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“Hey, your dad’s snow angel doesn’t look that bad,” Tracy said to Clara. “Look at it. The skirt is a mess where he had to get up, but the head and wings are fine. I’ll bet you and I could fix it. Want to try?”
Rush watched them work, patting and furrowing the snow. The two of them seemed so comfortable together, laughing and talking. Tracy would make a wonderful mother, he found himself thinking.
It had occurred to him to wonder why she had no children from her marriage. Maybe it was because
she’d wanted to focus on her legal career. But that was none of his business.
The finished angel skirt was nothing to brag about. Mostly they’d just made it bigger. But Clara seemed satisfied, and that was all that mattered.
“All done, Daddy,” she said, surveying their work. “Now we’ve got three angels—a mom angel, a little girl angel, and a big, messed-up dad angel. A family of angels.” The way she looked from Rush to Tracy sent a message that couldn’t be missed. Lord, was his little girl matchmaking too?
“I think that’s enough snow games for now,” Tracy said. Something told Rush she’d gotten the same message.
“We need to be going,” he said. “Clara’s getting cold. We’ll just get her things from the house and be on our way.”
“Can I say good-bye to Murphy and Rainbow and the kittens?” Clara asked.
“If you hurry. Stomp the snow off your boots so you won’t track it into Tracy’s kitchen.”
“Okay!” She dashed for the house.
Tracy fell into step with Rush as they followed her across the yard. “Thanks for everything,” he said. “She loves it here. I’m afraid she’ll be begging me to let her come back.”
“That would be fine,” Tracy said. “She’s delightful. We had a great time together.”
“Are we still on for breakfast on Saturday?”
“I suppose so. I may be saying that against my better judgment, but I’m a woman of my word.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll have fun.”
They entered the house to find Clara standing next to the box, holding the white kitten. “Be a good kitty, Snowflake.” She kissed the kitten’s velvety head. “Remember that I love you.”
Rush swallowed the lump in his throat as he gathered up the shopping bags. “Come on, Clara, it’s time to go,” he said. “Put the kitten down and say thank you to Tracy. We’ll see her Saturday morning when we go to breakfast.”
Clara gave the kitten one more kiss and lowered it into the box with the others. “I’m coming, Daddy,” she said. “Thank you, Tracy.”
“You’re very welcome,” Tracy said. “We had fun, didn’t we?”
“Uh-huh. Can I come again?”
“Sure, when it’s a good time for both of us,” Tracy said. “I’ll see you two on Saturday”
Clara turned to go, then suddenly stopped. “Tracy, we forgot. You were going to help me write to Santa Claus.”
“Next time,” Tracy said. “Or maybe your dad can help you. Don’t worry. We’ll make sure Santa gets your letter.”
Rush herded the little girl outside and boosted her into the Hummer. She waved at Tracy as they drove away. He could tell she’d had a good time. So had he. But when he thought about where all this was going, he could see nothing ahead but heartache. When the holidays were over, Clara would go home to a self-centered mother and an indifferent father, and probably a new set of caregivers. He might not see her again for years.
And what about him? Losing his little girl a second time was going to rip his heart out. And the prospect for anything lasting with Tracy wasn’t much better. The beautiful judge was still wedded to her late husband. He would try to show her a good time. But he couldn’t—and wouldn’t—compete with a ghost.
For now, all he could do was make the most of every day, until the time came, as it surely would, when he’d be left with nothing but memories.
Chapter 8
Tracy stood on the front porch and watched the Hummer pull away from the curb. Clara waved at her through the rear side window. Smiling, Tracy waved back.
As the Hummer vanished into the swirling snow, she brushed the moisture from her coat and went back inside. Murphy raised his head and wagged his tail, greeting her as if she’d been gone for hours. Dropping her coat and sinking to her knees, she wrapped her arms around the old dog and pressed her face against his neck, inhaling his warm, familiar doggy aroma. A tear dampened her cheek.
