by Janet Dailey
Rush shook his head. “I can’t believe this. You’ve always been Mr. Cool around the ladies. What’s gotten into you?”
“If you’d seen her, you’d know. Brunette, dark eyes, long hair, wearing a Stetson and this ungodly fringed leather coat. I’ve never seen her before. Now it’s almost like she was a mirage—like I imagined her.”
“Well, maybe you’ll see her at the ball tonight,” Rush said. “Even if she’s not there, you’re bound to have a good time. You’ve never suffered from a lack of female attention.”
“I know. But when I saw her, it was like being kicked by a mule. You and Travis have got your women. Maybe she’s the one for me.”
“Or maybe not.” Rush laughed. “All I can do is wish you good luck.”
They laid the priceless harness carefully in the bed of Travis’s pickup and led the horses up the ramp into the big double trailer. Travis had taken Conner’s Jeep to drive Hank home, where he would help him out of the Santa costume. Once the horses and their gear were put away, Rush and Conner would return with the truck to hitch up the flatbed with the sleigh and tow it home. After that, the partners could relax and look forward to the Christmas Ball.
Bucket was waiting for them inside the cab of the truck. He greeted them with wags and dog kisses. “Good job today, boy,” Rush said. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
* * *
By 6:15 that evening, rested, shaved, showered, and decked out in their finest Old West duds, the partners were ready for the Christmas Ball. Since Maggie needed to be at the gym early, Travis had already left to pick her up. Conner was going stag, but he’d offered to pick up some extra napkins, paper plates, and utensils from Shop Mart, so he’d left early, too. Only Rush remained to close up the house. He glanced around to give the place a quick once-over before leaving. Clara had left her pillow on the floor outside the tent, not a good idea with Bucket in the house. He unzipped the tent flap and tossed the pillow inside.
Now, where was Bucket? After that incident with the coyote, the partners had kept a close eye on the dog, only letting him out when someone was around. He must’ve slipped out the door when Travis or Conner left.
It was already dark outside when Rush stepped onto the front porch and turned on the light. “Bucket! Come here, boy!” He called and whistled, cursing silently as he listened in the stillness. He couldn’t go and leave the blasted mutt outside. There was nothing to do but call Tracy, explain, and tell her he might be late.
He was reaching for his phone when Bucket appeared, prancing up the driveway as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He wagged his tail, gave a little yip, and trotted up the steps, into the house.
“You old rascal,” Rush scolded him. “I know you heard me calling, but you didn’t show up till you were good and ready. No treats for you tonight.” He checked the dog’s food and water bowls in the kitchen and turned off the lights except for a lamp in the living room. Leaving, he made sure to lock the front door behind him.
Tracy and Clara were ready and waiting when Rush arrived. Clara, who opened the door for him, looked adorable in her freshly cleaned princess gown, with her silver shoes and sparkly tiara. Tracy had fixed her hair in fancy braids and even put a little dab of pink lipstick on her mouth.
Rush’s pulse skipped when Tracy walked into the room. With her flowing, lace-trimmed lavender gown, upswept hair, and simple pearl earrings, she looked as if she’d stepped out of an old-time portrait. She took his breath away.
“Doesn’t Tracy look beautiful, Daddy?” Clara asked.
“She looks amazing, and so do you.” Rush picked the little girl up and waltzed her around the room. “With you two lovely ladies on my arm tonight, I’ll feel like the luckiest man in town, maybe in the world. Shall we go?”
He made a courtly show of helping them both with their coats and escorting them outside. They’d decided to take Tracy’s car instead of the Hummer. It would be easier for Tracy, climbing in and out with her gown, and Clara’s booster seat was already buckled into the back.
It was barely 7:00 when they walked into the gym and presented their tickets at the door; but the festivities had already started. The buffet tables along one side of the room sagged with donated food—sliced ham and roast turkey with dressing, scalloped potatoes and baked beans, mountains of fresh homemade rolls, a sea of salads, cakes, and pies. No alcohol was the rule, but there were punch bowls and canned sodas in tubs of ice. Families in Western dress were lined up to heap their plates with food and find a place at the tables.
“Are you hungry?” Rush asked.
“I’m not hungry yet,” Tracy said. “But I’m guessing you and Clara might be. Just get me a soda, and I’ll save us a place to sit, while you go through the line.”
They found a quiet spot at the end of a table. Tracy took a seat while Rush found a Diet Coke in the tub and had Clara run it back to her while he saved a place in line.
The gym was decorated for Christmas with a twelve-foot, specially ordered tree in the center. It was trimmed with colored lights, traditional ornaments, and paper decorations made by Branding Iron’s schoolchildren. Strings of red and green crepe paper had been strung from the treetop star to the walls, to make a canopy above the dancers.
Right now, the dance floor was empty. The Badger Hollow Boys, a Nashville band that played for every Christmas Ball, had yet to make an appearance. Rush had seen their bus outside, so he knew they were here. But they would probably wait until 8:00, after the food rush had ebbed, before starting their first set.
Keeping a firm grip on Clara’s hand, Rush surveyed the expanse of tables. A smile tugged at his lips as he spotted Conner, sharing a meal with Ronda May Blackburn. Petite and buxom, with blond curls and a turned-up nose, Ronda May might not be the prettiest girl in town, but she was pretty enough, and way out front in terms of determination. She had set her sights on Conner, and made up her mind to rope, tie, and brand him. Now that she had him cornered, she probably wouldn’t let him out of her sight.
Conner’s mystery woman didn’t seem to be here. Too bad. Rush would have enjoyed the drama. And he would’ve enjoyed teasing Conner tomorrow.
He helped Clara fill her plate, got his own food, and made his way to the table where Tracy waited. By the time they’d finished their meals, the Badger Hollow Boys had walked out onto the makeshift stage and begun warming up.
A few minutes later, they broke into a lilting Texas two-step. Couples were already moving out onto the dance floor. Travis had captured Maggie for a first dance. Daniel and Katy were dancing slowly, looking into each other’s eyes. Francine, in her red saloon girl costume, was strutting her stuff with a cowboy while Hank, who didn’t dance, enjoyed watching her from the sidelines. Ronda May was tugging Conner in that direction.
Knowing Tracy would understand, Rush bowed low before Clara. “May I have the honor of this dance, my princess?” he asked.
Clara giggled and held out her hands. Rush picked her up in his arms, walked onto the floor, and began to dance with her. Clara’s smile was like a sky full of stars.
As the music faded, he carried her back to the table. “There’s a room down the hall where kids can play games and have fun,” he said. “Would you like to go there while I dance with Tracy for a little while?”
“Okay.” Clara looked hesitant. Rush realized that aside from the McFarland kids, she’d spent very little time with other children.
Tracy stood. “I’ll go with you two. Don’t worry, Clara, it’ll be fine. We’ll check on you in a little while.”
They walked her down to the classroom where about fifteen kids were doing crafts, playing board games, and watching videos. The volunteers in charge greeted Clara warmly and seated her at a table with two little girls who were making necklaces out of colored macaroni.
“Do you think she’ll be all right?” Rush asked as they walked back down the hall.
“She’ll be fine. It’ll be good for her,” Tracy said. “Now, what do you say we do some
dancing?”
They made it back to the gym in time for a slow waltz. Holding Tracy in his arms and drifting with the music was as close to heaven as he’d ever been, Rush thought. He wanted a life with this woman and the special family they would find a way to create. It was too early in the relationship to propose, but he would do his best to keep things headed in that direction.
The music ended, and the guitarist of the Badger Hollow Boys stepped up to the microphone. The antiquated P.A. system in the gym was hard to understand, but he seemed to be introducing a new performer. The audience applauded as a figure walked onstage.
Long dark hair, topped by a weathered Stetson, stunning dark eyes, and that fringed, beaded rock star coat . . .
Rush almost laughed out loud. Unbelievable. It was Conner’s dream woman.
“I saw her today,” Tracy whispered. “She was watching the parade.”
Rush guided Tracy toward the foot of the stage. “Conner saw her, too. Come on, I want to watch this up close.”
With his arm around Tracy, Rush scanned the dance floor until he spotted his partner. Conner was staring drop-jawed at the stage. Ronda May was tugging at his arm, wanting his attention and not getting it.
The music started, the bass guitar pumping out a throbbing beat. The stunning singer leaned over the mike and broke into a cover of the old Patsy Cline hit “Walkin’ After Midnight.”
The audience, who’d stopped dancing to listen, applauded wildly. As the clapping faded, she gave them a smile, nodded to the band, and began to sing “Jolene.”
She was pretty good, Rush conceded. Not Patsy Cline or Dolly Parton good, but good enough for Branding Iron on a Saturday night. She’d chosen great songs, and the audience seemed to love her.
Rush kept an eye on Conner. With Ronda May hanging on to him like an anchor, the man was visibly suffering. It was a pleasure to watch him.
The mystery woman sang two more songs, then walked off the stage and vanished. As the applause faded, the band took up a lively dance tune. Ronda May had pulled Conner back onto the dance floor. Short of shoving her away—and he was too much of a gentleman for that—Conner was helpless to go after the woman who’d cast a spell on him.
“We should check on Clara,” Tracy said.
They walked back up the hallway to the room where the children were being entertained. When she saw them in the doorway, Clara ran to meet them.
“Look at the necklace I made!” Eyes sparkling, she showed them the string of macaroni that hung around her neck. “I’m making a bracelet now. And I have a new friend. Her name’s Brandy.”
“It sounds like you’re having a good time,” Tracy said. “Are you ready to go home yet?”
“Do we have to go now? I want to stay and play a little longer. Okay?”
“Okay,” Rush said. “We’ll give you another half hour. By then it’ll be past your bedtime.”
He caught Tracy’s hand as they hurried back down the hall. “Another half hour to dance with you. Let’s not waste a single minute of it.”
By the time they went back to get Clara, she was tired. Her new friend had already gone home, so she didn’t mind leaving. Rush carried her outside. By the time they made it to Tracy’s car, she was almost asleep.
At Tracy’s he transferred the booster seat to the Hummer and buckled Clara into it before he turned back to Tracy. She melted into his arms for a lingering kiss. “This was a perfect evening,” she murmured.
“Yes, it was. Thank you.” He kissed her again for good measure. “I’ll see you in the morning when I come to vaccinate the kittens.”
“I’ll have breakfast ready for you,” she said.
He left her and drove back to the ranch, humming Christmas songs along with the radio. Things couldn’t have gone better tonight. Dancing with Tracy in his arms had been a dream. He was already looking forward to seeing her tomorrow. And Clara had enjoyed a grand time, too.
A smile tugged at his lips. He could hardly wait to hear what Conner had to say about finding his dream woman.
Travis’s truck and Conner’s Jeep were still gone from the driveway. The house was as he’d left it, with the porch light on and no sign of activity inside. Clara was awake. He could hear her unfastening her safety belt. He climbed out of the Hummer and went around to lift her out of the booster seat.
“Come on, princess, time for bed.” He carried her up the steps, opened the front door with his free hand, and stopped short, frozen in shock.
By lamplight, the living room was a disaster. Clothes and bedding spilled out through the open tent flap and lay strung across the floor. Hunks of scattered white fuzz clung to the furniture and the rug.
“Oh, no!” Clara raced into the room when he put her down. “No, no, no!”
She picked up something off the floor that looked to Rush like a lumpy white rag. His heart sank as he recognized it. It was the ripped outer covering of Snowflake, her beloved toy cat.
Bucket!
But even then, Rush knew that this mess wasn’t Bucket’s fault. It was the nature of a dog to scatter, play, and chew on things. The real fault was his own. In his hurry to leave tonight, he had left Clara’s tent flap unzipped, with Bucket alone in the house.
Clutching the ragged remains of her favorite toy, Clara began to cry—not just her usual sniffling sobs, but a full-blown wail of childish grief that went on and on.
Heartsick, Rush gathered her into his arms and held her until her wails became quiet sobs. “It’ll be all right, sweetheart,” he murmured. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow. I’ll buy you a new cat.”
“But a new cat won’t be the same! It won’t be Snowflake. He was mine. He was special.” She looked up at Rush, her eyes swollen, her face stained with tears. “It was Bucket, wasn’t it? I’m so mad at that dog!”
Rush sighed and patted her small, quivering back. “Bucket was just playing. He didn’t know any better. If you want to be mad at somebody, be mad at me. I was the one who let Bucket in the house and forgot to zip your tent.”
She stared up at him, her eyes brimming. “Oh, Daddy.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “So, so sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
But even as he said the words, Rush knew there was nothing he could do.
Bucket came slinking into the room, head down, tail drooping, as if he knew he was in trouble. Bits of white stuffing clung to his muzzle. “Look at him, Clara,” Rush said. “You can tell he’s sorry for what he did. Can you forgive him?”
Clara looked down at the guilty dog. “Maybe later. But I need to stay mad at him for a while.”
“And me? Do you need to stay mad at me, too? If you do, I’ll understand.”
She gave him a stern look. “Is it okay if I stay mad at you, too? I’ll still love you. I’ll just be mad.”
“Sure. Just tell me when you’re through being mad.” He gave her a quick hug. “You’ve had a long day. Let’s get you ready for bed.”
He helped her out of the princess costume and laid it over a chair. While she was getting into her pajamas and brushing her teeth, he gathered up her scattered clothes, folded them, and put them back in her suitcase.
After he’d tucked her in and zipped the tent flap, he finished picking up the fuzzy remnants of the toy cat. Then he sat by the tent for a time, until he could be sure Clara was sound asleep.
After checking on her one last time, he wandered back to his room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he worked his cowboy boots off his tired feet. The day had been so good. It was a life lesson, he supposed, that his own mistake had added a sad ending.
He had just stretched out in bed and was drifting off to sleep when his phone rang. Without switching on a light, Rush turned over and reached for it. It could be Tracy, calling to say good night. But it was more likely somebody with a sick or injured animal.
“Hullo,” he muttered. “This is Dr. Rushford.”
“Rush.” The all-too-familiar voice seemed to drop his heart into his stomach
. He sat up and swung his feet to the floor.
“What is it, Sonya? Where are you?”
“I’m home. I’m back from the cruise,” his ex-wife said. “We need to have a talk.”
Chapter 15
Something in Sonya’s voice tightened the cold knot in Rush’s stomach. Her power over Clara gave her power over him. The woman was aware of this, and Rush knew that she would use it to her advantage. This time she’d caught him off guard. But he couldn’t afford to let her get the upper hand.
“Just so you won’t have to ask, Clara is fine,” he said. “She’s been having a good time here.”
“I’m glad.” Rush sensed an edge in Sonya’s reply. “I know you had no choice except to take her.”
“I was happy to take her,” Rush said. “In fact, I’m counting on keeping her through Christmas. I didn’t realize you’d be back so soon.”
“Neither did I.” Her humorless chuckle sounded forced.
“Actually, it’s fine if you keep her through Christmas and maybe longer. I’d rather not have her here until I’ve hired a new nanny.” Her tongue made a clicking sound. “It was so thoughtless of Annie and Cecil, leaving like they did. At least they could have given notice.”
Rush could have pointed out that Annie and Cecil had a family emergency. But that would have been a waste of words.
“I’ll keep her for as long as you’ll let me,” he said. “But meanwhile, what do I tell Clara? When will you and Andre be taking her home?”
There was silence on the phone.
“Sonya?” Maybe they’d lost the connection.
At last she sighed and spoke. “All right. It’s like this. Andre isn’t in the picture anymore. The bastard’s been cheating all along. I finally caught him when we were on the ship—with a woman in a third-class cabin, mind you. I’m seeing my lawyer tomorrow to file for divorce.”
Rush’s first thought was that now Clara could take her kitten home. But there were more serious complications. What would this mean for Clara? Would Andre demand joint custody? And where, Rush wondered, would he stand with Clara when the dust settled?