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“I’m not supposed to. I just got to come here ’cause Mom and Andre went away on a big boat.”
“A cruise, you mean?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Your parents went off and left you for Christmas?” That poor little girl. Her parents didn’t deserve her.
“Uh-huh. They left me with Cecil and Annie. But then Annie’s father got sick, so I got to go to my daddy—my real daddy.”
Tracy hadn’t understood everything Clara had told her, but what she could piece together told a heartbreaking story—a loving father and a trusting little girl ripped apart when a terrible secret had come to light. She could sympathize, but there was no way to change what had happened.
It came as a relief to see the entrance sign for Shop Mart just ahead on the right. When Maggie had asked Tracy to take Rush’s little girl shopping, caution had warned her to keep her distance. But now that she understood the connection between Rush and the child who still loved him, she found herself being pulled from safety like a swimmer in a riptide.
Shop Mart, the only big-box store in the county, was a magnet for Christmas shoppers. The lot was so full that Tracy had to park in the last row, in the far corner. “Let’s go,” she said, slinging her purse on her shoulder and lifting Clara out of her seat. Half-melted slush coated the asphalt, splattering her as a car drove past. Tracy enfolded the little girl in the front of her coat, trying to shield her.
“I’ll have to carry you into the store,” she said. “It’s too cold and wet out here for your princess gown.”
Clara clung to her. “Is this winter?” she asked. “We don’t have winter in Phoenix. It’s warm all the time.”
“This is a Texas winter,” Tracy said. “Sometimes it’s cold and snowy like this. Sometimes it rains. Sometimes it’s warm and dry, even in December. Texas weather is full of surprises.”
“Does Santa Claus come when it’s warm?”
“Does he come to Phoenix?”
“I guess he just figures that out. Santa is pretty smart.” Clara gazed past the sea of cars to where people were swarming into the store entrance. “Santa comes to our Mall in Phoenix. Kids sit on his lap and tell him what they want for Christmas. Will Santa come to this store?”
“Not this store,” Tracy said. “He doesn’t come to Branding Iron until the Christmas parade.”
“Then how will he know what kids want?”
Tracy scrambled for an answer. “They write letters and mail them at the post office.”
“Can I write a letter? I’ll need help ’cause I can’t write much. Just my name. Annie taught me that.”
“Sure,” Tracy said. “After we buy clothes, you’re going to my house to wait for your dad. I’ll help you then.”
They passed through the automatic doors and into the crowded store. “Stay close to me,” Tracy said, putting Clara down. “It’s crowded in here. I wouldn’t want us to get separated.”
“Take this.” Clara unfastened her coat and thrust it up at Tracy. “I want people to see my princess dress.”
“Fine.” Tracy tucked the coat under her arm, anchored Clara’s tiara, and looked around for an empty shopping cart. There was just one in the line. Clasping Clara’s hand, she lunged and grabbed it just ahead of a large woman who glowered at her and moved away. Tracy could feel a headache coming on. Buying clothes would be fun. But fighting her way through mobs of Christmas shoppers would be exhausting.
“I know what, let’s put you in here.” She lifted Clara into the cart and dropped the coat in after her. “That’s better. Now I won’t lose you. You’ll look like a princess riding in her coach.”
“Can I stand up?”
“You’ll be safer sitting down. If somebody bumps into us, you could fall. Okay?”
“Okay.” She sat on her coat, carefully spreading her skirt and adjusting her tiara. Tracy took a moment to spot the overhead sign that said CHILDREN’S WEAR. Pushing through the crowd, she headed in that direction.
She soon found out why her shopping cart had been the last one left. One damaged wheel made a squealing sound with each rotation, followed by a plop. Squeal, plop. Squeal, plop.
People turned their heads toward the sound. Clara smiled and gave them a perfect royal princess wave. Many of them smiled back at her, or even clapped.
Most of them were strangers. Glancing around, Tracy realized how few people she actually knew, even after more than five years in Branding Iron. While Steve had been alive, especially in that final year, her whole existence had revolved around her marriage and her job. After his death, their mutual friends, most of them in Cottonwood Springs, had drifted away, leaving her marooned by grief and loneliness. The townspeople who’d passed through her court saw her as a judge, not a friend. Even the men and women she worked with went back to their own lives at the end of the day—lives that didn’t include her.
Tracy knew better than to feel sorry for herself. If she was alone, it was because she’d failed to reach out to people like Maggie, who could be her friends. Making changes would be up to her. But where and how to begin—that was the question she had yet to face.
