It's a Christmas Thing

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It's a Christmas Thing Page 21

by Janet Dailey


  “I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it. “I know we had our problems, but I wouldn’t have wished this for you.”

  “You were always a decent guy, Rush,” she said. “I was a fool to end our marriage the way I did. That’s why I’m calling now. I’ve thought about this long and hard, and I want to give our marriage another chance.”

  “What?” Rush almost dropped the phone.

  “Hear me out,” she said. “Andre doesn’t want Clara. In exchange for my waiving child support, he’s willing to give up his parental rights. You could come back, Rush. You could have it all—me, the house, the clinic you left, and Clara. You could adopt her. She’d be your legal daughter.”

  Rush switched on the bedside lamp, the sudden light a blinding flash. He could feel a headache coming on. This had to be some kind of crazy dream. Any minute now, he would wake up, sweating with relief.

  “Think about Clara,” Sonya said. “Think how happy she’d be to have her real family together again.”

  “We need to talk about this in the cold light of day,” Rush said.

  “Why? I know you loved me once. Is there a problem?”

  “If that’s what you want to call it. But now I’m in love with someone else. She’s a wonderful woman. When the time’s right, I plan to propose to her. But I very much want to be in Clara’s life. If we could agree to some kind of split custody—”

  “No!” Sonya’s voice had taken on the tone of a demanding child. “I won’t share my daughter, especially not with another woman. This is an all-or-nothing offer, Rush. Either you come back home to your family, where you belong, or you won’t see Clara again until she’s grown.”

  He had to be dreaming. Real life couldn’t be this crazy.

  “Sonya, there has to be some way we can work—”

  “No. You’ve heard my offer. I’ll give you until the day after Christmas to think it over. Then you can let me know whether you want to have Clara or that woman you’re so keen on. You know my number.”

  The phone went silent as she ended the call.

  Rush fell back onto the bed and lay there, staring up at the ceiling. He wouldn’t tell Clara about this, of course. Not until a final decision had been made.

  But what was there to decide? In the beginning, he’d been dazzled by Sonya’s beauty and sophistication. But she’d turned out to be a cheating, self-centered manipulator. And people didn’t change. All he felt for her now was an odd sort of pity. She was a spoiled child who could never decide what she wanted.

  That aside, he loved Tracy to the depths of his soul—her warmth, her tenderness, her honesty . . . He could no longer imagine his life without her.

  But what about Clara?

  How could he tell his precious little girl that he was giving her up forever to be with Tracy? The hurt of rejection could scar her young life.

  And what about Tracy? He’d be seeing her in the morning. There was no way he could keep this from her.

  Somehow, there had to be a better option than the ultimatum Sonya had offered him—and it was up to him to find it.

  With a groan, he turned over, punched his pillow, and willed himself to sleep. But why even try, when sleep was no escape from the nightmare that had begun with tonight’s phone call?

  * * *

  By 7:30, when Rush pulled up in the Hummer, Tracy had a fire going in the living room and breakfast warming on the stove. She greeted him at the door with a brief but passionate kiss. Only when she stepped back afterward did she notice the shadows of weariness that framed his eyes.

  “You look exhausted,” she said. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” He sounded as weary as he looked. “Just didn’t get much sleep.”

  “Is everything all right—did something happen with Clara?”

  “Clara’s okay, but Bucket’s in trouble for ripping up her favorite toy.”

  “Oh, no! Snowflake? Poor Clara! I can just imagine how upset she must’ve been. Come on in the kitchen. You’ll feel better after a good breakfast.”

  Rush held up his medical bag. “Let’s take care of those vaccinations first. Rainbow’s going to need her shots, too. When that’s done, we can relax and talk.”

  Relax and talk. It sounded innocent enough. So why, as she followed him down the hall to the laundry room, did Tracy sense a dark premonition hanging over her? Something was wrong. It was written in every worried line of Rush’s face.

  She held Rainbow and the kittens, petting and soothing each one while Rush vaccinated them against rabies and distemper. He was good at his job. The work was done swiftly, with minimal discomfort to the furry patients.

  “All done.” He cleaned up the used gloves and needles and put his bag next to the door, almost as if he thought he might be leaving in a hurry. Tracy’s worry deepened. Maybe she was only imagining things, but her instincts were shouting that something was seriously wrong.

  Tracy seated him at the kitchen table, poured coffee, and dished up scrambled eggs, sausage, and hash browns before joining him. Rush made a show of eating, but mostly seemed to push the food around on his plate. After a few minutes of this, broken by awkward small talk, Tracy could stand it no longer.

  “What’s wrong, Rush?” she demanded. “I can tell something’s bothering you. Please don’t keep it from me.”

  He put down his fork, shook his head, and took a deep breath. Tracy could almost feel him struggling.

  “It’s all right,” she said. “You can tell me anything.”

  His jaw tightened before he spoke. “I got a phone call last night from Sonya, my ex-wife. Evidently Andre was cheating on her. They’re getting a divorce.”

  Tracy felt a surge of relief. “I’m sorry, of course. But won’t that make things easier? With Andre gone, Clara can have her kitten. And surely, you’ll be able to see her more often, won’t you?”

  Rush didn’t answer. It was as if the shadows had deepened around his eyes.

  “Won’t you . . . ?” Tracy’s voice trailed off as the realization hit her like a thunderclap. “You’re going back to her, aren’t you?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t say that, Tracy.”

  “You didn’t have to say it.” Numb with disbelief, she forced the words that would make this real. “I know how much your family means to you. Now you’ll have them back, with everything the way it was. You could even have more children, your own children.”

  “Listen to me, Tracy.” He rose partway out of his chair, then sat down again. “Sonya has given me an ultimatum. Either I go back to her, or she won’t let me see Clara again. But I can’t just walk away from you. I love you.”

  Tracy fought back tears, knowing that there could be just one reply. She had to say and do the right thing.

  “I know you love me, Rush. But you can’t have this both ways. You can’t choose me over Clara and break her heart. You can’t choose me over your family. Just go. I’ll be all right.”

  “Damn it, Tracy—” He rose to his feet.

  “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 e
arth 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.

  Since Francine was busy catering holiday parties, Tracy had arranged to drop off Ginger at the B and B tomorrow. But she was expecting Daniel to come and get Tiger today. He called at 1:30 to make sure she was home. “You’re welcome to come now, Daniel,” Tracy told him. “I’ll have Tiger ready for you.”

  A few minutes later, Tracy looked out the front window and saw a small Toyota pull up to the curb. Daniel had mentioned that his father would be driving him. But she was surprised to see a young woman at the wheel. Tracy got a better look at her as the two of them came up the walk. She was slim and pretty in jeans, a pink sweater, and a flowered jacket. Her striking eyes were dark, her long hair tied back in a ponytail.

  “Come on in and have a seat.” Tracy ushered them into the living room. By then she’d realized there was something familiar about the young woman. Where had she seen her before?

  “This is my sister, Megan,” Daniel introduced her. “She lives in Nashville.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you,” Megan said. “Daniel’s been so excited about giving Katy this kitten. Thank you.”

  The voice triggered a flash of recognition. “Oh, my goodness!” Tracy exclaimed. “You sang with the band last night! You were terrific!”

  “Thanks.” Megan laughed. “That was the other me. This is the real me. And in case you’re wondering about that coat, I bought it for fifty dollars at a thrift shop.”

  “So you live in Nashville,” Tracy said. “Are you a singer there?”

  “Only when I can get a gig,” Megan said. “The rest of the time I have a day job. I teach kindergarten. Sam, the bass player with the Badger Hollow Boys, is the father of one of my students. When he heard that my family lived in Branding Iron, he invited me to come along and sing with the band.”

  “Will you be here long?” Tracy asked.

  “I’d like to be. I’ve barely had time to spend with my parents and Daniel. But I’m singing at a club tomorrow night, so I need to leave soon, probably tonight.”

  Too bad, Tracy thought, remembering that Conner had been interested in the singer. But after what had happened with Rush, when would she get the chance to talk to Conner again? Those fun-filled days with friends at the ranch were over.

  “I’ll get the kitten.” Tracy walked back to the laundry room and found Tiger. The little female tabby was a charmer. When Tracy placed her in Daniel’s arms, she settled right down and began to purr.

  Daniel grinned. “Katy will love her,” he said.

  Tracy took time to give Daniel some pointers on taking care of a cat, including a call to Dr. Rushford when she was old enough to be spayed. Then Megan and Daniel thanked her and carried Tiger, along with the canned food, out to the car.

  Tracy stood at the window, watching them drive away. The sky was a dark, muddy gray, the dry wind blowing snowflakes as fine as dust. Rainbow jumped onto the windowsill and rubbed her head against Tracy’s arm. Tracy stroked her silken fur. The Christmas holiday loomed ahead of her, as bleak as the weather outside.

  But she’d survived worse, Tracy reminded herself. A cheery fire, a good book or two, plenty of snacks, and a stack of DVDs from the library, and she would be fine. She’d be back on the bench in January before she knew it.

  Wouldn’t she?

  The phone rang again. Her pulse leaped—but no, she knew better than to think it might be Rush. He wouldn’t be calling her anytime soon.

  She picked up the phone. The caller was Maggie.

>   “Hi, Tracy,” she said. “I know you’re busy, so I won’t keep you long. I was thinking of having a little dinner party at my place on Christmas Eve. Just a few friends, including you and Rush, and Clara. I hope you can make it. Nothing fancy, just—”

  “Hold on,” Tracy said. “Rush and Clara might be glad to come. But I can’t be there. Rush and I just broke up.”

  Maggie gasped. “Oh, no! You two were perfect for each other. What happened? Do you need to talk about it?”

  Tracy gulped back the lump in her throat. “There’s not much to talk about. His ex-wife’s getting a divorce. Rush is going back to her—for Clara.”

  Maggie muttered something under her breath. “I can’t believe this. Did you show him the document you printed out?”

  “There was no point in showing it to him. Why complicate things? He’s going back to Sonya. End of story.”

  “And you didn’t even try to change his mind?”

  “He’ll be getting his family back, Maggie. So will Clara. How can I argue with that?” Tracy could feel her emotions spilling over. “If I don’t get off this phone, I’m going to lose it,” she said. “Enjoy your dinner party.”

  Tracy ended the call, sank onto the couch, and buried her face in her hands.

  * * *

  Rush had arrived home from checking the injured bull’s barbed wire cuts to find that Clara was still mad at him. Now it was midafternoon, and she was still pouting, refusing to smile at him or let herself be hugged. Maybe the little princess took after her mother in that respect.

  Rush knew he shouldn’t be surprised. He deserved to be in the doghouse for letting Bucket chew up her beloved toy. But now another issue had arisen, one he didn’t know how to handle.

  “Why can’t I go to Tracy’s house?” she demanded for maybe the fourth time. “I want to play with the kittens. If I could hold Snowflake and pet him, I wouldn’t be mad anymore.”

  “Tracy’s busy today,” he said. “This isn’t a good time to visit her.”

 

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