by Janet Dailey
Where was she going to sleep? He would have to buy or borrow a bed. And there was no spare room for her. Either he would have to set up her bed in a corner of his room, or move out and bunk on the sofa while she was here. She was going to need regular meals and somebody to watch her and keep her safe. And what about Christmas? Cecil had mentioned presents, but she wouldn’t be able to bring them on the plane. He would need to buy her something to open. She would want a tree, of course. They had plenty of trees here, but no decorations.
Just thinking about what needed to be done was giving him a headache—to say nothing of the emotional trauma involved in having Clara back, then having to let her go again, maybe this time forever.
He was still questioning his own judgment when his phone rang. The caller was Cecil. They had their plane tickets and would be arriving in Oklahoma City the following afternoon. Rush promised to meet them at the airport. To get there in time, he would need to leave first thing tomorrow morning.
Travis and Conner had overheard the conversation. “Don’t worry,” Conner said. “We’ll get things ready for her here. She’ll be fine. It’ll be an adventure.”
An adventure? Maybe, Rush thought. Or maybe having Clara here would turn out to be a total disaster. All he could do was plunge ahead with the plan, be there for the child he loved, and hope for the best.
* * *
When Cecil and Annie arrived at the airport with Clara, Rush was waiting to meet them. He paced restlessly as the flight’s arrival was announced and the first passengers began moving down the escalator into the baggage claim area. He willed himself to stay back and wait. No sign of them yet. But the plane had been a big one, he reminded himself; and, having bought their tickets the night before, they’d likely have been seated in the rear.
What would she be like?
A child could change a lot in a year. Rush knew that Clara would be taller, less of a baby, and even more independent than he remembered. She’d talked early and, even at three, had been able to carry on a fluent conversation. By now, she could be talking like a miniature adult. Those things Rush knew to expect. Other things—the important things—were fearful uncertainties.
How would she remember him? As the father who’d loved her, or as the person who’d walked out of her life and left her with a stranger? Had Sonya and Andre poisoned her against him? Had they lied to her? Or had they simply let him fade from her memory?
His thoughts fled as the three of them came down the moving stairs. Cecil and Annie looked much the way he remembered, but perhaps more careworn. Clara, dressed in a blue quilted coat, had lost her baby plumpness and sprouted long legs. Her features were more defined, her eyes large and dark, her long hair brushed into a ponytail. In her arms, she clutched her favorite stuffed toy, a fluffy white cat she’d named Snowflake. Rush remembered it well. He had given it to her for her third birthday.
At least she’d kept it and brought it with her.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Rush stepped forward and Clara spotted him. Breaking away from her protectors, she raced toward him and flung herself into his arms.
“Daddy!” she cried, clinging to his jacket as he swung her around.
Rush felt his heart shatter.
Looking beyond her, he saw Cecil and Annie coming toward him. There was nothing but sympathy in their eyes—they knew why Rush had left. And they knew that there was no way he could keep Clara beyond this bittersweet holiday season.
Cecil broke the silence. “Thanks for helping us out,” he said. “She’s been asking every fifteen minutes when we were going to get here.”
Rush found his voice. “Come on, let’s get your luggage. Then I’ll drop you off wherever you need to go.”
They picked up the bags from the carousel and headed outside to the car. Rush had stopped at a big-box store along the way to buy a booster seat for Clara. Annie buckled her in and took a seat beside her in the back. Cecil sat in the front seat beside Rush to give him directions.
“You can drop Annie off at the hospital,” he said. “I’ll go to the house, leave our suitcases there, and drive the family station wagon back to the hospital.”
“How’s your father-in-law doing?” Rush asked him. “Any news?”
“I called this morning. He’s stable, but he’ll have a long road ahead of him. Physical therapy, speech therapy . . . He’s a tough old man. I hope he’s up to it. I don’t know how long we’ll need to stay here, or even if we’ll be able to go back to our jobs.”
“Keep me posted,” Rush said. “I’ll need to know when Sonya and Andre will be back and how you plan to get Clara home.”
Cecil shrugged. “I can’t answer any of that now. I’m just grateful to you for taking her. It must not have been an easy decision.”
“It wasn’t painless, but it wasn’t hard,” Rush said. “There’s no way I would’ve turned you down.”
“Then we’ll take this one day at a time,” Cecil said. “I know you’ll do what’s best for her.”
“I’ll try,” Rush said. But how could he be sure? When the time came to send her back home, he knew that he could stand the pain because he understood it. But what about Clara? She’d cried the first time he left, too young to understand the reason why. Would she understand this time? Was she old enough to accept that Andre was her father and Rush was not? Or would the coming separation hurt her all over again?
They left Annie at the hospital and drove Cecil several miles to a small house in a quiet neighborhood, where he unloaded the luggage from the back of the Hummer and promised to keep in touch. Then Rush drove away with Clara in the backseat.
“Can I come up front and sit with you, Daddy?” The word struck Rush like a knife through the heart.
“Nope,” Rush said. “You have to stay in the back.”
“Why?”
“Because it isn’t safe up here, and because it’s the law.”
“Why?”
“Because if I had to stop fast, you could get hurt up here. Are you hungry? We could get something to eat.”
“Can we have hamburgers? And fries? And chocolate shakes?”
Rush had to laugh. “Yes to all three. Just let me find a place.”
He drove down a promising street and found a familiar chain restaurant. “How’s this?” He parked and came around the vehicle to help her out of her booster seat.
“Fine. Can I take Snowflake with me?” She hugged the toy cat with both arms.
“I think Snowflake would be happier in the car,” Rush said. “Look how pretty and white he is. What if you dropped him on the floor or spilled ketchup on him?”
“I don’t like ketchup.”
“Well, he could still get dirty. Or you could put him down and forget to take him back to the car.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Leave him and come on, Clara.” He was still getting used to her new name. “Snowflake can keep the booster seat warm for you.”
“Oh, okay.” She climbed out of the booster seat and put the cat where she’d been sitting. “Let’s go,” she said.
Rush took her hand and let her lead him into the restaurant.
Damn it, but he’d missed her.
In their booth, she took off her coat and let it fall behind her on the seat. Underneath she was wearing a short pink dress that was knit like a sweater, with flowered leggings. Sonya had always dressed her in fussy, girly clothes. She looked adorable in them, but she was going to need something more durable for the ranch.
What if she hated it there? She wasn’t used to cold weather, large animals, mud and snow, or sharing a run-down house, including the bathroom, with three big, gruff men. Keeping this little girl for the holidays could turn out to be a big mistake.
“What would you like on your hamburger?” he asked Clara as the waitress came to take their order.
“Just meat and a bun. You know that, Daddy.”
“Yes, I do.” He gave the rest of the order, wondering whether he should exp
lain that he wasn’t really her daddy. Skip it for now, he decided. Clara was too young to have a clue about the birds and the bees. But hearing her say the word was like a gut punch.
“Annie says you live on a ranch,” Clara said while they waited for their meals. “Will there be cowboys?”
“My two friends are cowboys,” Rush said. “We live together in an old house. It isn’t fancy like your house in Phoenix, but we have a good time there, sort of like camping out. You’ll have fun.” I hope.
“Do you have horses? Can I ride one?”
“We have two huge horses named Chip and Patch. But we don’t ride them. They’re too big for that. We use them to pull the hay wagon in the summer and the sleigh in the winter.”
“You’ve got a sleigh?” Her eyes grew large. “Like Santa Claus?”
“Exactly like Santa Claus.” He gave her a smile across the table. “But we don’t have reindeer. That’s why we have Chip and Patch to pull the sleigh. Just before Christmas the town has a big parade, with Santa riding in our sleigh. You’ll get to see it.” Was he promising too much? What if this visit didn’t work out?
“We have somebody else who rides in the parade,” Rush said. “Our dog, Bucket, wears a hat and a little Santa suit and sits on the bench right next to Santa Claus. You’ll meet Bucket when we get to the ranch.”
And he’ll probably jump all over you with his muddy paws. Rush kept that thought to himself.
“Will it be the real Santa in the parade?”
“You can decide for yourself when you see him.” Travis’s father, Hank, had taken over as Branding Iron’s Santa last year. But Rush wasn’t about to reveal that to Clara, who was still a believer.
The waitress brought their burgers, fries, and shakes. Both of them were hungry. They settled into silence as they devoured their food. Clara ate like a little lady, taking dainty bites and drinking her shake without slurping, the way most kids would. Clearly, someone, probably Annie, had taught her proper table manners. Rush couldn’t imagine Sonya having the patience.
He couldn’t help wondering how Clara had adjusted to Andre. Did she call him Daddy, too? But there was no point in wondering, Rush reminded himself. All that mattered was knowing she was happy and well cared for.
“Why did you go away, Daddy?” The question came out of nowhere, slamming into him with the force of a fist.
“Because your mom wanted to marry Andre.”
“But why didn’t you come back and see me?”
That was a tough one. Rush groped for the right words, not wanting to put the blame on her mother. “Because I knew I’d be sad when I had to leave you again. I was afraid you might be sad, too.”
“But I would have been happy that you came.” Her words were too wise for her years. She broke his heart.
He put money on the table to cover their bill and the tip. “If you’ve finished eating, let’s get on the road. It would be nice to get to the ranch before your bedtime.”
“Okay. I’m done.” She slipped into her coat by herself and took his hand as they walked out to the parking lot. Snowflake was waiting on the booster seat. She picked up the toy, snuggling it close.
“I’ll bet you could learn to buckle yourself in,” Rush said. “Let me hold Snowflake while you try.”
He gave her instructions, showing her where the straps crossed and how the buckles fastened. When she made a mistake, he corrected her gently. Rush had always loved teaching her things. Clara was a quick and eager learner, but it took her a good ten minutes to master the complicated harness. When she finally did it right, he clapped and cheered for her. “That’s my big girl,” he said. “Now you’ll always know how to do it.”
She grinned and held out her arms for Snowflake. “Let’s go, Daddy,” she said. “I want to see your ranch.”
Rush closed the door, climbed into the driver’s side, and started the Hummer’s powerful engine. “Don’t expect anything fancy, like your place,” he said. “My ranch is a working ranch. The house and barn are old. My partners and I are fixing them up as best we can, but that takes time and money.”
“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment. “Can I play with the animals on your ranch?”
“The cows and horses are too big to play with,” Rush said. “They could hurt you, even if they didn’t mean to. But you can play with Bucket.”
“Is he a puppy?”
“No, he’s a grown-up dog. We don’t even know how old he is.”
“Why don’t you know? Doesn’t he have a birthday?”
“Dogs don’t have birthdays.”
“Some dogs do. I saw one on TV. He even had a cake.”
“Okay. But Bucket doesn’t have one.”
“We could give him one.”
“Maybe.” Rush decided to change the subject. “Do you have any pets at home?”
“I can’t have a pet. Andre’s allergic.”
“That’s too bad.” Rush remembered how she’d loved the small pets that had come to his clinic.
“Will Bucket be happy to see me?”
“He will. He’s a friendly dog. But he’s not a little dog. He’s more like middle-sized. He gets dirty, so you won’t want to hold him. But he loves to chase sticks, and he’s really smart. He even helps us herd the cows and horses.”
“Do you have snow . . . ?” She spoke through a yawn.
“Sometimes.”
“Can we have music on the radio?”
“Sure.” Rush found an easy listening station that played Christmas music. The strains of “The Little Drummer Boy” drifted from the speakers. He kept the volume low.
The next time he glanced in the rearview mirror, Clara was asleep.
Chapter 5
It was almost twilight when Rush turned off the highway south of Branding Iron and drove down the narrow lane toward home. The last rays of sunset gleamed on the snow as they drove through the ranch gate. By now, Clara was wide awake. She bounced and squirmed in her booster seat, looking out the window and peppering Rush with questions.
“Are we here?”
“Where are the horses? Where’s Bucket?”
“Can we play in the snow?”
“Where will I sleep?”
Tired as he was, Rush answered each question as patiently as he could. But the last one had him stumped. Before leaving, he’d had no chance to get her a bed. Unless his partners had taken care of the problem, he would spend the night on the sofa, while Clara slept in his bed. “We’ll see,” was all he said.
As he pulled the Hummer up to the house, the porch light came on. He climbed wearily to the snowy ground, retrieved her suitcase from the back of the vehicle, and came around to open the door and help the little girl out of her booster seat. She clung to his coat with one hand, clasping Snowflake with the other.
“Oh!” She gazed at the snow, seeing it up close for the first time. “It looks so soft and fluffy. Can I touch it, Daddy?”
“Hang on.” Setting the suitcase on the porch, Rush scooped a handful of snow off the railing and held it for her. She let go of his coat and poked it with a small, pink finger.
“It’s cold!” She giggled, pulling her finger away, then poking it again. “Does it taste good?”
“It tastes cold and wet, like ice, and it might not be good for you.” Rush tossed the snow away, put Clara down, and picked up her suitcase. “Come on, let’s go inside and meet my friends.”
“Are they nice men?”
“Very nice. Come on.”
She shrank shyly against Rush’s legs, holding Snowflake close as he opened the door and ushered her inside. Travis and Conner were waiting in the kitchen. They greeted her with friendly smiles. “Howdy, Miss Clara.” Conner was all Texas charm, melting away her shyness. “Welcome to the ranch. I’m Conner. Did you have a nice trip?”
“Uh-huh. But it was long.” Clara looked him up and down. “Are you a real cowboy?”
Conner grinned. “I’m as real as they come. Travis here is still learning but he’s co
ming along. Would you like to be a cowgirl?”
“Uh-huh. But not tonight. I’m kind of tired. Where’s my room?”
“We’ve got a little surprise for you,” Conner said. “Do you like camping?”
She glanced up at Rush, then back at Conner. “I don’t know. I’ve seen people camping on TV. It looks fun. But I’ve never done it. Will we camp in the snow?”
“We don’t have to,” Conner said. “Take a look at this! Your very own cozy camp!”
Travis, who’d been blocking her view of the darkened living room, stepped aside and turned on the light to reveal a blue nylon dome tent pitched in a corner. Rush had never seen the tent before. Conner must have brought it in his trailer when he’d moved to the ranch last year.
Clara hesitated, still uncertain. Glancing at his partners’ faces, Rush could tell how much they’d wanted his little girl to like their surprise.
“Come on, let’s look inside.” Rush took her suitcase, held her hand, and led her to the tent. It wasn’t tall enough for an adult to stand full height, but for a child, there was plenty of room. Inside was a sleeping bag with a pillow, laid on a cushiony air mattress. Next to the makeshift bed was a flashlight and a water bottle, with enough space left on the floor for an open suitcase.
“We wanted you to have your own space,” Travis said. “But the house doesn’t have a spare room. So, we thought the tent might work. You can zip the flap shut when you want to close it. Check it out.”
When Clara hesitated, Rush laid her suitcase on the floor of the tent and nudged her inside. She looked around, then sat on the sleeping bag and bounced up and down on the air mattress. Her small face transformed into a grin. “I like it!” she said. “It’s like my own little house!”
Rush could see relief in the faces of his partners. Making her feel at home had mattered to them.
“So, take off your coat and stay a while,” Conner said. “Would you like some hot cocoa and cinnamon toast before bedtime?”
“Yes, please.” Clara’s manners were impeccable. She was a little princess who’d landed among rough-living cowboys, like Snow White wandering into the cottage of the dwarves.
