It's a Christmas Thing (The Christmas Tree Ranch #2)(34)

It had occurred to him to wonder why she had no children from her marriage. Maybe it was because she’d wanted to focus on her legal career. But that was none of his business.

The finished angel skirt was nothing to brag about. Mostly they’d just made it bigger. But Clara seemed satisfied, and that was all that mattered.

“All done, Daddy,” she said, surveying their work. “Now we’ve got three angels—a mom angel, a little girl angel, and a big, messed-up dad angel. A family of angels.” The way she looked from Rush to Tracy sent a message that couldn’t be missed. Lord, was his little girl matchmaking too?

“I think that’s enough snow games for now,” Tracy said. Something told Rush she’d gotten the same message.

“We need to be going,” he said. “Clara’s getting cold. We’ll just get her things from the house and be on our way.”

“Can I say good-bye to Murphy and Rainbow and the kittens?” Clara asked.

“If you hurry. Stomp the snow off your boots so you won’t track it into Tracy’s kitchen.”

“Okay!” She dashed for the house.

Tracy fell into step with Rush as they followed her across the yard. “Thanks for everything,” he said. “She loves it here. I’m afraid she’ll be begging me to let her come back.”

“That would be fine,” Tracy said. “She’s delightful. We had a great time together.”

“Are we still on for breakfast on Saturday?”

“I suppose so. I may be saying that against my better judgment, but I’m a woman of my word.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have fun.”

They entered the house to find Clara standing next to the box, holding the white kitten. “Be a good kitty, Snowflake.” She kissed the kitten’s velvety head. “Remember that I love you.”

Rush swallowed the lump in his throat as he gathered up the shopping bags. “Come on, Clara, it’s time to go,” he said. “Put the kitten down and say thank you to Tracy. We’ll see her Saturday morning when we go to breakfast.”

Clara gave the kitten one more kiss and lowered it into the box with the others. “I’m coming, Daddy,” she said. “Thank you, Tracy.”

“You’re very welcome,” Tracy said. “We had fun, didn’t we?”

“Uh-huh. Can I come again?”

“Sure, when it’s a good time for both of us,” Tracy said. “I’ll see you two on Saturday”

Clara turned to go, then suddenly stopped. “Tracy, we forgot. You were going to help me write to Santa Claus.”

“Next time,” Tracy said. “Or maybe your dad can help you. Don’t worry. We’ll make sure Santa gets your letter.”

Rush herded the little girl outside and boosted her into the Hummer. She waved at Tracy as they drove away. He could tell she’d had a good time. So had he. But when he thought about where all this was going, he could see nothing ahead but heartache. When the holidays were over, Clara would go home to a self-centered mother and an indifferent father, and probably a new set of caregivers. He might not see her again for years.

And what about him? Losing his little girl a second time was going to rip his heart out. And the prospect for anything lasting with Tracy wasn’t much better. The beautiful judge was still wedded to her late husband. He would try to show her a good time. But he couldn’t—and wouldn’t—compete with a ghost.

For now, all he could do was make the most of every day, until the time came, as it surely would, when he’d be left with nothing but memories.





Chapter 8


Tracy stood on the front porch and watched the Hummer pull away from the curb. Clara waved at her through the rear side window. Smiling, Tracy waved back.

As the Hummer vanished into the swirling snow, she brushed the moisture from her coat and went back inside. Murphy raised his head and wagged his tail, greeting her as if she’d been gone for hours. Dropping her coat and sinking to her knees, she wrapped her arms around the old dog and pressed her face against his neck, inhaling his warm, familiar doggy aroma. A tear dampened her cheek.

Why did love have to hurt so much?

And why, when she knew the hurt would come, had she been foolish enough to open herself to more?

On Saturday, Rush and Clara would come by to take her to brunch at the B and B. If she had any sense, she would make an excuse, tell Rush that she was sick, or that she’d changed her mind. But that wouldn’t keep Clara from begging to see the kittens. As long as the little girl was in town, Tracy would be trapped—a helpless passenger on the one-way train to heartbreak.

*

By Saturday morning, the storm had passed. A warm front had moved in, bringing sunny skies and snow melt. Water dripped from the eaves of the houses. Cars in the street splashed melting slush under their tires.

Tracy was waiting when Rush came to the door to pick her up. He steadied her on the slippery pavement as he helped her into the Hummer, where he’d left Clara, who was wearing her new jeans and vest.

“Did our snow angels melt?” Clara asked as Tracy fastened her seat belt.

“If they haven’t already, they will,” Tracy said. “The snow’s going fast.”

“Can we make more angels when it snows again?”