The Cowboy's Return (13 page)

But who?

♦ ♦ ♦

O
N
F
RIDAY
, C
AMILA
was nervous and she didn’t understand why. Jilly visiting with the Danielses was constantly on her mind. She kept watching the clock and had to force herself to stop. It was a visit, nothing else. So why was she so on edge? She dropped a stitch and said a curse word under her breath.

She was acting like Jilly wasn’t coming back. A pain shot right through her and she had to take a breath. What was wrong with her? It wasn’t like she was losing Jilly.

Benita came into the shop. “Hi, chick, need any help?”

She sensed Benita was at loose ends and wanted something to do. “Do you mind watching the shop? I have to take Jilly to the Danielses’. The prices are marked.”

“Sure.” Benita looked at her. “You seem a little nervous.”

Camila took a breath. “I guess I am, which is ridiculous.”

“Would you like me to go with you? I can watch the shop if you’d rather, but I feel you need me more.”

Camila did, and she was surprised Benita recognized it. “Yes. I’d like that. Millie will watch out for customers.”

After a brief stop at her house to pick up Button, they headed for the school. Camila handed the dog to Benita and her hand shook a little.

“Relax, Camila,” Benita said. “You wanted this for Jilly.”

“This was actually Jilly’s idea.” Camila told her about Jilly’s bicycle ride out to see Tripp.

Benita laughed. “That’s my girl.”

“I want her to be independent and stand up for herself, but sometimes she even surprises me.”

“You were always very shy,” Benita remarked, stroking Button.

“Yes. Painfully so.”

“Because you were ashamed of me.” The words came out low and hurt, but Camila heard them.

Camila parked at the school. “I’ve always loved you, Benita. I just never understood why you did some of the things you did.”

“Me, neither,” Benita replied, and Jilly came running and nothing else was said.

Camila waved to Betty Sue, Jolene and Rhonda, another mother. Jilly crawled into the back seat.

Button barked excitedly and jumped into Jilly’s arms.

“Hi, Mama, Benita.” She leaned over and kissed them, holding Button. “This is so totally cool—all of us together.” Then she rolled down the window and waved at her friends as Camila drove away.

“Buckle your seat belt,” Camila said.

“Mama,” Jilly sighed. “I’m not five.”

“Oops. I forgot. You’re a day away from being twelve.”

“Right. Benita, I’m glad you’re here for my birthday. Mama makes it a special day. She even bakes my cake. That’s the first thing I’ll smell in the morning. Then we have my private birthday—just Mama and me. I don’t know what I’ll do when I grow up and go away to college and have to leave Mama. But don’t tell my friends that.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Benita said, glancing at Camila.

Those innocently spoken words made Camila feel so much better. She and Jilly had a good relationship; other relationships could only make it stronger.

She would see to that.

When Camila drove into the circular drive, the front door opened and Tripp came onto the veranda. His shirt hung over his jeans and his hair was tousled, as if he’d been working. She felt that familiar flutter in her stomach.

“Bye, Mama, Benita.” Jilly gave them quick kisses and was gone.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” Camila called.

“Okay.”

Jilly’s thoughts were now on the Danielses and Camila experienced a moment of loneliness. She’d have to work on letting go.

“Doesn’t feel very good, does it?” Benita asked as Camila drove away.

“What?”

“Leaving your child?”

She glanced at her mother, saw the pain on her face and wasn’t sure what to say.

“I felt that way every time I left you, but I always thought
Madre
was better for you. Now I can see that I was wrong. I should have tried to be a mother instead of someone dropping in and out of your life.”

Camila blinked away a tear. “I never knew you felt that way.”

“Surprising, huh?” Benita brushed back her hair. “I see you with Jilly and I envy that closeness. Jilly adores you and she thinks you can do anything. I wish we had a similar relationship. At least one where you liked me.”

“We’ll work on it.” She held out her hand to her mother and Benita placed hers in it. Camila squeezed, as did Benita. “We don’t really know each other, so spending time together should be a good starting point.”

“I agree,” Benita said, “but you’re so busy.”

“I can always use help.”

“Deal,” Benita replied.

Camila knew their relationship was changing for the better. Maybe because they were older. Or maybe because they were mother and daughter. Whatever the reason, they loved each other and Camila needed her mother.

Now more than ever.

♦ ♦ ♦

B
ENITA HAD GONE HOME
and Camila was working in the shop when the phone rang.

“Mama, we’re having a cookout,” Jilly said. “Can I stay until eight o’clock? I’m having a really good time.”

No. No. I want you to come home.

“Sure, baby,” came out of her mouth. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Thanks, Mama. Tripp wants you to come, too.”

She bit her lip, wanting to accept, but knowing that Tripp was just trying to be polite. “No, thanks. I have a lot of work to do. I’ll be there at eight.”

“Mama?”

“I’ll be there at eight, Jilly.” Her voice was stern and Jilly recognized it.

“Okay. Bye.”

Camila took a moment to compose herself. Jilly was having a good time. That’s what mattered. As she stood there staring at the phone, she realized something about herself. She wasn’t good at sharing. Only because she’d never had to share Jilly before. She had a lot to learn.

Now she had time to finish preparations for the party. The domino game was at Slim’s house tonight because Camila wanted to decorate the coffee shop. Everyone wanted Jilly to have a wonderful day.

“Need any help, sweetie?” Millie asked as Camila placed boxes of decorations on a table.

“My mother’s going to help.” She hadn’t asked Benita, but she knew she’d come if she asked. This could be their time together.

“I guess miracles do happen,” Millie replied, tongue in cheek, taking off her apron.

“Millie.”

“Okay. I’m bad and too old to change.”

“For me would you please try to get along with her?”

“For you, sweetie, I’d do anything. But don’t expect too much.” She picked up a tray of snacks. “I’ll take these over to the domino players and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Bye, Millie.”

Camila locked the door behind her and sorted through the box of decorations. She glanced at her watch and decided to give Benita time to finish supper, then she’d call her.

She pulled out the helium machine she’d rented and began to blow up balloons and tie them together with colorful ribbons. Jilly liked balloons and Camila planned to fill the shop with them.

Absorbed in her task, she jumped when someone tapped at the door. She wondered if Millie had forgotten something or it could be her mother. She hurried to the door and stopped in her tracks when she saw who it was. Tripp stood outside.

The first thought that occurred to her was that something had happened to Jilly. She yanked open the door.

“What’s wrong? Is Jilly okay?”

“Whoa.” Tripp held up a hand. “Jilly’s fine.”

“Oh.” She let out a long breath.

“I came to take you to the cookout.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Jilly was very quiet after she talked with you and I know she wants you there so I’m asking in person. Please come to supper.”

“Oh.” Her pulse skittered alarmingly and she wondered what he’d say if she told him she’d never been on a date. Patrick had driven her out to Lady Luck several times and that was the closest she’d ever come to one. Of course, this wasn’t a date—just an invitation. But she sensed it could be more.

“I really have a lot of work to do to get ready for Jilly’s party.”

Tripp glanced at the clumps of balloon floating on the ceiling. “I thought work was an excuse.”

“No.”

He grinned. “Tell you what, you come to supper and I’ll help you decorate later.”

“I really…”

“Jilly wants you there. I want you there.” His eyes held hers. “Please.”

All her common sense left her at the sound of that one word. The blue eyes so tempting didn’t help either. “Okay,” she heard herself saying.

He smiled and her knees felt weak. “Get your coat and let’s go. Jilly’s waiting.”

“I…I can come in my car.”

“I’ll bring you back. Remember I have to help with the decorations.”

“That’s really—”

He held up one finger. “No arguing.”

Before she knew it, she was in his truck heading for Lady Luck. There was something intimate about being in the cab with him, within touching distance, breathing the same air. The cab smelled faintly of leather, old boots and a fragrance she couldn’t define, unless masculinity had a smell.

Sunglasses rested on the dash along with a pair of leather gloves. On the back seat were a couple of ropes.

“Do you always carry ropes with you?”

He slanted her a smile. “Never know when you might need one.”

She knew he was a championship calf roper. “The year you won the national championship, the whole town watched.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Rose brought in a bigger TV and the place was packed with people watching.”

“Did you watch?”

Like a fool.
“Yes, I did. I thought you were great.”

“Thank you. That year my friend, Colter Kincaid, won the bareback championship. We were feeling pretty good about ourselves.”

“And you won it the next year.”

He glanced at her. “So you keep up with the rodeo?”

“It’s hard not to do with everyone in town talking about it. You’ve put Bramble on the map and everyone is proud of you.”

“Are you?”

They drove into the circular drive and Jilly came running out, preventing Camila from answering. She was more than grateful for that reprieve.

“Mama.” Jilly hugged her. “I’m glad you changed your mind.” Jilly took her hand and led her into the house. “We’ve been real busy cleaning. Mrs. Daniels is getting her eyes done and Tripp wants the house similar to what it used to be when she sees it clearly again. Tripp didn’t want me to help, but I told him I know how to clean. I’ve dusted everything and Mr. Daniels says the staircase sparkles like a brand new silver dollar. Mrs. Daniels is taking care of Button.” Jilly pulled her into the living room, chattering nonstop.

“Camila, I’m so glad you came,” Leona said, sitting on the sofa, holding Button.

“Now maybe we can eat,” Grif added in his grumpy voice.

Jilly wagged a finger at him. “You have to be nice.”

“Fiddle faddle.”

“Balderdash,” Jilly countered.

“Poppycock.”

“Hogwash.”

“Dang-nab it, girl,” Grif growled with a grin on his face. “You’re not supposed to talk back.”

Jilly placed her hands on her hips. “Are you going to be nice?”

“Aw. Okay.” Grif glanced at Camila. “Your daughter is running me ragged.”

“Yes. I can see.” Jilly was so comfortable with them, as they were with her. Any awkwardness had completely vanished. But Camila wasn’t so sure about the Danielses accepting her.

“We’ll eat on the patio if that’s okay with everyone,” Tripp said.

“Isn’t it too cold out there?” Grif asked with his usual impatience.

“The temperature is in the sixties, but it’s pleasant outside. Jilly has the table all set.”

Leona got to her feet and Button jumped out of her arms and trotted to Camila. “By all means, we’ll eat on the patio,” Leona said.

Camila picked up Button, glad of something to hold. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing,” Tripp replied. “Jilly, Morris and I have it under control.”

Tripp took Leona’s elbow and they went through the French doors to the patio. Morris stood at a grill with a large white apron covering him.

“Miss Camila, it’s good to see you,” Morris said.

“Thank you, Morris. Can I help?”

“Yes, ma’am. You can sit down and stay out of my way. Don’t like women telling me what to do. You’ve been working all day so take a load off.”

Camila took a seat by Leona. “I apologize for the men in my family. Manners are not a strong suit.”

“I’m working on them,” Jilly said, standing between Leona and Camila.

“You’re doing a marvelous job,” Leona replied.

Camila glanced at the table with the blue napkins and a bright colored ribbon tied around each, like Camila did at home. “The table looks wonderful,” she said to Jilly.

“I did everything like you do, Mama.”

“Yes. I see.”

“How do you want your burger, Miss Camila?” Morris asked.

“Well done.”

“No blood in mine,” Jilly said.

“Yes, Miss Jilly, you’ve already told me that.”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

The meal passed in a flurry of chatter—mostly Jilly’s. It was as if she’d known the three older people all her life.

“Mrs. Daniels is having surgery on Monday, Mama,” Jilly announced.

“That’s wonderful,” Camila replied. “It’s going to make a world of difference.”

“That’s what my son tells me.”

Camila sensed Leona’s nervousness. “I know several ladies that have had it done and it’s quite simple. It’s an out-patient type thing and then no bending or lifting for a few days. You’ll be able to see much better.”

“Oh, I hope so.”

“I’ll come keep you company,” Jilly promised.

“I’ll look forward to that.”

The wind grew chilly and Leona and Grif went inside with Jilly and Button while Tripp and Camila cleared the table and carried the dishes to the kitchen.

“I’ll do the dishes,” Camila offered.

“No, no, no,” Morris snapped. “Don’t want a woman in my kitchen. I ain’t gotten so old to where I can’t do a few dishes.”

Tripp caught her elbow and guided her out onto the patio. “We could use a bottle of Prozac around here every day.”

Camila smiled, sitting in a chair. “That’s just older people. They’re quite candid.”

Tripp pulled up a chair and sat facing her, their knees inches apart. It was almost too close for comfort, but it was nice—just the two of them alone with the night surrounding them.

“By the end of the day, I’m feeling as if I need a shot of whiskey or just wishing for someone to shoot me.”

She suppressed a laugh. “You’re doing very well and the place is looking much better.”

“I have aches and pains to prove that, but I want the place halfway decent by the time my mother can see again.”

“That’s very nice.”

Silence grew heavy.

“How are you?” Tripp asked.

“Fine.” Her gaze centered on his face. “Your bruises are healing.”

He touched the fading darkness around his eye. “Yeah. My aches are about gone, too.”

There was silence again.

Tripp shifted uncomfortably. “I know how hard it was to talk about Patrick the other night.”

She linked her fingers together. “I’ve never told anyone what really happened.”

“I just keep thinking I could have stopped everything.”

Her eyes shot to his. “How?”

“When you were dizzy and I caught you, you moved your body against mine and I thought you were coming on to me.”

“Oh,” slipped from her lips.

“I knew you were either drunk or drugged, but still I did nothing.”

“Why?”

He took a long breath. “Because I believed the rumors and when I saw you coming out of Patrick’s room, it confirmed everything I was thinking. Or so I thought.” His eyes held hers. “I’m so sorry.”

She swallowed hard, trying not to let that hurt. Her cowboy had feet of clay. He was human. She cleared her throat and glanced up at the stars, needing to be honest but knowing this truth would not come easy. “I was probably coming on to you. I remember seeing you and wishing I could dance with you.”

He shook his head. “Why do you do that?”

“What?”

“Take the blame for everything.”

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “Maybe because it’s true.”

“It’s not.” His eyes darkened. “You should be angry that I didn’t take you home right then and there.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Now who’s taking the blame?”

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, leaving it tousled and making him that much more attractive. “I’m just impressed that you’ve handled everything so well—impressed that you’re not filled with anger and hatred.”

Her fingers tightened. “I was for a while. I just wanted to crawl away and die, but then I discovered I was pregnant—an innocent little baby—and I had to rise above everything I was feeling and make a life for her.”

“I’m totally blown away with all you’ve accomplished.”

She moved uneasily. “Thank you.”

He looked into her eyes. “Something about Patrick’s accident is bothering me.”

“What?”

“I’d always thought Patrick was angry at me for mentioning the drugs to my parents and for coming to your aid, but as I think back over our conversation that day, Patrick seemed more bent on revenge. He said they used him and he knew how to get even. I’m just recalling some of this because I’ve been fixated on blaming myself. Did Patrick mention any of this to you when he was at your house?”