The Cowboy's Return Read online

Page 6


  “Well, go now.”

  Jilly perked up. “Okay.” She launched to her feet.

  Camila hugged her. “If they say anything mean to you, come home immediately.”

  “I will, Mama, and don’t worry. I’ll take Button with me.”

  “Get my phone out of my purse. I want to be able to call you.”

  “Okay. Bye.” In a flash, Jilly was gone.

  Camila opened her mouth to call her back, then closed it. Millie patted her on the shoulder.

  “Please tell me I’m doing the right thing.”

  Millie shrugged. “I can’t. I don’t even know what the right thing is in this situation. We’ll just have to wait and hope Leona and Grif still have a heart. I mean, who could look at that gorgeous face and not fall in love?”

  Camila tried to smile, but failed miserably.

  “Go to work,” Millie suggested. “Staying busy is the best medicine right now.”

  Camila took her advice, but she kept wondering if Jilly was there yet. How were they treating her? What was happening? What were they saying to her baby?

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  TRIPP HAD SPENT the afternoon riding over the ranch. It upset him that the place was in such bad shape. Pastures were overgrown, mesquite was growing wild again, fences were down and cattle roamed freely from Daniels land onto Boggs property. He’d called Earl several times, but the man never returned any of his calls.

  After taking a shower, he changed clothes. He couldn’t find any record of the payments Earl had made in the past year. They were going to talk about that, too. He checked on his parents. Grif was glued to the TV and Leona was listening to a book on tape that the nurse had brought her, so he didn’t bother them. He’d tell Morris he was leaving, then…

  There was a knock at the door.

  It would be a waste of time yelling for Morris so he answered it himself. He stopped short when he saw who was standing there. Jilly. She held her dog in her arms, like before.

  “Hi, Mr. Daniels. I came to visit like you said.”

  Oh my God! What should he do now? He couldn’t hurt this young girl and he certainly wouldn’t let his parents do that either.

  “Tripp,” Leona called. “Who’s at the door?”

  What the hell should he do?

  “Tripp,” Leona called again. Tripp made a decision, hoping Jilly had the same effect on his parents as she’d had on him.

  “Come in,” he said, stepping aside.

  Jilly walked in and he closed the door.

  “My parents are in the den. Please understand that they are old and say things that sometimes hurt.”

  Jilly nodded. “It’s okay, Mr. Daniels. I know all about old people.”

  “Please call me Tripp,” he told her. “That’s a strong statement for someone so young.”

  “Tripp!” his mother shouted this time.

  “Ready?” he asked Jilly.

  “Yes,” she answered, clutching the dog, and followed him into the den.

  “Mom, Dad, we have a visitor. This is Jilly Walker.”

  Grif swung around, but didn’t say a word. Leona pulled off her headphones, squinting, as if she were trying to see Jilly’s face.

  Jilly walked to her. “Hi, Mrs. Daniels. I’m Jilly and this is Button.” She held up the dog.

  “Button? What’s a Button?” Leona asked.

  “It’s a dog,” Jilly said. “A Chihuahua. Would you like to touch her?”

  “Yes. I like dogs. I used to have a terrier.” Jilly placed the dog in Leona’s lap and Leona stroked it. Button shivered. “Oh, my. It’s a little bitty thing.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jilly said. “That’s why Mama and me named her Button. I’ve had her for four years now and I take her everywhere, except when I go to school.”

  “How old are you, child?”

  “I’ll be twelve next Saturday.”

  “Let me see the dog,” Grif said. Tripp stepped back and let everything happen naturally.

  Jilly carried Button to Grif. “She’s a little nervous, but she’ll calm down in a minute.”

  “These type of dogs need a lot of care,” Grif told Jilly.

  “I give her lots of care and lots of love.”

  “Let me hold Button,” Leona said and Jilly carried the dog back to her.

  They did this for about thirty minutes and Tripp was sure Button was getting dizzy.

  “How about something to drink?” he suggested.

  “Coffee for me, son,” Grif said.

  “Tea, please,” Leona added.

  “And you, Jilly?”

  “I’ll help,” she replied. “I’ll leave Button with you, Mrs. Daniels.”

  “Why does she get to keep the dog?” Grif wanted to know. “She can barely see.”

  “That’s not nice, Mr. Daniels,” Jilly scolded.

  “At my age, girlie, I don’t have to be nice.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Aw,” Grif scoffed.

  “You can sit by Mrs. Daniels and you both can watch Button.”

  “I don’t like it over there.”

  Jilly reached for his elbow. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

  Tripp watched in astonishment as his father got to his feet and moved across the room with Jilly holding onto his arm. Once he was settled next to his wife, he reached for the dog.

  “You have to be nice,” Jilly reminded him.

  “He doesn’t know the meaning of the word,” Leona said.

  “I haven’t been this close to you in years, Leona, so be careful, I might bite you.”

  Jilly giggled and his father smiled, something he rarely did. A miracle was unfolding before Tripp and he just watched the wonderful sight.

  “I’ll be right back,” Jilly said, and followed Tripp into the kitchen. Morris was sitting at the table knitting.

  “Hi, Morris,” Jilly said.

  “Ah, hi.” Surprise filtered across his face.

  “I’m Jilly Walker, remember? I sometimes help you put groceries in your car when you’re shopping.”

  “Yes. I know.” The surprise was still imprinted on his face and Tripp realized that Morris knew about Jilly. Probably knew a lot more, too.

  “We’re fixing tea and coffee for Mom and Dad,” Tripp explained. “What would you like, Jilly?”

  “Water, please. Mama doesn’t want me to drink a lot of soft drinks.”

  Tripp wondered if Camila knew Jilly was here. He’d deal with that later. He placed everything on a tray.

  “I’ll carry it,” Jilly offered.

  He hesitated for a moment then let her carry the tray. Morris watched with a lifted brow as they left.

  Jilly set the tray on the coffee table. “What would you like in your coffee, Mr. Daniels?”

  “Black as sin.”

  Jilly grinned and handed him a mug. “Mrs. Daniels, what would you like in your tea?”

  “Just a little honey, please.”

  Jilly stirred in the honey and held the cup out to Leona. When Leona didn’t take it, Jilly took her hand and guided it to the cup.

  “Oh, thank you.”

  Jilly sat cross-legged on the floor and Button jumped into her lap and curled into a ball. Tripp sat in a chair, watching, drinking a cup of coffee.

  “What grade are you in?” Grif asked.

  “Sixth,” Jilly replied. “And I make all A’s. I’m on the honor roll. I’m going to be a doctor.”

  “That’s a mighty big ambition—and expensive.”

  “My mama started saving for my college education when I was born. She puts money in the account every month.”

  “Very wise,” Grif murmured.

  “And when I work, I put money in the account, too.”

  “You work?” Leona asked in shock.

  “I help at my mama’s store and she pays me.”

  “Do you work a lot?” Leona took a sip of tea.

  “Only when my mama lets me. She works real hard and I help out all I can, but my schoolwork has to be don
e first.”

  “I see,” Grif said and handed Jilly his mug.

  Everyone was quiet for a while, then Grif asked, “Jilly, why did you come here today?”

  Tripp was immediately on his feet. His one goal was to get Jilly out of the room before his father could say anything hateful or hurtful, but Jilly started talking and he listened like his mother and father did.

  “Well, I used to see you in town a lot, but now I only see Morris. I thought you might be sick or something, but I never came out here to check because…” She trailed her fingers across Button’s back. “Well, I know you’re my grandparents, but I also know you don’t believe that. That’s okay, ’cause I believe. My mama doesn’t lie.”

  Complete silence followed that statement.

  “When I saw Tripp’s picture in the paper, I came out here,” Jilly continued. “People say that Tripp and Patrick favor and I wanted to see, but when I arrived I got scared and told him who I was and quickly left. My mama didn’t know where I was and I didn’t want to upset her.”

  “You’ve been here before?” Leona asked.

  “Just that one time.”

  “So you believe you’re Patrick’s daughter?” Grif was stuck on that question.

  Jilly turned to Grif. “Yes, sir. I not only believe. I know it.”

  “Because your mother told you and she doesn’t lie.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you have any proof?”

  Jilly got to her feet, clutching Button, her chin jutting out. “My mama’s word.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not enough for me,” Grif said. “You came for money, didn’t you?”

  “Dad,” Tripp reprimanded.

  “No, sir, I didn’t come for money. I don’t need or want it and my mama wouldn’t allow it anyway.” Jilly gripped Button tighter. “My mama has always said that Patrick was soft-hearted and kind and I guess I came here to feel a part of that—to feel a part of my father. I won’t bother you again.” She bolted from the room.

  “Jilly.” Tripp went after her, but Jilly was already on her bike pedaling furiously for Bramble.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  Chapter Five

  Tripp slammed the door a little harder than he should have and went back into the den. His parents were arguing.

  “You didn’t have to be so blunt,” his mother was saying.

  “Sometimes you have to be to get results.”

  “She’s just a child.”

  “I agree with Mom,” Tripp said. “You were way out of line, Dad. There was no need to hurt Jilly like that.”

  “They’re after our money, son. Can’t you see that?”

  “Money?” Tripp choked out. “Have you checked your accounts lately? There’s very little money left. Take a good look around you—the place is falling apart, the pool is covered with algae, as is the pond out front. The pastures are overgrown and unkempt and there’s not much here to make a person think you have money. Jilly Walker just wanted to feel a connection to her father. That’s it—no ulterior motive.”

  Neither had a word to say.

  “I’m going after her to try and apologize. I’ll be back later.”

  Tripp caught up with Jilly. He pulled the truck ahead of her, stopped and got out.

  Jilly stopped, too, and her dark eyes were wet. He cursed himself for letting the situation get out of hand.

  Button was in the basket and she raised up and barked, her ears pointed, as if sensing Jilly’s distress. Jilly patted the dog and looked at Tripp. “What do you want?”

  “Thought I’d give you a ride into town.”

  “I don’t accept rides from strangers.”

  Tripp drew a deep breath. “I’m not a stranger. I’m your uncle.” At first, he’d been as stubborn as his father, but now he believed what he was saying.

  Her bottom lip trembled and she caught it with her teeth.

  “Come on, Jilly. Let me take you home to your mama.”

  That seemed to be the magic word. Jilly got off the bike and scooped Button into her arms. He lifted the bike into the bed of the truck and they climbed inside.

  As they drove into Bramble, Jilly asked, “Do you really mean what you said?”

  “Yes, Jilly. I believe you’re Patrick’s daughter.”

  “My mama’s a good woman and she’s kind and helps everybody and—”

  “Just give my parents time,” he interrupted, seeing how hurt she was. “Patrick’s death shattered both of them and they haven’t been the same since.”

  Her head was bent and she didn’t say anything.

  “Remember you said you knew about old people.” He was trying to get her to talk.

  “Yeah. But I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jilly.”

  She looked at him, her eyes clouded with tears, and he just wanted to make her pain go away. He was searching for the magic words when she spoke up.

  “I like you. I think I’ll call you Tripp.”

  “That would make me happy.”

  “But I’m not going back to see my grandparents.”

  “That’s your decision.”

  He was hoping to change her mind, though. A few days ago, he’d been acting and thinking like his parents and, in time, he was hoping his father would change his mind, too. He felt his mother was already willing to accept Jilly.

  But accepting Camila was another story.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  CAMILA GLANCED at the clock and saw it was almost five. It would be dark soon and Jilly should have been back by now. She went into the coffee shop.

  “Millie, Jilly’s not answering my cell. I’m going home and if Jilly’s not there in a few minutes, I’m going after her.”

  “Okay, sweetie. If you need any help, just call me.”

  Camila rushed home to an empty house and she felt empty inside. She ran her hands up her arms, her skin feeling sensitive and raw. She shouldn’t have let Jilly go. It was too painful. She kept rubbing her arms, trying to dispel the feelings of the past. It was like a rash all over her body and the more she scratched it, the worse it became. And it was contagious. It had spread to Jilly.

  All these years she’d protected Jilly, but now she felt so helpless. She couldn’t just sit here. She had to do something. She grabbed her purse, then heard a noise. Glancing out the window, she saw Tripp’s truck.

  Oh my God. What had happened?

  She dashed outside.

  Jilly tore around the truck and into her arms. Camila held her tight and Button squealed between them. She eased her hold and kissed Jilly’s forehead, her hair. “It’s okay, baby. You’re home.”

  Jilly darted into the house and Camila’s protective instinct was to follow her, but first she had to deal with Tripp.

  “What happened?” she asked in a cold voice.

  Tripp set Jilly’s bike against the garage and let out a long breath. “My father told her he didn’t believe Patrick was her father.”

  She fought the rage ballooning inside her and turned away, but Tripp caught her arm.

  She stared down at the fingers wrapped around her. “Let go of me.”

  His hand immediately fell to his side. “I’m sorry. I just want to talk to you.”

  “I have nothing to say to you or your family. Stay away from me and stay away from my daughter.”

  She ran after Jilly.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  CAMILA FOUND JILLY in her bedroom, lying on the bed crying. Camila’s heart broke and she sat down and took her in her arms. “Tell me what happened.”

  “He said Patrick wasn’t my father,” Jilly blubbered into her chest.

  “Griffin?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Camila stroked her hair, which had come out of its ponytail. “I tried to prepare you for this.”

  Jilly raised her tearstained face. “I know, Mama, but it’s okay. Now I won’t worry about them.”

  She held Jilly’s face with both hands. “Do you think that’
s possible?”

  Jilly frowned. “Why do I worry so much about people?”

  “Because you’re you.” Camila smiled. “Why don’t we make spaghetti for supper and I’ll call Betty Sue and see if Kerri can come over.”

  Jilly wiped at her eyes. “But I’m not supposed to see her except in school.”

  “Mmm.” Camila gave it some thought. “That does present a problem, but since I’m in charge and I feel you’ve been punished enough, I say you’re not grounded anymore.”

  “You’re wonderful, Mama.”

  “I’ll run out and get a movie and make popcorn and you and Kerri can have a fun evening.”

  “What will you do, Mama?”

  “Oh, after supper, I’ll pull the orders off the computer and fill them.”

  “But it’s Saturday night. You shouldn’t be working.”

  “I’ll just be getting a jump start on Monday.”

  “But, Mama…”

  “I’ll go call Betty Sue.” She stopped at the door. “Why didn’t you answer the cell phone?”

  “It didn’t ring.” Jilly fished it out of her pocket. “Oops. It’s turned off.”

  Camila shook her head, walking out. She stopped for a moment. Tears stung her eyes and nausea churned in her stomach. What she’d worked so hard to prevent was happening—Jilly was being hurt. She shouldn’t have let her visit the Danielses’.

  But Camila knew that wasn’t the answer. Jilly had wanted to meet her grandparents and there was no way to stop that. It wasn’t easy watching her child go through this.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  TRIPP WASN’T SURE what to do so he left—for now. He’d give Camila time to cool off then he’d try to talk to her again. He’d apologize to Jilly again, too.

  He passed the Hitchin’ Post, a beer joint, on the outskirts of town. Earl Boggs’s truck was parked in front, so Tripp stopped and went back. He was in a mood to talk to Earl.

  Inside, country music played loudly, smoke filled the room, and men sat at various tables and at the bar. He spotted Earl immediately at a table with his brother, Bert, and two of Earl’s sons, Wallis and Otis. Tripp walked over.

  “Howdy,” he said.

  “Tripp.” Bert nodded, shaking his hand. “How are your folks?”

  “They’re doing fine.” He glanced at Earl. “Could I speak with you?”