by Janet Dailey
“I tried. But Sonya wanted to create a new family with Andre as the only father and me totally out of the picture. She insisted that having two fathers would only confuse her little girl.”
“But you’ve got Clara now.”
“That was a fluke. When she gets home from her cruise, Sonya will probably throw a full-scale hissy fit, and the next person I hear from will be her lawyer.”
Tracy was looking at him as if she had something to say. Her lips parted. Then, with a slight shake of her head, she pressed her mouth into a tight line.
“What is it?” Rush asked.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
He would have pressed her for more, but just then Clara walked into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Her face lit with a happy little smile when she saw him. “Hi, Daddy. Did you see the cookies we made you?”
“I saw them and tasted them. They were yummy. Thanks.”
Clara looked at the table. “Where’s my letter?”
“I’ve got it in my pocket,” Rush said. “When we get home to the ranch, I’ll put a stamp on it. Then you can put it in the mailbox.”
“Can’t we take it to the post office? Santa will get it faster that way.”
“Sure. In fact, I was planning to take you to Buckaroo’s for burgers and shakes. The post office is right on the way.” Rush glanced at Tracy. “You’re invited, too,” he said.
She shook her head. “Thanks, but Maggie is coming by later to bring me her spare ball gowns. I’ve got things to do before then.”
“There’ll be another time.” Rush masked his disappointment with a smile. There never seemed to be enough time for the two of them. “I hope you’ll take a rain check.”
“Certainly. Here’s a box of cookies to take home and share with your partners.”
“Thanks. And thanks for helping out this morning.” He took the cookies from her, knowing the busiest season at the ranch was just beginning. Travis and Conner were going to need his help. He’d have little time for the woman whose company he’d come to crave. “Get your coat, Clara.”
“Can I say good-bye to the kittens first?”
“If you don’t take too long.”
She raced back to the laundry room and disappeared inside, leaving Rush and Tracy alone. “Thanks again,” he said, wishing he could say more. He’d already begun to dream of a future with her, raising a family here in Branding Iron and growing old together, enjoying their grandchildren.... But it was far too soon to bring that up. The dream would have to wait.
“Good luck with Christmas,” she said. “You’re going to need it.”
“Thanks,” he said. “The next couple of weeks are going to be crazy at the ranch, but I’ll call you.”
“It’s fine. I understand. I’ll be here.”
“Come on, Clara,” he called. “I promised to help Travis and Conner this afternoon. We need to go.”
“Okay.” She closed the laundry room door and came skipping back down the hall. “You should see those kittens, Daddy! They’re already getting out of the box and eating food. They’re so cute, and Snowflake is the cutest one of all!”
Rush helped her with her coat. “Let’s go. Burgers and shakes are waiting.” He ushered her out the door, pausing to give Tracy a backward wave.
* * *
Tracy stood at the window and watched them drive away. Had she made a mistake by not telling Rush what she’d learned online? Since there was nothing he could do, would it be fair or cruel to give him a glimmer of empty hope?
For a moment, when he’d talked about losing Clara, she’d been tempted to tell him. But then Clara had awakened and come into the kitchen, settling the question for now. Sooner or later, especially if they parted company, he would need to know. But she would wait for a better time.
Making cookies with Clara had been a riot, but the kitchen was a disaster site of unwashed bowls, cups, and cookie cutters, spilled flour, broken eggs, and sticky spots on the floor. Maggie had mentioned that she might get off work early. Tracy knew that Branding Iron’s mayor wouldn’t mind a messy kitchen. Still, she couldn’t help wanting to make a good impression.
Summoning her energy, she flung herself into loading the dishwasher, wiping up spills, taking out the trash, and mopping the floor. From there, she moved on to tidying the house, fluffing a pillow, dusting a table, putting a magazine away. By then her phone was ringing. Maggie was on her way.
Minutes later, when Tracy answered the door, Maggie breezed in with her arms full of gowns. “I hope one of these will do,” she said, laying them over the back of a chair. “I’m a big girl, at least two sizes larger than you are, so it might take some stitching. Do you sew?”
“Nothing fancy. I don’t have a machine, but I can thread a needle and baste a hem.”
“That’ll do.” Maggie said. “Heavens, it smells wonderful in here.”
“Clara and I were baking cookies this morning, before Rush picked her up. I put a box aside for you to take home. Would you like to have some, with a cup of coffee?”
“Let’s try the gowns first.” Maggie slipped off her jacket and tossed it on the coatrack. “I was just going to leave them, but I’ve got some time and, if you don’t mind, I thought it would be fun to see how you look in them. I brought all three of mine, just in case.”
“These are beautiful.” Tracy lifted each gown from the stack. “Did you make them yourself?”
Maggie laughed. “Hardly. There are women in town who make their Christmas money sewing Western ball gowns. But you have to get your order in a couple of months early. You might want to think about that for next year.”
Tracy sighed. “Maggie, I have no idea whether I’ll even be here next year.”
Maggie looked startled. “But you and Rush—everyone who knows you both is hoping you’ll get together. The two of you make such a great couple. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing right now. But there are . . . complications.”
“Anything you want to talk about? You can count on me to keep things to myself.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got a lot to work out,” Tracy said. “For now, you can help me try on these lovely gowns.” She scooped them up in her arms and headed back toward her bedroom.
Following her, Maggie passed Murphy, dozing in his bed. The old dog raised his head and thumped his tail as she bent to pet him. “Hello, old guy. You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you?” She rose. “I didn’t know you had a dog, Maggie.”
“He was Steve’s dog. Steve had him longer than he had me.”
“He’s precious,” Maggie said. “I like dogs.”
“I’ve got cats, too, if you’re interested.”
“I know about the kittens. But as I mentioned before, I’m not a cat person. If you have any that aren’t spoken for, I’ll spread the word.”
“There’s just one, not counting the white one Clara has her heart set on. He’s a little black boy. Full of mischief. Somebody’s bound to love him.”
“If you want, I can put up a notice at work.”
“Thanks. I’ll write one for you. I promised Clara I’d save the white one until Christmas. She’s hoping for a miracle. But if she can’t keep him, he’ll be available, too.” Tracy spread the three gowns on her bed. “Oh, these are gorgeous. I can’t believe you’re letting me borrow one.”
Maggie gave her a smile. “What are friends for?”
The words touched Tracy with unexpected sweetness. She’d needed a friend—and the friend she’d needed had pushed through her resistance and found her.
Chapter 11
All three of the gowns were traditional Old West–style, with high necks, long sleeves, and nipped-in waists. “I have to wear a corset to look good in mine,” Maggie said. “Something tells me you won’t need that.”
Tracy slipped the first dress over her head. It was a sky blue calico with little yellow flowers and a wide ruffle at the bottom that trailed on the floor when she walked. Maggie stood behi
nd her as she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror.
“Great color on you,” Maggie said. “But it’s too big in the waist, and that ruffle would take forever to shorten. Try the green.”
Maggie unzipped the back of the dress, helped Tracy out of it, and handed her the deep jade green gown with black piping. Tracy held it up in front of her. “I don’t need to try this on,” she said. “This is your gown, Maggie. It’s your color and cut to fit your curves. I’ll bet you look just stunning in it.”
“I just brought it for fun, and to give you a choice.” Maggie smiled. “All right, one gown to go, and I’ve saved the best for last. I wore this when I was in high school, and it’s hung in the back of the closet for years. It doesn’t fit me anymore, but I’m betting it will almost fit you.” She lifted a lavender gown, trimmed with ecru lace, from the bed.
“I don’t know what I was thinking, with that color and my red hair,” she said, slipping the gown over Tracy’s head. “But it’ll be perfect on you.”
Tracy gazed at her reflection as Maggie zipped the back of the lavender gown. She looked like someone from a long-past time, with the gauzy fabric floating around her and the high lace collar framing her face.
“Yes!” Maggie took Tracy’s hair, twisted it into a high pompadour, and held it there for effect. “Perfect,” she said. “You’ll just need to take up the hem a few inches. Since I’ll never get into it again, it’s yours.”
“Thank you! I can’t believe you’d give me this. I love it!” Tracy twirled in front of the mirror. “Now, what do you say we take it off and go have some cookies?”
“That sounds wonderful. And I’ve just got time before I need to go.”
Maggie helped her out of the gown and waited while Tracy dressed in her jeans and sweatshirt. Her gaze fell on Steve’s photo, next to the bed. “I still remember him,” she said. “I didn’t know him very well, but he was a real gentleman, and so good-looking.” She gave Tracy a knowing look. “You mentioned complications with Rush. Does Steve happen to be one of them?”
Tracy sighed as she laid the lavender dress carefully over the back of a chair. “I’m afraid so. But there’s more involved than that. With Steve, it’s a matter of when to let go and move on. And yes, I’m having trouble with that. But there are other issues, things I can’t change.”
Maggie gathered up the two remaining gowns. “Let me put these by the front door, where I won’t forget them,” she said. “Then we can go in the kitchen.”
“I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee,” Tracy said.
“That sounds wonderful.” Maggie strode back to the living room and laid the gowns on the chair nearest the door.
In the kitchen, Tracy started a fresh pot of coffee. “Come see the kittens while we’re waiting,” she said. I know you’re not a cat person. Neither was I until the little pregnant mother showed up on my doorstep.”
“Okay, but don’t try to give me one.” Maggie followed her down the hall to the laundry room, where they found Rainbow in the box, nursing her four kittens. “All right, I admit they’re pretty cute,” she said.
“It’s the white one Clara wants,” Tracy said.
“I know. Travis says that kitten is all she talks about.”
“Did Travis tell you why she can’t have him?”
Maggie shook her head.
“She can’t take the kitten home to Phoenix because Andre, her father, is allergic. And she can’t keep the kitten at the ranch because of Bucket.”
“Bucket? No way,” Maggie said. “I knew the man who gave him to Travis. Bucket was raised with an old cat who eventually died. They were best friends. Bucket should be fine with a cat. But the kitten would have to stay inside at the ranch. Coyotes, foxes, hawks, and owls would all be after him. And that white coat would make him an easy target.”
“Thanks, I’ll pass that on to Rush. Not that it’ll make much difference if Clara can’t stay with him.”
Should she tell Maggie what she’d learned about the loophole she’d discovered online? No, Tracy decided, the first one to be told about it should be Rush. “It smells like the coffee’s ready,” she said. “Let’s go sit down. I hope you like homemade sugar cookies.”
“I love homemade sugar cookies.” Maggie followed her back to the kitchen and took a seat at the table. “It smells like Christmas in your house. But it doesn’t look like Christmas.”
“Just call me Scrooge,” Tracy said. “I used to do a tree and hang lights on the porch, but after Steve died, I boxed up all the decorations and put them in the attic.”
“Maybe it’s time to get them down,” Maggie said as Tracy poured her coffee and put a platter of cookies on the table between them. “Surely Rush and Clara will be spending time here. Think how much they’d enjoy having a nice tree. And you wouldn’t have to decorate it alone. They could help you, or at least Clara could. She’d love that.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” Tracy stirred creamer into her coffee.
“You really should do it. I can see how much Rush likes you. I know he misses being part of a family, especially at Christmas. And this year, with his little girl here, you could make it special for them. Like family.”
Tracy could feel something crumbling inside her. “Don’t,” she whispered. “I know you mean well, Maggie, but just don’t, all right?”
Maggie’s lips parted in a little gasp. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, Tracy. Me and my big mouth. What did I say that was wrong?”
“Nothing, really. It’s not your fault.” Tracy felt the dam that held back her emotions giving way. “It’s just that . . . I can’t do the family thing with Rush. I can’t even go through the motions, pretending. It would be a lie.”
“I still don’t understand,” Maggie said.
“I know that Rush wants a family of his own. When I see how he is with Clara, I can just imagine what a great dad he’d be with his own children. But I can’t give him what he wants.”
“Are you sure?” Maggie’s hand reached out and rested on her arm.
“Steve and I tried for years to have a baby. Nothing worked. The doctors checked us both out. He was fine. The problem was with me and only me. Maggie, I can’t give Rush the family he deserves. I can’t have children.”
Maggie’s eyes were wells of sympathy. Her hand tightened on Tracy’s arm. “And you haven’t told Rush?”
“It’s never come up. There’s never been a good time. And I’m afraid that when Rush finds out, especially after my keeping it from him this long, he’ll walk away.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Rush I know. I certainly won’t tell him. But I think you should.” Maggie paused. “Do you love him?”
“I could if I let myself. That’s why I need to tell him the truth, even if it means losing him, which it probably will.”
“Tracy, there’s more than one way to become a parent,” Maggie said. “There’s always adoption. And there are new medical procedures—”
“And there are attractive, fertile women in this town who’d jump at the chance to do it the old-fashioned way. In all fairness, I should step aside and give them a chance. After what happened with Clara, Rush deserves children of his own.”
Maggie glanced at her watch, finished her coffee, and rose from her chair. “I need to go,” she said. “But give Rush the benefit of the doubt. Tell him. The longer you wait, the harder it will be.”
Tracy walked her friend to the door. “Call me anytime you need to talk,” Maggie said, gathering up the spare gowns. “I mean it. I’m here for you, Tracy.”
“I know you are. Thank you so much.” Tracy hugged her and watched her drive away. Maggie was right. She’d already kept her secret from Rush for too long. She had to take a chance. She had to tell him.
But when would she find the time and the courage?
* * *
A few days had passed since Rush had mailed Clara’s letter to Santa. He’d taken her into the post office with him, bought stamps, and let her drop the envelope into
the slot. “Do you think Santa will read it?” she’d asked him.
“Santa reads everything,” he’d replied. But even if Santa were real, with the power to fly through the air and deliver presents to every child on earth, there was no way he could give Clara what she wanted for Christmas.
Rush had racked his brain trying to figure out a way to make her happy. Bringing the kitten to the ranch wasn’t out of the question, especially since Travis had passed on Maggie’s news that Bucket would be fine with a cat. But Clara wouldn’t be able to take Snowflake back to Phoenix, and that would break her heart.
As for the rest, short of begging Sonya on his knees, which Rush was prepared to do, his hands were tied.
With Christmas a little more than two weeks away, the season peak that could make or break the tree business was upon the ranch. People from all over the county were swarming to Hank’s tree lot or out to the ranch to buy fresh, fragrant trees that had been cut within the past few days. Keeping the supply in stock was a full-time job for the partners, and Rush had his vet practice calls to make as well.
Fortunately, Clara had made friends with the family on the neighboring ranch. Jubal and Gracie McFarland had a nine-year-old daughter, a two-year-old boy, a baby, and a little white poodle that Clara had loved on sight. The McFarlands were happy to include her in their lively family while Rush was working. And Rush would repay them the next time one of their animals needed care.
Busy as he was, Rush called Tracy almost every day, even if the call was little more than a quick hello. They hadn’t seen each other since the day he’d picked up Clara at her house. He found himself missing her even more than he’d expected to. That was why, when a midday cancellation came up, Rush jumped at the chance to spend some time with her.
“How about a quick lunch date?” he asked when she picked up his call. “The crowd at Buckaroo’s should be thinning out by now.”
He sensed a beat of hesitation before she replied. But when she said, “Hey, that sounds great. I’m starved,” he dismissed his worry.
“I’ll be by in about ten minutes,” he said.
