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

“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.