by Janet Dailey
Clara would be going home sometime after Christmas, pending arrangements with her mother and Andre. When Tracy thought about her leaving, and what the separation would mean to both her and Rush, her heart ached for them.
Conner and Travis came in hungry. They pounced on the cinnamon rolls Tracy had brought, taking big bites and washing them down with cold milk. “These are heavenly!” Conner declared, reaching for his third helping. “Rush, if you let this woman get away, you deserve to have your head examined.”
By now, Tracy had learned to ignore Conner’s teasing. But she couldn’t help wondering where things were going with her and Rush. In the weeks she’d known him, it was as if he’d brought her back to life—as if he’d freed her to feel emotions she’d believed to be buried forever.
And yet, how much did she know about this man? How much did he know about her? What hidden secrets were waiting to surface and tear them apart?
She would be wise to guard her heart and be prepared.
“It’s time I was going,” she said, zipping her parka. “Keep the rest of the cinnamon rolls. I’ll get the pan later.”
“Thanks,” Travis said. “Believe me, they won’t last long.”
Clara ran to her for a hug and a good-night kiss. “I’ll walk you out to your car,” Rush said, grabbing his jacket off the coatrack. “You’ll want to hang on to me. It’s slippery out there.”
He gave her his arm as they stepped out onto the front porch. A passing snow flurry had moved in from the west. Big, lazy white flakes drifted from the sky. They settled on Rush’s dark hair as he guided her down the icy steps. Tracy clung to his side, feeling his solid strength. I could get used to this, she thought.
When they reached her car, he turned and took her in his arms. “Damn, that feels good,” he muttered. “I could spend all night holding you like this, except—” He gave a rough laugh. “Just holding you wouldn’t be enough.”
Tracy understood. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. Beneath the open front of his jacket, his shirt was damp from washing Bucket. “You smell like wet dog,” she teased.
“So do you.” His arms tightened around her. “Blast it, woman, when are we going to get some serious time alone?”
She looked up at him. “Something tells me it won’t be until after the holidays. So we might as well relax and enjoy the fun while it lasts.”
“Things will be crazy between now and this Saturday. I’d like to take you to the brunch, but we’ll be busy getting the sleigh and the team to town for the parade. It’ll be my job to load and unload the horses and drive their trailer.”
“Why don’t you let me pick up Clara and take her to the brunch? Then I can drive her to the parade.”
“That’s a nice thought,” Travis said. “But I promised her a special surprise. For that, she’ll need to be home with us Saturday morning. I can meet you on Main Street before the parade starts. We can watch it together before I have to go back and reload the horses.”
“I’d love that. I’ve never watched the parade. You’re sure you’ll have time?”
“Once the sleigh’s in line for the parade, I’ll be free to come and meet you. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”
“Well, then, I have another idea. Why don’t I pick up Clara’s princess costume and take her home with me after the parade? Once she’s had time to play and nap, we can get ready for the Christmas Ball together. You know, sort of a girly thing.”
“I like girly things.” He nuzzled her hair. “Especially yours.”
“But what do you think of my suggestion?”
“It’s a grand idea. She’ll love it. Then I can pick up my princess and my queen at seven o’clock and take them to the ball. I’ll be the luckiest man there.”
The snow was coming down harder now, swirling around them. He bent his head and kissed her—a slow, dizzying kiss that Tracy felt all the way to the tips of her toes. “You’d better get going,” he said, opening the car door for her. Tracy slid into the driver’s seat.
“Be careful on the road,” he said, closing the door. “I love you, Tracy.”
As she drove away, Tracy could see him in her rearview mirror, standing in the driveway with snow falling around him. Had he meant for her to hear him as he closed the door? Had he really said he loved her, or had she only imagined it?
She’d be a fool to believe what she’d barely heard, Tracy told herself. But the thought that the words might be true made her heart sing.
She turned on her wipers to clear the falling snow. “I love you, too,” she whispered into the darkness. “I love you, Rush.”
* * *
On Friday, Tracy picked up Clara at the ranch for a visit to the mall in Cottonwood Springs. Rush’s Hummer had been missing when she arrived. He’d let her know earlier that he’d be gone, freeing and doctoring a bull that had been caught in a tangle of barbed wire half buried in the deep snow. “Wish me luck,” he’d told her on the phone. “This isn’t going to be an easy job.”
As she drove north, Tracy tried not to think about the danger he could be in. A powerful bull, trapped and in pain, could do a lot of damage to anyone who got too close. Would Rush subdue it with a tranquilizer dart before cutting the wire? Would there be men to hold the huge animal with ropes? What if the bull got loose?
Never mind, she told herself. Rush knew his job. He would be fine. Meanwhile, he’d left her his credit card, with orders to have a good time and buy Clara whatever she liked.
“We’ve got a big mall in Phoenix.” Clara spoke from the safety of her booster seat. “It’s got a merry-go-round and a huge food court and a place to see movies.”
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 adorabl
e 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.
The parade, scheduled to begin at 10:00, started at the high school parking lot, continued down Main Street to the last stoplight going south, then turned around at the intersection with the highway and went back in the other direction. Nobody minded that the procession went both ways. Seeing everything twice made the fun last twice as long.
By 9:15 Tracy was ready to go, dressed in a festive red sweater, jeans, boots, and her warm parka. Leaving the car on a side street, she walked the short distance to the city park, a good spot for parade watching.
Rush had arranged to meet her next to the World War II monument, a tall block of native stone with a flagpole on top and a bronze plaque listing the names of Branding Iron’s veterans. The sidewalks along the parade route were already crowded, with people staking out the best spots. Even families from Cottonwood Springs—a bigger town, but with no parade of its own—enjoyed coming to Branding Iron for some old-fashioned Christmas spirit.
It was early yet. Tracy didn’t expect Rush to meet her until almost parade time. But as she strolled through the milling crowd, she spotted several people she knew. Maureen, the receptionist in the courthouse, gave her a friendly wave. “Can I come tomorrow and get that little black kitten?” she asked.
“Can you wait till later in the day?” Tracy asked. “Dr. Rushford is coming tomorrow to give the kittens their vaccinations. Then they’ll be ready to go.”
“Sure,” Maureen said. “I’ll call before I come.”
Tracy sighed as she walked on. She was going to miss those kittens. Over the past week, they’d become little holy terrors, racing through the house, climbing on everything. But they were so cute and so much fun. Unless Clara got her miracle, Tracy realized she’d likely be keeping Snowflake. Clara would never forgive her if she gave the white kitten away. At least he was the calm one.
But he really belonged to Clara. Tracy knew it. Clara knew it. Maybe even Snowflake knew it.
Through the crowd, she could see Katy and Daniel walking hand in hand. Daniel would be picking up Tiger before Christmas. Sweet, loving Katy would adore the little tabby girl.
Only as they passed her did Tracy notice someone walking with them—a young woman she’d never seen before.
She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, slim as a willow, with long brown hair and striking dark eyes. But it was her clothes that drew Tracy’s attention. She was dressed in faded jeans with tooled leather cowboy boots that came almost to her knees. Over a black turtleneck, she wore a buckskin jacket that looked like something salvaged from a rock star, with trailing fringe on the yokes and sleeves, and exquisite beading down the front. A weathered Stetson shaded her face. On anyone else, the outfit would have been too much. But the young woman wore it with such elegance and flair that she made a stunning picture.
Tracy looked away for a moment. When she looked back, Daniel, Katy, and the mysterious stranger were nowhere in sight.
She glanced at her watch. Rush could be showing up any minute. She hurried back to the monument to find him waiting for her. He grinned and caught her hand. “Come on, the parade’s about to start.”
“Where’s Clara?” Tracy asked.
“You’ll see. Come on.” He led her to a good vantage point, standing behind a family who’d brought chairs. The Christmas music on the public address speakers had gone silent. From up the street they could hear the beat of a snare drum as the flag came into sight, carried by the members of the American Legion. Everyone stood and placed their hands over their hearts. When the flag had passed, Rush moved behind Tracy and wrapped his arms around her. The feeling was pure joy, being with a man who wouldn’t hesitate to show the whole town that she was his woman.
At a respectful distance behind the flag came a white convertible with local and visiting dignitaries—the lieutenant governor, the county commissioners, and Maggie, bundled into a dark green coat. Catching sight of Rush and Tracy, she grinned and blew them a kiss.
Tracy remembered their talk two days ago. Over coffee and pie at Buckaroo’s, she’d given Maggie a copy of the obscure Arizona law she’d found online. “Rush needs to have this,” Maggie had said.
“Maybe later,” Tracy had replied. “Right now I don’t want to give him false hope. But somebody else needs to be aware of this, in case I’m not around later on. Sometime—maybe years from now—it could be useful. Just not now.”
“I can’t say I agree.” Maggie had frowned and shaken her head. “I think you should just give it to Rush. But I’ll respect your decision and keep this somewhere safe—for now.”
The memory faded as she and Rush settled in to watch the parade. The Branding Iron High School Marching Band was playing Christmas music—more than a little off-key, but nobody seemed to mind. The local businesses had decorated simple floats, some with pretty teenage girls riding on them. Volunteers dressed as elves scampered along the sidelines, throwing wrapped candies to the kids.
At the sound of sleigh bells, a stir of excitement passed
through the crowd. Children peered up the street, some of them jumping up and down. Parents lifted the little ones to their shoulders for a better view.
Santa was coming.
Branding Iron wasn’t much of a town, and the Christmas parade was no grand spectacle. But the Branding Iron Santa, in a real sleigh, pulled by massive draft horses with real brass bells on their harnesses, was pure magic. There was no better Santa in the state, maybe in the whole country. And now he was coming down the street, the sleigh gliding on a layer of hard-packed snow.
Standing on tiptoe, Tracy could see the sleigh. Hank, who’d taken over the job last year, was a magnificent Santa. Waving at the crowd, smiling at the children, he radiated genuine Christmas joy. Bucket, on his best behavior, sat beside Hank, wearing a miniature red cape and Santa hat.
Conner, in full cowboy gear, drove the team from the low front bench. Next to him, smiling and waving in her red parka, was Clara.
“Look at her! She’s having the time of her life!” Tracy waved back, as did Rush. “What a wonderful idea! She’ll remember this forever!”
“I hope so.” There was a note of sadness in Rush’s voice. Understanding, Tracy squeezed his hand.
* * *
After the parade, Rush handed Clara over to Tracy, who would take the little girl home, feed her, and give her a chance to rest before dressing for the ball.
Free now to work, Rush hurried over to help Conner lift the heavy harnesses from Chip and Patch. The huge geldings stood patiently as the buckles were unfastened, the collars lifted away. They seemed to know that warm, dry stalls and an extra helping of oats awaited them back at the ranch.
Conner, usually low-key, was as excited as Rush had ever seen him. “Rush, I saw this girl in the crowd! Lord help me, I could’ve wrecked the sleigh looking at her. She knocked my socks off! Then she was gone, and there was nothing I could do.”