Just a Little Christmas Page 5

  In the years they’d run the ranch together, Seth McFarland, as the legal owner, had insisted on handling the finances himself, while Jubal shouldered more and more of the physical work. Toward the end of his life, the old man had become secretive, even keeping his ledgers, bills, and receipts under lock and key. Jubal, weighed down by his own burdens, hadn’t realized how far his father’s mind had slipped until it was too late.

  And now the ranch his family had owned for generations was gone. Really gone.

  Jubal took a deep breath, willing himself not to panic. There had to be a way to fight this. But first he needed to know who and what he’d be fighting. This afternoon, while Gracie was off with Ellie, he would begin the search by going through every line of his father’s ledger. If the answer wasn’t there, he would keep looking until he’d inspected every piece of paper stuffed into the drawers, files, and boxes the old man had squirreled away.

  It might take days or even weeks to look at everything. But one way or another, Jubal swore, he would find some answers.

  Chapter 4

  Ellie was parked at the curb in front of the school when the bell rang. She watched the boys and girls spill out of the low brick building, laughing, talking, fastening their coats, and shouldering their backpacks. As she stepped out of the car, her eyes scanned the crowded sidewalk, searching for one small girl in pigtails and a faded plaid jacket.

  Only after minutes of looking did Ellie find her. Gracie was standing alone in the shelter of the entryway, clutching her backpack and looking worried.

  Waving, Ellie hurried toward her. Gracie’s face brightened. She scampered down the steps and came racing along the sidewalk. “I was afraid you’d forget,” she said.

  “I’d never do that.” Ellie squeezed her shoulder and guided her to the BMW. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

  Remembering safety rules, she let Gracie into the back and made sure her seat belt was buckled. “Where’s Beau?” Gracie asked.

  “He’s home with my mother. We’re going to Buckaroo’s. They have a NO DOGS ALLOWED sign by their door.”

  “That’s not very nice. I wouldn’t mind having dogs around.”

  “Not even if some big old farm hound came over and tried to gobble your food?”

  Gracie giggled. “That would be funny.”

  “To you, maybe. But not to some people. If you want to play with Beau, we can do it later.”

  “This is really a nice car,” Gracie said. “I’ve never been in a car with real leather seats.”

  “The seats even get warm,” Ellie said. “Can you feel the heat?”

  There was a moment of silence before Gracie exclaimed, “Wow! That’s amazing! Wait till I tell my dad!”

  Ellie sighed. Something told her Jubal wouldn’t be impressed by heated leather car seats. That morning in the parking lot, his manner toward her had been almost contemptuous, as if having an expensive car in Branding Iron were some kind of sin.

  But Jubal’s world didn’t revolve around her, Ellie reminded herself. Jubal had looked preoccupied before he’d even seen her car. Odds were, his gruff behavior had nothing to do with her.

  Whatever was bothering him, she knew better than to get involved. She would have a good time with his daughter today, then gently extricate herself from their lives. That might sound cold, but she had her own issues to deal with.

  Buckaroo’s, the only regular restaurant in Branding Iron, hadn’t changed since Ellie was in high school. The menu—burgers, pizza, ice cream, shakes, sodas, and beer with an I.D.—was the same. Slim, the owner, in his greasy white apron, looked as if he’d been frozen in time. Even the Christmas decorations—a string of lights and tinsel that hung above the counter—were the ones she remembered.

  At their table in a corner booth, she ordered a large pepperoni pizza along with two root beers, which the teenage waitress brought to their table. The way Gracie’s eyes sparkled made Ellie suspect this was a rare treat for the little girl. Maybe Jubal was struggling to keep his ranch afloat. That could explain his careworn look.

  “Can I ask you something?” Gracie asked. “And will you promise you won’t get mad?”

  “Of course I won’t get mad. Go ahead and ask me.”

  “If you’re going to have a baby . . . where’s the dad?”

  At least the question wasn’t unexpected. Gracie was a ranch girl. She probably had some idea of what it took to make a baby.

  “We’re not together now,” Ellie said. “We’re divorced.”

  “Why?”

  That was a tougher question. “He wasn’t happy. I wasn’t happy. We didn’t even like each other anymore.”

  “But you made a baby. My Sunday school teacher says you have to love each other to do that.”

  The conversation was getting too deep for Ellie. “That’s certainly the best way. But sometimes things just happen. Hey, guess what. I’m having a little girl.”

  Gracie’s blue eyes widened. “How do you know?”

  “My doctor in San Francisco used a machine that takes pictures.”

  “Wow! Does she look like you?”

  “She looks like . . . a baby.” The murky sonogram hadn’t shown Ellie much. But the technician had seemed pleased with it. Everything looks good, the woman had said. Since I don’t see any outdoor plumbing, I think we can safely say you’ve got a healthy little girl.

  “When will she be here?” Gracie asked.

  “Pretty soon. The third of January, my doctor said.”

  Gracie sucked her straw, savoring the sweet, cold root beer. “My mom was going to have a baby, too. But she got in a wreck and went to heaven. I guess she took the baby with her.”

  “Oh, honey—” Ellie blinked back a rush of tears. Impulsively she reached across the table and clasped the small, chapped hand. “I know about that. My brother told me. I’ll bet you still miss her.”

  “I miss her all the time. So does my dad.”

  “I went to school with your mother. I remember how pretty she was, and how smart. She was nice, too.”

  “That’s what my dad says. I keep her picture by my bed, so I won’t forget what she looked like. But it’s getting hard to remember how it was being with her. That makes me sad.” She slurped the last few drops of root beer. Ellie caught the waitress’s eye and signaled for a refill.

  “Did you know my dad, too?” Gracie asked.

  Ellie glanced down at the table. “He was a few years older, so he wasn’t in my class, but we were friends,” she said. “You know, the high school isn’t very big. Back then it was even smaller. All the kids knew each other.”

  Just then, to Ellie’s relief, the pizza arrived. Too hungry to ask more questions, Gracie dived in, wolfing down three hot, cheesy slices before announcing that she was full. Ellie, who’d barely been able to eat one slice, ordered a box for the rest. “You can take it home and warm it up later,” she said.

  “Dad likes pizza. I’ll save the rest for him,” Gracie said.

  “So what would you like to do next?” Ellie asked as she paid the check. “There’s a movie about dinosaurs playing at the Main Street Theater.”

  Gracie shook her head. “That’s a little kid movie. I’d rather go to your house and play with Beau. Is that all right?”

  “Sure.” Ellie hadn’t been looking forward to the dinosaur movie either. “Let’s go.”

  Outside, the sun had sunk below the horizon, streaking the thready clouds with crimson and violet. A chilly wind had sprung up. With Gracie clutching the pizza box, they hurried to the car, buckled up, and headed for Clara’s house. Ellie knew her mother, who’d been the city librarian for years, enjoyed children. Having Gracie there would be a treat for her.

  When they opened the front door, Beau jumped off the couch and came bounding to meet them. Wriggling and yapping, he seemed as happy to see Gracie as he was to see Ellie.

  “Do you think he remembers that I saved him?” Gracie picked up the little poodle, giggling as he licked her face.


  “Maybe,” Ellie said. “Or maybe he just likes you. Or just maybe . . . you taste like pizza.”

  Clara stepped out of the kitchen. “Hello there, Gracie. Ellie told me you might be coming, so I made a batch of brownies, just in case. Come on in the kitchen and we’ll have some, with milk.”

  “That sounds great,” Ellie said. “But first I’ll need to take Beau out for a minute.”

  “I can take him,” Gracie said.

  “Thanks, but it’s getting dark. I think I’d better do it.” Ellie took her dog from Gracie and carried him out to his favorite spot by the tree. It would be a good idea to buy some puppy pads like the ones she’d used in the San Francisco condo, she thought. Beau loved his tree, but if the weather got any colder she wouldn’t want to take him outside. Surely Shop Mart would have the pads in stock.

  Beau was sniffing his way around the base of the big sycamore. Ellie shivered, wishing he’d hurry with his doggy business. By now it was so dark that the poodle was nothing but a small, white blur against the grass. He started to lift his leg, then lowered it and disappeared behind the tree. Seconds passed and he didn’t reappear.

  Wondering if he’d found a new spot or something special to sniff, Ellie walked around the tree to check.

  Beau was gone.

  Choking on panic, she wheeled this way and that, her frantic gaze searching the shadows. Why hadn’t she brought a flashlight with her? Now there wasn’t time to run and get one.

  “Beau! Come here!” Heart pounding, she called and whistled. No response. Where had he gone? There were coyotes on the farms and ranches around Branding Iron. What if one had stolen into town and made off with her precious dog in its jaws?

  The distant but chilling cry of a barn owl quivered through the darkness. Ellie’s pulse slammed. An owl could snatch Beau up and be gone in a flash. Just like that, her beloved pet could be lost forever.

  Still calling and whistling, she peered into the shrubbery, then up and down the sidewalk. Beau almost always came when he was called. Something had to be wrong.

  Then she saw him—a dot of white, partway down the block. And he wasn’t alone. On the sidewalk, bathed in the glow of a porch light, a huge wolfish-looking mutt was sniffing Beau as if he were a well-seasoned lamb chop. Beau stood as if frozen in place while the big dog investigated him. Was the scruffy creature just curious, or sizing him up for a meal? Ellie didn’t wait to find out.

  “Shoo!” She charged the big dog, one hand poised to throw an imaginary rock. Probably more startled than scared, it slunk backward, giving her the chance to dart in and scoop up Beau. The little poodle was shaking, but safety gave him courage. From the height of Ellie’s arms, he gave his rival what-for, barking, growling, and yapping up a storm. Unimpressed, the shaggy mutt trotted off down the street.

  Ellie’s knees were shaking. Tears welled in her eyes as she clasped her little poodle close. She’d only lost sight of him for a few seconds, but that was all it had taken for him to walk right into danger.

  How many stories had she heard about children drowning or running into traffic or being kidnapped because a parent looked away for the flicker of a second? How could she manage to be responsible for a child? She could barely keep her dog safe!

  Heaven help her, she didn’t know the first thing about being a mother. Most of her friends in San Francisco had live-in nannies for their little ones. But she couldn’t hire one here, or impose on Clara’s fragile health. For nurturing and protection, this poor little baby would be totally dependent on her. What if she were to do something wrong? Even the thought of it terrified her.

  But the last thing she wanted now was to upset Clara and Gracie. Standing on the porch, she took a moment to breathe and collect herself. By the time she’d closed the front door behind her and walked into the kitchen, she’d managed to paste a smile on her face.

  Gracie and Clara were already at the kitchen table, with glasses of milk, saucers, napkins, and the pan of brownies between them. “Sit down,” Clara said. “Gracie and I were just talking about the Cowboy Christmas Ball.”

  Ellie put Beau on the floor next to his water bowl, then took a seat. In Branding Iron, the ball was the biggest event of the year. The whole town came, dressed for an Old West party with traditional food and a live big-name country band for dancing the night away.

  Ellie dished out the warm brownies, one on each saucer, and passed around some forks. “Don’t plan on me for the ball. I’ll be even bigger than I am now. Jess can keep my old ball gown, which you lent her last year. She must’ve looked stunning in it with that red hair and tiny waist. Anyway, after this baby, I’ll never be able to fit into it again.”

  “I don’t recall seeing you there last year, Gracie,” Clara said.

  Gracie looked downcast. “My dad says that he and Mom used to go. But now, being there just makes him feel sad.”

  “I remember seeing your parents there. They were a lovely couple. Such a tragedy, that accident.” Clara shook her head, then smiled. “But you could go with our family, Gracie. I know Ben and Jess would be happy to have you along.”

  “That would be nice,” Gracie said. “But I’d have to go looking like this. I don’t have anything to wear.”

  Clara’s face brightened. “I can fix that! I have a length of calico in my sewing cabinet that would do nicely for your ball dress. Let me bring it out so you can take a look.”

  She rose out of her chair and, with surprising energy, hurried down the hall to her sewing room. Gracie gave Ellie a hesitant look.

  “Does your mother want to make me a dress?”

  “It looks that way.”

  “But that would be a lot of work. I don’t think my dad has enough money to pay her.”

  “Oh, she wouldn’t take money, Gracie. My mother loves to sew, and she has shelves and boxes full of fabric. She would do this just for fun.” Ellie gave her a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. Now finish your brownie and milk, and afterward you can play with Beau.”

  A few minutes later, Clara returned with a bolt end of blue calico, dotted with tiny yellow flowers. “I think this will do if there’s enough of it,” she said. “Stand up, Gracie, and let’s see.”

  Gracie stood still while Clara doubled the length of cloth and held it up in front of her. “Oh, there’ll be plenty,” she said. “And that blue, with her eyes—what do you think, Ellie?”

  “I think it’s perfect. How about you, Gracie?”

  “It’s . . . beautiful. Nobody ever made me a dress before. Thank you!” She flung her arms around Clara’s waist.

  Clara dabbed at her eyes. “I’ll just get my tape and take your measurements,” she said, easing gently away before she hurried back down the hallway with the calico in her arms.

  Gracie sipped her milk, frowning. “I hope my dad will be okay with this. He won’t take anything for free. He calls it charity. He’ll probably want to pay for the dress.”

  “Tell him it’s not charity, it’s a gift.” Ellie studied Jubal’s daughter, thinking how wise she was for her years. With no mother to take care of her, she’d probably had to grow up fast—just as Ellie and Ben had after their father was killed crashing his small plane.

  “Is your father all right?” she asked. “I’ve only talked to him for a few minutes, but he did seem troubled about something. We were friends once. I care enough to wonder about him.” All true, Ellie reminded herself.

  “I wonder, too,” Gracie said. “He seems kind of sad and quiet. But he hasn’t told me why. I think there might be something he doesn’t want me to worry about.”

  Just then Clara returned with her dressmaker’s tape. Ellie had already decided not to ask Gracie anything more. It would be too much like prying and might upset the girl.

  Gracie stood still while Clara measured her, but her eyes were on the dog, who was chewing one of his squeaky toys on the rug. Knowing that Beau was the real reason she’d wanted to come here, Ellie brought her Beau’s basket of dog t
oys and invited her to play.

  While Ellie cleaned up the kitchen, Clara settled in her rocker to watch the fun as Gracie and Beau played fetch, tug-of-war, and hide-and-seek. Beau loved the games, but after half an hour running back and forth on his short little legs, he began to flag. Finally he curled up in Gracie’s lap and went to sleep.

  Seated on the low ottoman, Gracie gazed down at him. Then she looked up at Ellie and grinned. “Well, it looks like I’m stuck here for a while,” she said.

  Ellie returned her smile. She couldn’t blame Gracie for wanting to be here, where it was warm and cheerful, with two women to fuss over her, treats to snack on, and a cute little dog to play with and cuddle. But Jubal would be wanting his daughter home soon. And much as she enjoyed Gracie, Ellie had no desire to anger her father.

  Clara was sitting behind Gracie in her rocker. “What lovely hair you have, Gracie,” she said. “So thick and such a pretty chestnut brown. Do you braid those pigtails yourself ?”

  “Uh-huh. I do it every morning before school,” Gracie said. “My dad doesn’t know how to fix hair.”

  “When Ellie was about your age, I used to French-braid her hair. I’ll bet yours would look pretty that way. Would you like me to try it?”

  Gracie looked uncertain. “I guess. Can I hold Beau while you braid my hair?”

  “Of course. Just stay right where you are. Ellie, would you get a brush and a comb out of the bathroom?”

  Ellie hurried down the hall and came back with the things her mother needed. Gracie sat still while Clara unwrapped the elastic hair bands and unraveled the braids into a wavy cascade of hair that fell to the middle of the girl’s back. Taking the brush, she began smoothing away the last tangles. Gracie really did have pretty hair. In years to come, with those blue eyes and delicate features, she would be a lovely young woman.

  Reaching forward, Clara sectioned the hair at the crown of Gracie’s head and began braiding the first locks. Gracie sat straight and still, one fingertip stroking Beau’s head.

  “When are you going to get your Christmas tree?” she asked.