It's a Christmas Thing (The Christmas Tree Ranch #2)(63)

Something told Tracy that Clara wouldn’t be impressed by the modest-size Cottonwood Corners Mall. “Phoenix is a big city, so it can have a big mall. Cottonwood Springs is just a big town.”

“So it doesn’t have a very big mall.”

“Right. But we can still have a good time looking in the stores and getting some lunch. Maybe you’ll see something you’d like for Christmas.”

“Maybe.” Clara sounded skeptical. Tracy knew that what she really wanted couldn’t be found in a store.

The mall was festively decorated, with Christmas lights and decorations. The strains of “Silver Bells” rose above the babble of shoppers and vendors. The air swam with the fragrances of cinnamon and peppermint.

In the center of the mall was a glittering Christmas tree. At its foot, in a red and gold velvet chair, sat the mall’s Santa Claus. The line of children waiting to meet him stretched far down one wing of the mall. Tired-looking parents stood off to one side, waiting. Clara stopped, standing a few paces back to look.

“Would you like to talk to Santa?” Tracy asked.

The little girl shook her head. “He’s not the real Santa. I can see his fake beard from here. And he looks tired. Let’s keep going.”

They passed a shoe store, where they found a pair of silver sneakers for Clara to wear with her princess costume. Coming out of the store, Clara suddenly pointed. “There! That’s what I want to do.” She ran toward a brightly painted photo booth. “Let’s take pictures of us together.”

Mugging and laughing in the booth, they took two strips of photos. “One for you and one for me,” Clara said. “We can keep them to remember each other.”

Tracy suppressed a murmur of dismay. Clara, with a wisdom beyond her years, was already preparing for the time when she’d go back to Phoenix and leave everyone she’d found here, maybe forever.

Racing down the mall, Clara stopped abruptly outside the window of a photo studio. “What does that sign on the glass say?” she asked.

Tracy read the sign out loud. “Special: Christmas portraits while you wait. That means you can go in and have your picture taken and get it back while you’re here.”

“I want to do that.” Clara marched into the shop. “It’s for my dad,” she told the photographer.

Clara wasn’t dressed up, but she looked adorable in her red Christmas sweater and jeans. After Tracy combed her hair, the photographer sat her in front of a Christmas scene to snap the picture. “I’ll have it for you in about thirty minutes,” he said. “I can put it in a frame if you like. I can even gift wrap it—after you’ve seen and approved it, of course.”

While they waited, they had Chinese in the food court. By the time they returned to the studio, the portrait was ready. Tracy had it framed and wrapped, and paid for it with her own card.

“Can we go now?” Clara asked as Tracy tucked the wrapped picture in the shopping bag with the little silver shoes.

“If you’re ready.” Tracy had hoped Clara would see something that Rush could pick up later for a gift. But aside from the shoes, which weren’t really a present, all she’d wanted were the photos.

Not long after leaving the mall, Clara fell asleep in her booster seat. Lost in thought, Tracy drove home. Clara was so young. She was bravely preparing for the day when she would have to go home to her parents. But how could she understand the full implications of that time—the idea that she might not be allowed to see Rush again for years, until she came of age?

Tracy remembered the nugget of hope she’d found in her online search. It might not be of any help now, but anything could happen in the years ahead. There were no guarantees, not even the promise that she and Rush would stay together. She needed to make him aware of it while she could.

She’d told herself that it would be cruel to give him false hope. But what could be crueler than no hope at all?

She had to tell him what she’d found. But first she would share what she knew with someone else—a wise friend who could advise her how to proceed.

She would talk to Maggie.





Chapter 14


Standing in the light of Clara’s small Christmas tree, Rush unzipped the tent flap far enough to look inside. He checked on Clara every night before he went to bed. It was a tender moment, made poignant by his knowing that soon she’d be gone, maybe for years.

In the faint glow that shone through the fabric, she lay nestled in her sleeping bag. One arm snuggled her stuffed white cat, much as she’d cradled the real kitten at Tracy’s house. The sight of her, sleeping so peacefully, was enough to tie his heart in a knot.

Tomorrow, the Saturday before Christmas, would be Branding Iron’s day of celebration, with the parade in the morning and the Cowboy Christmas Ball that night. Christmas would fall on the following Wednesday. After that . . .

He tried to shove the thought aside, but it stayed to torment him like a buzzing, biting insect. He’d heard nothing from Sonya. He didn’t even know for sure when the cruise would end. He only knew that after Christmas his days with Clara would be numbered. All he could do was make the most of each one.

*

On Saturday morning, Tracy rose early, fed the cats, and went outside to clear away the few inches of snow that had fallen in the night. The sky was clear, the air crisply cold but not frigid. The weather would be perfect for the parade.