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“We’ve got a little surprise for you,” Conner said. “Do you like camping?”
She glanced up at Rush, then back at Conner. “I don’t know. I’ve seen people camping on TV. It looks fun. But I’ve never done it. Will we camp in the snow?”
“We don’t have to,” Conner said. “Take a look at this! Your very own cozy camp!”
Travis, who’d been blocking her view of the darkened living room, stepped aside and turned on the light to reveal a blue nylon dome tent pitched in a corner. Rush had never seen the tent before. Conner must have brought it in his trailer when he’d moved to the ranch last year.
Clara hesitated, still uncertain. Glancing at his partners’ faces, Rush could tell how much they’d wanted his little girl to like their surprise.
“Come on, let’s look inside.” Rush took her suitcase, held her hand, and led her to the tent. It wasn’t tall enough for an adult to stand full height, but for a child, there was plenty of room. Inside was a sleeping bag with a pillow, laid on a cushiony air mattress. Next to the makeshift bed was a flashlight and a water bottle, with enough space left on the floor for an open suitcase.
“We wanted you to have your own space,” Travis said. “But the house doesn’t have a spare room. So, we thought the tent might work. You can zip the flap shut when you want to close it. Check it out.”
When Clara hesitated, Rush laid her suitcase on the floor of the tent and nudged her inside. She looked around, then sat on the sleeping bag and bounced up and down on the air mattress. Her small face transformed into a grin. “I like it!” she said. “It’s like my own little house!”
Rush could see relief in the faces of his partners. Making her feel at home had mattered to them.
“So, take off your coat and stay a while,” Conner said. “Would you like some hot cocoa and cinnamon toast before bedtime?”
“Yes, please.” Clara’s manners were impeccable. She was a little princess who’d landed among rough-living cowboys, like Snow White wandering into the cottage of the dwarves.
She handed Snowflake to Travis, shed her coat, and laid it next to her suitcase. She had just stepped out of the tent when the sound of furious scratching and barking came from the far end of the hall. Clara’s dark eyes widened. “Is that Bucket?”
“Yup, and he’s really anxious to meet you,” Travis said. “I locked him in my room because I didn’t want him to knock you over. Hang on, I’ll get him.” He strode down the hall and came back with the wriggling, wagging dog in his arms. Bucket had been bathed and brushed until his black-and-white coat gleamed. Rush hadn’t seen him so clean since last year’s Christmas parade.
Travis tried to hold on to the dog, but Bucket was too much for him. Squirming with eagerness, he worked loose from Travis’s clasp, jumped to the floor, and came bounding to greet the newcomer.
Here comes disaster, Rush thought. But he couldn’t reach Clara in time to snatch her away. Bucket barreled into her, wagging, licking, and making happy little whimpers.
Alarm flashed across Clara’s face. Then, recovering from her fear, she laughed. Reaching out, she hugged the dog, giggling as he licked her face.
It was strange, Rush thought. Bucket didn’t know Clara. There was no reason he should be so happy to see her. He was an older dog—maybe he had loved a child in his unknown past. Or maybe he’d recognized a kindred spirit—small, openhearted, and eager to play.
“Can Bucket stay in my tent with me?” Clara asked.
“Not a good idea,” Travis said. “Tonight, Bucket’s had a bath. But if you let him sleep by you, he’ll think he can do it anytime. You won’t want him in your tent when he’s been rolling in the mud. I’ve moved his bed to my room so he won’t bother you in the night.”
“One thing more,” Rush said, holding up the toy cat. “You’ll need to keep Snowflake in a safe place, or Bucket will want to play with him. Snowflake wasn’t made to be a dog toy.”
“I’ll tuck him in the sleeping bag. He’ll be there when I go to bed.” She took the toy. With Rush keeping Bucket outside the tent, she stuffed it into the sleeping bag.
Conner was in the kitchen making hot chocolate and toast. “It’ll be ready in a couple of minutes,” he said.
“I want to put my jammies on first.” Inside the tent, Clara was opening her suitcase.
“Do you need any help?” Rush remembered how he’d helped her get ready for bed when she was younger.
“I’m a big girl now, Daddy. I can get ready by myself.” She zipped the tent flap and emerged a few minutes later, clad in pink Disney princess pajamas and tiny pink slippers with cat faces and whiskers on the toes. Rush noticed that she’d put her pajama top on backward and her slippers were on the wrong feet, but knew better than to point it out. The little girl he still thought of as his was proud of her independence—something she was bound to need growing up with a mother like Sonya.
“Let’s keep your tent zipped so Bucket will learn to stay out,” Rush suggested.
“That’s a good idea, Daddy.” She found the outside zipper tab and managed to close the flap by herself.
“Who’s ready for hot cocoa and toast?” Conner called from the kitchen.
“Me!” Clara scampered to the table and let Conner boost her onto the chair he’d raised with a box on the seat. So far, so good, Rush thought as he watched her wipe her hands on the washcloth Conner had given her. His partners were the best friends he could have, welcoming his little girl like this. And Clara seemed happy to be here.
He would do everything in his power to leave her with joyful memories of this Christmas holiday—memories that might be the last she would ever have of him.
