It's a Christmas Thing (The Christmas Tree Ranch #2)(70)

“No, just go. Now, before things get ugly.” The tears spilled over. She wiped them furiously with her hand. “Just go!”

He walked to the front door, picked up his medical bag, then paused in the open doorway. “I love you, Tracy,” he said. “Give me a chance to work this out.”

“Don’t say another word. Just go.”

Looking as if he’d just had the wind kicked out of him, Rush walked out the door and closed it behind him.

*

Even though it was Sunday, Rush had made a 9:00 appointment to check on the bull he’d cut loose from the barbed wire. He drove through town and took the road to the farm. It was early, but he needed something to keep him from going back to Tracy’s house, breaking down the door, taking her in his arms, and forcing her to listen.

He should have known that she’d react the way she did. Tracy wasn’t the kind of person who’d stand in the way of someone else’s happiness. But there was one thing he’d failed to make her understand. No power on earth could make him go back to Sonya. That relationship was over. But he needed time to work out a plan—one that wouldn’t hurt Clara.

Until he had that plan, trying to see Tracy again would only make the situation worse.

Maybe he should talk to a lawyer. But the lawyer he’d hired in Phoenix had been no help at all. Damn! This whole dilemma was tying his brain in knots. He only knew that he needed to find answers fast, before he lost the woman he loved.

*

Tracy opened the file drawer in her desk and took out her copy of the document she’d printed and given to Maggie. The text was a paraphrase of an Arizona law, written in answer to a question on a website about child custody. Line by line, she read it again.

A person who stands in loco parentis to a child may ask the court for custody or parenting time.

In loco parentis. That was the key phrase. It meant “in place of a parent.” Tracy continued reading.

To be in loco parentis, a person must have acted as a parent to the child and formed a meaningful relationship with that child for a substantial period of time.

That definition would certainly apply to Rush. He had acted as a parent to Clara for the first three years of her life. But there were restrictions in place—restrictions that would have made the law useless for Rush, until now.

Before such a request may be made to the court, one of the following conditions must exist. One of the child’s parents must be deceased; the child’s legal parents must be unmarried; or a case for divorce or legal separation between the legal parents must be pending (see section 25-415, Arizona Revised Statutes).

Tracy laid the document on her desk. She’d remembered it instantly when Rush had told her about Sonya’s divorce. She could have given it to him right then. Maybe she should have given it to him. But offering him another option would only have put more pressure on him as he made his decision. If his choice was to go back to his former wife, that was that. Why show him a compromise that would satisfy the law but deny him his lost family?

There was also the matter of her own pride. Giving Rush the document could have been seen as trying to pull him in her direction. It would have seemed like begging. That was the last thing she wanted. Rush had chosen his ex-wife over her. End of story. She would accept that, deal with it, and move on.

She hadn’t realized she was crying until she felt the wetness on her cheeks. Steeling her resolve, she dried her tears, got up, and went into the kitchen to clear away the uneaten remains of breakfast. Later today, people would be dropping by to pick up the kittens. She wanted to make the house, and herself, at least presentable.

She threw herself into a frenzy of cleaning. Starting with the kitchen, she loaded the dishwasher, scrubbed the stove and fridge, and mopped the floor. From there she moved to the bathroom, then on to the rest of the house, sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, and rearranging. Not that there was any great need for it. Tracy tended to keep her house tidy most of the time. But the furious cleaning gave her pain a release. She’d allowed herself to trust and love again, believing her heart was safe at last. But she should have known she was wrong.

The pine wreath still hung on the inside of the front door, spreading its fresh holiday scent through the house. Tracy had enjoyed it, but now the sight and smell of it only made her think of Rush. Fighting tears once more, she lifted the wreath off the door, carried it outside, and stuffed it in the trash.

When she came back inside, the fragrance lingered in the air. But every other trace of Christmas—and Rush—was gone.

As she sank into a chair, exhausted at last, the phone rang. It was Maureen, wanting to come and get Midnight.

Fifteen minutes later, she was at the front door. Tracy seated her while she went back to get the black kitten and the two cans of kitten food she’d planned to send home with each one.

“Oh, he’s darling!” Maureen took Midnight from Tracy and cuddled him close. “My granddaughter is going to adore him!” She stood, glancing around the barren room. “But my goodness, Tracy, what happened to your Christmas spirit? I don’t see so much as a candle or a sprig of greenery.”

“I’m skipping Christmas this year,” Tracy said. “You can just call me Scrooge.”

“Well, here’s wishing you a change of heart. I’ll see you after the holidays.” Maureen bustled outside with Midnight snuggled under her coat. Tracy closed the door and turned away. One kitten down and two more to go. And it looked as if Clara would get to keep Snowflake after all. At least that was a reason to be happy.