Table of Contents

  Title Page

  I bought this book because...

  Legal Shit

  Squad Goals

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Rescued by the Ranger

  A Forever Safe Christmas

  By Dakota Rebel

  Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

  www.supernovaindie.com

  Powered by Your Imagination

  Rescued by the Ranger

  by

  Dakota Rebel

  Jaxson:

  Seven years ago, I lost everything. My family, my home and the love of my life. I couldn’t save anyone that day. That’s probably why I became a park ranger, to help people. I just never imagined that I’d spend Christmas Even saving a woman I’d thought was dead and falling in love with her all over again.

  Andi:

  Seven years ago, I lost everything but my own life. Four years ago, I almost did lose it. Hiking the mountains of Colorado in December this year might have been tempting fate. I’d thought for a moment that maybe I was in Heaven, but no, I was just in a cabin in the woods with a man I’d only thought was dead.

  He wants to pick up where we left off like nothing has happened. But after all these years, all of these tragedies, I’ve learned to close myself off. And I don’t know that I can just open myself up to pain like that again. I lost him once…could I really survive it if I lost him again?

  Rescued by the Ranger is a standalone book that is part of A Forever Safe Christmas collection. This second chance romance is completely safe, with dual virgins, no cheating, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

  Copyright

  © 2019, Dakota Rebel

  Rescued by the Ranger

  Published by: Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

  Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

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  Chapter One

  ~ Jaxson Moore ~

  “Hey, Moore!” The walkie-talkie on the desk squealed with feedback before Hector’s voice continued. “Moore, we’ve got a missing hiker out your way. Need you to get out there. Do you copy?”

  “Yeah.” I snatched the radio and confirmed. “What do you got?”

  “Female. Black hair, slight build, orange coat. Got separated from her friends around the eighty-eight when the storm kicked up last night.”

  “Jesus,” I responded. “It got down to negative numbers last night.” My heart clenched as I thought about the fact that this might be a recovery and not a rescue. If she was out there in that kind of weather overnight…well, I wasn’t sure many people would survive it.

  “The friends say she has the proper gear, so hopefully you’ll find her safe,” Hector sounded stiff and I realized that her friends were probably in the room listening to our conversation.

  “No problem,” I assured him. “I’ll find her and bring her home.”

  After pulling on my own cold weather gear, I opened the front door to find that the storm had dropped at least another ten inches of snow on us the night before.

  Fuck. If she was on the ground somewhere, she could be buried until spring thaw. I shook my head. That was no way to think. She had friends and family that were counting on me to find her. And that’s what I was going to do.

  I dug out the snowmobile and set off toward the eighty-eight, hoping she hadn’t wandered too far off the trails from there. The storm hadn’t been expected, beyond the fact that it was Colorado in late December, so it wasn’t a big shock that someone had gotten lost in it. But who the hell hikes the Colorado mountains in the winter anyway?

  When I reached the eighty-eight, which was just a mile-marker that hikers used for coordinates, I slowed the sled down and started methodically circling the area for what felt like hours. Checking the time on my phone, I cringed to see it sitting at three percent.

  Finally, I noticed the copse of trees about a mile from where Hector said they’d gotten separated, and if she were an experienced hiker, that’s where she should have headed for the best protection against the storm. I drove that way, hoping she’d been smart enough to use the trees for shelter.

  I headed in on foot, since the trees were too close together to get the snowmobile through. Finally, I spotted a pack hanging from a branch up ahead, a bright red flag tied to it. Hurrying over, I circled the tree and found a bundled-up sleeping bag.

  Seeing it there, someone completely zipped up inside, gave me a momentary flashback to the worst day of my life. Stacks of body bags heaped in the town square. Hundreds dead. Hundreds missing. My family gone. My life destroyed.

  I closed my eyes and leaned on the trunk next to me for a minute, trying to breathe through memories that I hadn’t allowed to surface in years. This wasn’t a body bag. And she wasn’t dead. She was well protected and obviously smart. Whoever this woman was would be going back to her friends tonight.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I dropped to my knees and forced myself to unzip the sleeping bag. The bright orange coat and a full-face fleece mask were all I could see, but her chest was gently rising and falling, so she was alive.

  I shook her a few times, but she didn’t so much as stir. Even protected the way she was, it was possible for hyperthermia to have set in. I needed to get her to base and call an ambulance.

  I lifted her off the ground, keeping her wrapped in the sleeping bag and carried her back to the sled. It would be difficult with her unconscious and flopping around, but I needed to get her down the mountain.

  Thunder crashed overhead as I got us situated on the snowmobile. The sky had darkened again and snow was falling thick, wet and fast. Damn it. Another pop-up. I was going to have to take her to the cabin and wait it out.

  I raced back, not wanting to get caught in it the way she had the day before. These storms had been a total nightmare. The forecasters couldn’t predict them and just kept saying to be prepared at all times.

  Yeah. No shit.

  I pulled up to the cabin and carried the girl inside, laying her on the bed. I eased her out of the wet sleeping bag, which thankfully was dry on the inside. Then I covered her in a heated blanket and checked her pulse again. Steady.

  Grabbing her hands, I checked for frostbite on her fingers, but they were perfect. I pulled off her boots and socks, checked her toes, which were clear, then put a pair of my socks on her feet.

  I needed to check under the mask, but the walkie chirped and I jumped up, realizing I hadn’t let Hector know I’d found her.

  “Hey, please tell me you didn’t leave the radio back at the cabin,” Hector’s voice sounded quite put out.

  “I did actually,” I confirmed into the walkie. “But I’m back and I have her. At least, I have someone in an orange coat. She’s unconscious but seems okay. I haven’t found signs of frostbite or anything.”

  “Why didn’t you bring her down?”

  “It’s snowing like a mother fucker up here. I brought her back to the cabin and as soon as the storm dies out we’ll head down.”

  “Roger that,” he said. “We’ve got some happy kids down here.”

  “Glad to hear it,” I said. “Out.”

  I set the walkie back on the desk and turned back to the woman in my bed. She was sitting up, her hands fumbling with her mask.

  “Hey,” I said, rushing over to her. “Man, I’m glad you’re awake.”

  “Me, too,” she mumbled. Her hands were shaking and she was having trouble gripping the fleece. “Can you help me, please?”

  “Of course.” I pulled the Velcro closure at the base of her neck open and pulled the mask up gently. Piles of dark hair spilled out from under it. “How are you feeling. Can I get you some coffee? Some soup? Tea?”

  She shook her head, pulling her knees up to her chest and burying her face in her hands.

  “Hey,” I said, patting her awkwardly on the back. “It’s okay. You’re fine. Your friends are fine. Everyone is okay. You’ll be home for Christmas, tomorrow. We just have to sit out this storm.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “You’ve just been through something pretty traumatic,” I told her. “It’s normal for the body to react in unusual ways. You were out there for a long time. Give yourself a while to get your bearings. And you really should eat.”

  “Okay,” she said with a sniff. “Everyone else is okay, you said?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed, heading into the kitchenette to heat up a can of soup. “I have vegetable or chicken noodle.”

  “Whatever,” she said.

  I picked chicken, figuring if she wouldn’t eat it maybe I could at least get her to drink the broth. As I cooked, I talked, trying to keep her animated and awake. I wasn’t a doctor, and I had only basic first aid skills, so I had no idea if she was okay beyond being alive.

  “So, where are you from?” I asked.

  “I live in Maine,” she said.

  “You’re a long way from home. What brings you to Colorado?”

  “I’m visiting friends for Christmas.”

  I heard rustling and turned to see her standing up, looking around the room.

  “You should be in bed,” I scolded.

  “Please tell me you have a working bathroom in this place.”

  “Of course!” I insisted. “Sorry, I should have said.” I walked over and slid the door open. “It’s kind of hard to spot. There are towels in the cupboard if you want to take a hot shower. Which is probably a good idea, actually.”

  “Is my pack here?” she asked, looking around.

  “Sorry, I didn’t grab it.” I went to the chest at the foot of the bed and pulled out a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. “They’ll probably be a little big, but the pants have ties so you should be able to cinch them.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  The whole time she’d had her face pointed to the floor, and I wasn’t able to actually get a good look at her. I knew I needed to check her nose and ears for frostbite, but she was so jumpy I didn’t want to force her to look up at me if she didn’t want to. It was probably fine. She’d been smart enough to stay protected. And most likely she’d check herself in the mirror in the bathroom and would let me know if she was hurt in any way.

  I went back to the stove and turned the pan to low, covering it to simmer while she cleaned up.

  The wind howled outside and I walked over to the window to see…nothing. It was a complete white-out. I checked the wood stacked by the fireplace, glad that there was plenty. I really didn’t want to try to get to the shed and back in this. If we lost power, I didn’t want to risk her freezing her ass off again.

  “Does it ever stop snowing here?” Her voice behind me startled me.

  “You live in Maine,” I said, laughing a little. “Doesn’t it snow like nine months out of the year there?”

  “Thank you for letting me shower.” She abruptly changed the subject. “I feel a lot better now.”

  “Of course,” I told her, turning away from the window to face her. “Anything you need that I have in this cabin, you’re welcome to.”

  “Well, you’re very sweet,” she said. I could only see her profile, but she was smiling, which was a good sign.

  “Just doing my job, ma’am,” I insisted. “Do you want some soup, now?”

  She nodded, turning to face me fully for the first time. When our gazes our met, my stomach dropped.

  “Andi?” my voice was barely a whisper.

  When her honey-brown gaze met mine, I realized that I was staring at the love of my life. Andi Johnson. The woman who I thought had died on the worst day of my life, seven years ago.

  Chapter Two

  ~ Andi Johnson ~

  As I scrubbed my hair under the scalding hot spray of water, I finally started to feel like myself again. I’d been so sure I was going to die out there in the snow. It had brought up all kinds of horrible memories and I’d just retreated into my shell the way I’d done for the last seven years.

  But I’d survived. That’s what I do, I guess. I survive horrific things. The tornado that destroyed my life seven years ago. The fire that killed my uncle and scarred my body four years ago. And now a pop-up blizzard in the mountains in Colorado. Good grief, I was a walking disaster.

  I stared down at my thighs, the flesh looking like melted and hardened candlewax and sighed. It didn’t matter. There was no one to see my naked legs anyway. Soaping up and rinsing quickly, I hopped out of the tub and dried off.

  The ranger was very nice. I know it was his job to save people, but he’d been very kind to me anyway. Pulling on the clothes he gave me, I laughed. A little big? I had to pull the pant strings all the way out, enough to wrap completely around my body and tie over my belly button. The t-shirt was more like a dress, and I realized he must have a pretty broad upper body. Not that I’d really looked at him yet.

  I blew out a sigh and stared at myself in the mirror. I’d already checked my fingertips and toes for frostbite, thankful there wasn’t any. I checked my nose and ears and was pleased to see there was nothing there, either.

  Looked like I’d be able to report my company’s new cold weather gear worked. Though I don’t think that was the kind of field testing my boss had in mind, he’d be glad to hear it was literally life-saving.

  When I went back out into the main room of the cabin, the ranger was standing at the window, staring out at the snow. I walked up behind him.

  “Does it ever stop snowing here?” I asked him.

  “You live in Maine,” he said with a laugh. “Doesn’t it snow like nine months out of the year there?”

  “No,” I insisted, rolling my eyes. People always think it snows constantly east of Iowa. “Thanks for letting me use your shower. I feel a lot better now.”

  “Of course,” he said. He turned to look at me, but I was still watching the snow and only saw him in my peripheral. How the hell were we going to get out of here? “Anything I have here in the cabin, you’re welcome to.”

  “Well, you’re very sweet,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips for the first time in days.

  “Just doing my job, ma’am. Do you want some soup now?”

  I was actually hungry, which was probably a really good sign. When he’d first asked, the thought of eating made my stomach turn. But now that I was warm, and safe, soup sounded pretty good.

  When I finally looked up at him, shock hit my body like a physical force. It was impossible. He was dead. Was I dead? Did I die in the woods and now I was in Heaven with Jaxson?

  “Andi?”

  With trembling fingers, I reached out and touched his face. He felt solid. But this couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Am I dead?” I whispered.

  He didn’t answer. He just swept me into his arms and kissed me. Fireworks exploded in my head as his tongue swept over mine. For just a moment, we were sixteen years old again. Time had stopped and we were still standing on the street, saying goodnight after a date to the roller rink, or the movies, or a football game. He was kissing me goodbye, like the world wasn’t about to end.

  But of course, the world did end. And seven years had passed. Seven years of thinking Jaxson Moore had died in that tornado with everyone else I’d ever loved. Seven years of being alone and shut off and refusing to so much as look at any other man. Seven years of pining, and he was standing here kissing me like time had stood still.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against mine. “How are you standing here?”

  “They told me you were dead,” I said, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Everyone was dead.”

  “Everyone,” he echoed. He kissed me again, then tilted my face up to meet his gaze. “Seven years.” He laughed, his own eyes bright with unshed emotion. “Andi. My God.” He let out a shaky sigh and pulled me tighter into his arms. “I’ve mourned you for so long.”

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. When they’d released the list of casualties, I’d found his name, confirming what the police had already told me anyway, and tossed the paper. Hundreds of people died in that storm. Probably over a thousand when all was said and done. The warning system in town hadn’t worked and no one was prepared for the category five tornado that ripped through. In ten minutes, our town, my life, their lives, were destroyed. Ten minutes and everyone was gone.

  “They told me you were dead. My parents were dead. I went to Maine to live with Uncle Charlie.” I sobbed into his chest, my hands fisted into his t-shirt. “And now he’s dead.”

  Jaxson held me, rubbing soft circles over my back and letting me cry against him. I was so stunned that I couldn’t seem to get a grip on my emotions. He kept talking, as if trying to keep me present. Or maybe he was just trying to work out what was happening himself.

 

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