It's a Christmas Thing (The Christmas Tree Ranch #2)(56)

Rush and Clara stood on the threshold, snowflakes glistening on their coats and hair. Rush was carrying a wreath of fresh pine boughs. “We brought you a present,” Clara said.

“You’re supposed to hang it on the outside of your door,” Rush added. “But we thought maybe you’d rather hang it inside, for the smell. I brought a hanger. It goes over the top of the door.”

“Come on in.” Tracy stepped aside for them to enter. A chilly breeze blew in behind them. The glorious fragrance of fresh-cut pine flooded the room. Tracy inhaled, deeply. “Oh, my, it smells like Christmas!”

Rush took the hanger out of his coat pocket. It was designed with a bent metal piece, flat and thin enough to fit over the top of a door, with a longer hook at the bottom for a wreath.

“Inside or outside, up to you,” Rush said.

“Oh, inside. Definitely inside.”

While Rush hung the wreath on the door, Clara wandered over to the fireplace and stood looking down at the empty spot where Murphy’s bed had been. Sad-eyed, she turned back to Tracy. “Daddy told me that Murphy went to heaven,” she said. “I’m sorry, Tracy. I bet your husband was happy to see him.”

“I’m sure they were happy to see . . . each other.” Tracy’s voice stumbled over the last words.

“Are you sad?” Clara asked.

“Yes, I am,” Tracy said. “But I’ll get better. That’s why I invited you to come, to help me get better.”

“I’ll try. Where are the kittens?”

“In the laundry room. You can let them out. They’ve been needing somebody like you to play with them.”

Clara scampered down the hall to open the laundry room door. Rush had finished hanging the wreath. Its fragrance scented the air, spreading through the room. Tracy walked over to the door where he stood. “Thank you,” she said. “For the first time in two years, that wonderful aroma makes me feel like it’s Christmas.” And so do you.

“Well, you said you didn’t want a tree. But I didn’t think you’d mind a nice wreath—at least for the fragrance. It’s a Christmas thing.”

“Can you stay?”

He shook his head. “If I’m one minute late getting back to the ranch, Conner will have my head. It’s crazy time at Christmas Tree Ranch. Thanks again for taking Clara.”

“She’ll be good for me.”

“And you’re good for me.”

She was looking up at him when he bent, caught her waist, and kissed her. The kiss, meant to be a quick good-bye peck, lingered, deepened, went on and on as their hungry lips clung.

“Oh, wow!”

They broke apart. Clara stood at the entrance to the hallway, a kitten cradled in each arm. “Does this mean you’re getting married?” she asked.

Rush laughed. “Right now, all it means is that we really, really like each other. Get used to it.”

With that, he was out the door and gone.

Hot-faced, Tracy turned back to Clara. The little girl was grinning. “I’d like it if you married my dad,” she said. “Then you could be my mom.”

“You already have a mom, Clara,” Tracy said.

“I have two dads. I could have two moms.”

Tracy shook her head. “Never mind. Did you have breakfast?”

“Uh-huh. I ate three whole pancakes. Travis made them.”

“Okay, you can tell me when you’re hungry for lunch. I know you’re playing with the kittens right now, but what else would you like to do?”

“Can we play in the snow?”

“It’s still coming down out there. Wouldn’t you rather wait till it stops?”

“No. It’ll be like playing inside a snow globe. I saw one in a store once. It was so beautiful with the snow coming down.” Her small face brightened. “Let’s go out now, before it stops.”

There was no way Tracy could win that argument. Dressed in warm parkas, boots, and gloves, they raced outside into clouds of swirling white. The snow on the ground was deep enough to reach Clara’s knees. She stumbled and floundered through it, giggling ecstatically as she fell backward, making angel after angel.

“You make an angel, too,” she told Tracy. Tracy fell on her back in the snow. Fanning her arms and legs, she made a perfect angel. Then she tried to get up.

“Oh, no,” she moaned, “I’m stuck!”

Clara squealed with laughter as Tracy thrashed and struggled to her feet, her angel spoiled. “Can we make snowballs?” Clara asked. “We could have a snowball fight.”

“We could try.” Tracy tried shaping a handful of snow into a ball. It fell apart. The snow was too soft. “I guess we’ll just have to throw snow,” she said, tossing a handful at Clara’s coat. Clara grabbed some snow and tossed it back. By the time it struck Tracy, it had broken into powder.

“I guess we can’t make a snowman, either,” Clara said.

“We can try in a day or two, when the snow’s had time to settle,” Tracy said. “But I know a fun game. It’s called Fox and Geese—or Goose, I guess.” Letting Clara follow her, she broke a circular trail in the snow, with cross trails leading from one side of the circle to the other. “Okay, you’re the fox, and I’m the goose. We can only run on the trails, and you have to catch me. Go!”