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The next morning Rush was up at first light to help with morning chores. After making sure Travis had let Bucket outside, he unzipped the blue tent where Clara had gone to sleep. In the faint glow of dawn, he could see her cocooned in the sleeping bag, one arm cradling her fuzzy toy cat. She looked so sweet in slumber that he was tempted to leave her alone. But it wouldn’t do to have her wake up all alone in a strange house.
Stepping carefully into the tent, he leaned over her, touched her shoulder, and murmured her name. She stirred and opened her eyes. Her smile, when she saw him, was like the sun coming up. “Hi, Daddy,” she said. “Is it morning?”
“Almost. I woke you up because I need to go outside and help with the work. My friends will be working, too, so you’ll be in here by yourself for a little while. Is that all right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You won’t be scared alone?”
“I’m a big girl, Daddy. I won’t be scared. Where’s Bucket?”
“He’s outside, helping. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when I come back inside.”
“What if I need to get up?”
“Do you know how to find the bathroom?”
“Uh-huh. I went last night.”
“Fine. If you get up, don’t open anything in the kitchen or go into any of the bedrooms. In case you’re hungry, I left some cookies and milk on the table. We’ll have breakfast when the chores are done. After that, if you behave, I’ll take you out to see the horses. Okay?”
She gave him a sleepy smile. “Can we play in the snow today?”
“If it’s not too cold. We’ll see.” Had she packed anything suitable for the weather? Coming from Phoenix, she probably didn’t have anything warmer than her lightweight coat and the little sneakers she’d worn. He would need to see that she had warm, sturdy clothes. He would also need to set up a routine for her, with a regular schedule and a set of rules to keep her out of trouble. The responsibilities he’d taken on were just beginning to sink in.
“It’s early yet,” he said. “Travis built a fire in the stove before he went out, but the house is still cold. You’ll be warmer if you stay in bed a while. Okay?”
“Okay.” Snuggling the toy cat, she closed her eyes. With luck, she’d sleep until he finished the chores and came back inside. Then what? Too bad he didn’t have a book on a thousand ways to entertain a four-year-old. Maybe his partners would have some suggestions.
By the time Rush had finished his share of the morning chores, washed his hands, and returned to the house, Clara was sitting at the table, watching Travis spoon pancake batter onto the cast-iron griddle.
“Hi, Daddy!” She gave him a smile. Her ponytail was lopsided, with missed strands of hair hanging around her face. She was dressed in a fuzzy blue sweater with a ballerina-style net tutu over the flowered leggings she’d worn last night. Her sneakers, which were fastened with strips of Velcro, were on the wrong feet.
“Look, I got dressed all by myself,” she said. “And I fixed my own hair.”
Rush had to smile. “You sure did. I’m proud of you.”
Her smile broadened, making him wonder if her “real” father ever praised her. He hadn’t known Andre well, but Sonya’s lover had impressed him as a self-absorbed ass.
“Here you go.” Travis flipped two pancakes onto her plate. “Careful, they’re hot.”
“Can I butter them for you?” Rush asked. “If I remember right, you like your pancakes with plenty of syrup.”
“I still do.” She let Rush melt butter on the hot pancakes and drown them in maple syrup. When he began cutting them into bite-sized pieces, as he’d done for her in the past, she smiled and let him. At least she hadn’t insisted on doing everything by herself.
After they helped clear the table and loaded the dishwasher, Rush kept his promise to show Clara the horses. The day was sunny, but the morning air was bitter cold. Realizing that her thin blue coat wouldn’t protect her, Rush bundled the little girl into a blanket and carried her outside in his arms.
Bucket came bounding out of the barn to meet them, wagging his tail and standing on his hind legs for attention. Clara reached down to pet him, giggling as he licked her fingers. “He likes me!”
“He likes your fingers,” Rush teased. “They probably taste like syrup.”
“Why did you name him Bucket?”
“We didn’t name him. That’s just the name he came with.”
