It's a Christmas Thing (The Christmas Tree Ranch #2)(57)

Tracy started running in miniature steps around the circle. Catching on fast, Clara chased her. When the “goose” was nearly caught, Tracy turned onto a cross trail and got away. After a few such maneuvers, she let Clara catch her. “Now I get to be the fox,” she said. “Run, goose!”

By the time they’d played the game for ten or fifteen minutes, Tracy was out of breath and Clara was getting cold. “Time to go in.” She picked up the little girl and carried her to the porch, where they stomped the snow off their boots and brushed it off their clothes. As they opened the door and stepped inside, the lush fragrance of the pine wreath surrounded them. It really did smell like Christmas.

“That . . . was . . . fun.” Clara’s teeth chattered as Tracy helped her out of her coat and boots.

“Sit here by the warm fire while I make us some hot cocoa,” Tracy said. “When we’re warmed up, it’ll be time to play another game—it’s called Find the Kittens.”

The four kittens had scattered in all directions. Rainbow, curled in a chair by the fire, watched in quiet amusement as Clara and Tracy searched. It was as if she were saying, Go ahead and look. I know where they are. I could find them in a minute.

Midnight was under Tracy’s bed, his black fur blending with the shadows. Ginger had climbed into an open kitchen drawer. Tiger was under the desk in Tracy’s office. Snowflake was asleep on the furry white rug in the bathroom, almost invisible until he opened his eyes and meowed.

Clara put the kittens in the chair with their mother. They snuggled together, a bundle of purring contentment.

Tracy made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch. They sat at the kitchen table, talking and eating. “I wish I could stay here forever,” Clara said. “I love the snow and the ranch. I love Daddy’s friends and Bucket. And I love being here at your house.”

“Your parents would miss you if you stayed here.”

Clara shrugged. “My mom might. But she could have another baby. Andre wouldn’t miss me much at all.”

“We can’t always have what we want.” Tracy’s heart ached for the little girl.

“I know,” Clara said. “I have to go home to Mom and Andre. And I know they won’t let me bring Snowflake. I wrote to Santa just to ask him. But he can’t really bring me what I want. He can bring toys and stuff, but he can’t make people change.”

Tracy reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “You’re a wise girl,” she said. “And whatever happens, you’re going to do fine.”

“Can I ask you something?” Clara said. “You don’t have to say yes.”

“Go ahead.”

“If I can’t have Snowflake, could you keep him? That way I would know he was happy with his mom. And Rainbow wouldn’t be lonesome.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” Tracy said. “But let’s wait and see what happens.”

“Is that a no or a yes?”

“It’s a yes, if nothing better works out. Okay?”

“Okay.” Clara ate in silence for a few minutes, then changed the subject.

“I know something we can do after lunch. My friend, Gracie McFarland, showed me how to make Christmas cards. Have you got any paper, and some markers or crayons?”

“I think so,” Tracy said. “The paper is just white. Will that be okay?”

“Uh-huh. I want to make cards for everybody.”

Tracy had plenty of white copy paper in her office. The packet of washable markers hadn’t been used in a while, but when she tested them, all the colors worked. By the time she’d found what she needed and carried everything into the kitchen, Clara had finished eating. They cleared the table, wiped it off, and got ready to work.

Clara took a sheet of paper and folded it in half. “See,” she said. “Now it’s a card. You make a picture on the front and you write on the inside.”

“Can you write?” Tracy asked.

“A little. But it’s kind of hard. I’ll make the picture, and you can write what I tell you. Okay?”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

“This one’s for my dad.” She used the green marker to make a squiggly Christmas tree. “Now you write,” she said. “Merry Christmas to Daddy, from Clara.”

Once they got started the cards went fairly quickly. Each picture was different—a dog for Travis, a horse for Conner, a star for Maggie, a cat for her friend Gracie, and other pictures for the rest of the McFarland family. She even made cards for Cecil and Annie who’d taken care of her in Phoenix. The inside messages were all the same except for the names. Her artwork wasn’t bad for a four-year-old’s, but best of all, she was having fun.

“Are you going to make cards for your parents?” Tracy asked.

“They’re on the big boat. They can’t get my cards there.” Clara shook her head and kept on drawing.

On the last card, she drew a big brown dog with wings on his back. “This card is for you,” she said. “It’s Murphy. He’s an angel now.”

Tracy blinked away a tear.

By the time the cards were finished, Clara was yawning. “Time for a rest,” Tracy said. “Would you like to lie down on my bed?”

“Uh-huh. Can I take Snowflake with me?”