It's a Christmas Thing (The Christmas Tree Ranch 2)

“Andre was back in Sonya’s life, and she wanted a divorce,” Rush said. “Since Claire wasn’t my biological child, and I had never adopted her, I had no parental rights. I tried to start a legal fight, but I was up against a whole battery of expensive lawyers. I didn’t have a prayer. There was nothing I could do except leave.”

“And now?” Travis asked.

“From what I heard of your conversation, somebody needs a babysitter,” Conner said.

“That’s right.” Rush stood and put his unopened beer back in the fridge. “I’ve agreed to pick her up in Oklahoma City and keep her here over the holidays, until her parents get back from their cruise. I guess I should’ve asked your permission before I said yes.”

“No need,” Travis said. “Hey, we like kids, and it’s only for a few weeks. We’ll make it work, won’t we, Conner?”

“Sure,” Conner said. “We’ll show that young lady the time of her life.”

“Thanks, both of you.” Rush was grateful for his partners’ support. But what was he going to do with a four-year-old girl—a girl who slept in a pink ruffled canopy bed at home, with a nanny to fix her meals exactly the way she liked them and keep her looking like a little princess? What if Claire . . . Clara hated the ranch?

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.”