can haul the suspect down to the jail for more questioning, if you like.”

      “Suspect!” The word burst from Josie’s mouth like a nuclear explosion. “Timmy Wilkins, this is my grandfather you’re talking about. And you know perfectly well that you used to steal candy from Milton’s Grocery Store when we were eleven years old. Who are you to accuse my grandfather of theft?”

      “I, um, don’t recall that.” Tim ducked his head, his face flushing red as a new fire engine.

      Clint shot Josie a quizzical look, wishing she wasn’t here right now. He felt out of sorts around her. Around any woman, for that matter. Ever since Karen had died. But Josie had made a good point. Officer Wilkins wasn’t without faults. None of them were.

      “We’re not arresting Frank.” Clint’s

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