The Cowboy's Return (19 page)

Tripp handed his father his cane. “So I guess Jilly’s not important enough to make a little sacrifice.”

“I’m sorry I hit you,” Leona said.

“Never knew you had a mean right,” Grif responded.

“Just remember that.”

“Bed,” Tripp intervened before he lost every ounce of his patience.

He finally trudged up the stairs and fell across the bed. He didn’t bother with the light or removing his clothes. What a night! He was totally spent.

Why did his father have to bring up Tripp’s feelings for Camila? Tripp hadn’t lied. There wasn’t anything between them—not then. But now he’d tried on several occasions and Camila had made her feelings very clear. When did he accept defeat? When did he give up and get on with his life?

When he could stop thinking about her, every minute of every hour of every day. That sounded like never, and all Camila wanted to do was get away as fast as possible.

From his crazy family, and from him.

♦ ♦ ♦

A
LL THE WAY HOME
, one thing resounded in Camila’s head over and over. The Danielses knew she had feelings for Tripp—feelings she would never admit to because it would only cause more pain. Why? she suddenly asked herself. Why would loving Tripp cause more pain? So many truths had been revealed tonight and she had to dig deep to dredge up her feelings. And it had nothing to do with Jilly. Trip had believed the rumors about her. When he’d admitted that, she’d said that it didn’t matter, but it did. If he could believe that about her… Her head pounded from all the insecurities and doubts.

“You loved her, too,” Grif had said.
Camila was Patrick’s girlfriend and I respected that.
That’s what she was to him and always would be. But she’d never been Patrick’s girlfriend the way Patrick had wanted, and she’d suffered so much over that. She’d paid a high price for not being in love with him, but she had Jilly and that was a very big reward.

She needed time to regroup and get herself together and sort through the confusion. She was sure that nothing else would be done about custody of Jilly. That would be an enormous relief for Jilly. And her.

She walked into her kitchen and removed her coat. She could hear the TV in the living room and she made her way there. Benita sat on the sofa, her feet propped up on the coffee table, munching on popcorn watching an old W. C. Fields movie. For once in her life, Camila was grateful for her mother.

She stepped over Benita’s legs and plopped down close to her.

“Hey, chick, is this the only place to sit?” Benita teased.

“Yes. I need to be close to my mother.”

Benita reached for her hand. “How did it go?”

“Bad, disturbing and good all rolled into one, but the custody thing over Jilly is settled. Grif just wanted a bit of Patrick in his home.” Holding Benita’s hand, she made a decision. “I need to tell you something and it won’t be easy.” She took a breath. “I want you to know how Jilly was conceived. And no guilty feelings.”

“Okay, chick,” Benita said.

She told her every little detail of that night.

“I wasn’t here for you,” Benita wailed. “I should have been here for you.”

“No guilt, Benita, remember? I had to stand on my own two feet and I became a stronger person able to raise my daughter. I’m only telling you this so all the secrets are out in the open and we can start living as a family—a real family.”

“I’d like that,” Benita said. “But I’m feeling a lot of rage at the moment and it might take me a while to get over that.”

“But you will.”

“For you, I’ll give it my best shot.” Benita set the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. “If we’re not going to have any more secrets, I need to tell you something, too.”

“Okay.” Camila sat sideways to face her mother.

“I know the rumors about my less-than-stellar reputation hurt you.”

“Yes,” Camila admitted.

Benita looked at her. “Do you know how many men I’ve slept with?”

Camila shook her head. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

“Four. I’ve slept with four men and I was married to all of them. Travis was the only one I slept with without a wedding ring.”

“But…but the gossip and the men bringing you home.”

“That’s all they did—buy me coffee and dinner after my shift ended and bring me home. The guys were the ones who embellished the evenings into something more. Men do love to brag.”

Oh no.
Camila was no better than the other bigots in this town. She’d believed everything she’d heard. She reached for Benita. “I’m so sorry. Why did you never try to talk to me?”

Benita wiped the tears from Camila’s face. “Would you have believed me?”

Camila couldn’t answer because she didn’t really know.

“Don’t worry about it, chick. I gave them plenty of ammunition. I wore my clothes tight and I danced and drank, but there was always a stopping point for me. I’m what’s known as a tease, a flirt.”

Camila still was speechless, seeing her mother so differently. Taking Benita’s hand, she raised it up. “To trust, family and happier times.”

“Hear, hear,” Benita said.

Later, Camila sat in bed with her knees drawn up, staring into the darkness, letting all the insecurities and shame from her childhood rise to the surface. Benita’s confession was like opening a window into her inner self. She had judged her mother because of the gossip and her mother’s behavior. And it had all been false.

Camila’s one goal in life had been never to be like Benita. So she’d lived her life accordingly, always putting Jilly first, never wanting her to experience shame. Unlike her relationship with Benita, Jilly had faith in Camila. She would never believe anything bad about her mother, and she was always the first to tell people how nice Camila was. She didn’t even falter in telling that to the Danielses. They had a strong bond and nothing was ever going to break that. Camila wished she’d had that same kind of faith in Benita.

She sighed, leaning back against the headboard and seeing her life so clearly now. Determined not to be like her mother, she’d become quiet and shy, not interacting with the other kids. She’d repressed her emotions, but that night when Patrick had put the drug in her drink, she’d become like her mother—wanting Tripp and tempting Patrick. She’d blamed herself for everything because—she took a deep breath—she’d believed the rumors about herself. Because she was Benita’s daughter.

Oh, God!
She sucked in a breath.

She wasn’t to blame for anything. She didn’t deserve what had happened and Patrick had hurt her more than she could ever admit. Until now.

It had hurt when Tripp had said he’d believed the rumors about Camila, but she’d given him reason to believe. She could see that now with more insight. She’d done the same thing—believed the spiteful gossip about her mother. Benita wasn’t the tramp Camila had envisioned in her head. And Camila wasn’t either. Maybe there was hope for Camila. Maybe there was hope that she could love Tripp.

She sat there for a long time realizing she had to shed the shackles of the past to accept a future with Tripp. And she wanted that. She wanted to start living and experiencing life the way that she should—as a woman with a man she loved.

The night of Jilly’s party, she’d told Tripp that Patrick would always be between them. It wasn’t Patrick. It was her fear of being like her mother. She would let go of that fear now.

She ran her fingers through her long hair, feeling out of breath from all the inner revelations. The window, her heart, was wide open now. One thing niggled at her. How did Tripp really feel about her?

It took a minute, then she picked up the phone and dialed the ranch. Tripp answered on the second ring. For a moment she couldn’t speak as she struggled for the right words.

“Hello, is anyone there?”

“It’s me, Camila,” she managed to say.

“Are you okay?” A concerned, loving note was in his voice that she was beginning to recognize.

“Yes. I’m much better.”

“I want you to know I would never hurt Jilly or betray your trust in me. I had no idea what my dad was up to.”

“I know.” And she did. She knew Tripp would always be there for them. “Could we talk, please?”

“Sure. I’ll be right over.”

“No. Not tonight. It’s late and it’s been a long evening. There’s a meeting about renovating the gym tomorrow. Could we meet after that?”

“Yes. That’s fine. You don’t have to worry about the custody thing.” He seemed to think that’s what she wanted to talk about.

“I’m not. I want to talk about you and me.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

♦ ♦ ♦

T
RIPP HUNG UP AND STARED
at the phone. What did that mean? No matter what Camila wanted to talk about, he would be there tomorrow, and he would fight to be a part of her life.

The next morning, Camila felt as if she’d just been released from prison and she kept smiling. Jilly was happy too—there would be no custody hearing.

Jilly made a face sitting at the table eating oatmeal. “I was like a total baby yesterday. I just wanted my mama.” She took a swallow of milk. “I’m a total knucklehead, too. I’m twelve years old and I can speak for myself. I’m telling Mr. Daniels that I’m staying with you.”

Camila sat down, knowing they had to talk about something else. “Jilly, why is Patrick’s photo in your drawer?”

“I thought of putting it on my nightstand, but I didn’t want to make you sad. It’s in my drawer, in my secret place. When I want to see what he looks like, I just open it and there he is, but…”

“But what?”

“When I look at him, I feel, like, funny. I’m supposed to have feelings for him, but I don’t. He’s just someone I don’t know. Is that really bad?”

“No, baby.” Camila hugged her. “Benita gave me something I want to show you.” She grabbed her purse and fished out Travis’s picture. “This is my father and I feel a little strange when I look at him, too. So I think I’ll put this in a secret place and look at it when I feel a need to.”

“Like, totally cool, Mama.”

“We’re cool.” Camila smiled.

Jilly gave the victory sign. “The Walker girls are cool.”

“You bet.”

The house was cheerful again, with Jilly there, laughing and talking. In the afternoon, Benita taught Jilly some new dances that Camila had never heard of. But she laughed and laughed. She kept looking at the clock though, eager to see Tripp. Her life had been full raising Jilly, but now the woman in her needed fulfillment, needed to be touched by a man—one special man—Tripp.

Later, the girls’ basketball team had a special practice and Camila left early to watch some of it, hoping Tripp might come early, too.

Sitting in the stands, she watched her daughter sprint around the court. She was very competitive and Camila suspected that was partially Tripp’s influence. Jilly was a combination of so many people, which was good. It made her who she was—a wonderful young girl.

Camila was lost in the action, the squeak of sneakers against the hardwood floor, the shouts of Coach Smythe, the grumble of the girls. When Lurleen plopped down beside Camila, she was taken aback and felt her space invaded. Lurleen never sought her out and she was wondering why she’d chosen to sit by her today.

Jilly made a basket and waved to Camila. She waved back.

“Do you know how much I hate you?” Lurleen asked, her words slurred slightly.

“On a scale of one to ten?” Camila asked with a lifted eyebrow.

Lurleen did not pick up on the humor. “All I hear from my kids is Jilly’s mama does this and Jilly’s mama does that and I’m getting sick of it. I’m sick of you, too. Ever since high school I’ve wanted to scratch your eyes out.”

Camila drew back. “Why? You were the popular one, cheerleader, homecoming queen.”

“You know why, don’t you?” she whispered, and Camila could smell the liquor on her breath. Lurleen was drunk; Camila was glad when the girls finished practice and headed for the lockers. Coach Smythe went to his office and that left the two of them sitting on a bench with years of resentment between them.

“I was easy, not like you.” Lurleen searched for something in her purse. “You shouldn’t have been so cold, so stuck up, then maybe the boys wouldn’t have been so set on having you. Every time Wallis looks at you, he drools and I hate you for that.” She pulled a small flask out and twisted off the top.

“You shouldn’t be drinking here around the kids,” Camila told her, trying to digest what Lurleen was saying, but she wasn’t making much sense.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Lurleen spat, taking a swig from the flask. “Wallis is having an affair.”

Camila frowned, thinking she should just get up and walk away. But she’d been doing that for years. She wasn’t walking away anymore. This conversation was way overdue.

“If you’re thinking it’s me…”

Lurleen laughed, stopping her. “Oh, Camila, the pure maiden of Bramble, I know it’s not you.”

Lurleen had never called her that before and she was startled, to say the least. “Then why do you say such nasty things about me?”

“Because I can. Because it makes me feel good to see that look on your face.”

Camila sat in complete stupefaction. Was that why people said hurtful, untrue things? She’d defended herself with silence and that silence had condemned her and fueled the rumors that much more. New strength surged through her.

She took the flask out of Lurleen’s hands.

“Hey. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking the liquor away from you.” She paused purposely. “Because I can. Want to try and take it back from me?”

“You can have the damn thing. I got more in the car.”

“You’re drinking and driving with your kids in the car?”

“That’s none of your damn business, Miss Goody Two-shoes, Miss Perfect. All the boys wanted you. That’s why I hate you. You could have had any boy in high school, even my husband, but you didn’t want any of them—not even poor Patrick.”

Camila was aware that Tripp had walked in, along with several other people. If she got up and walked away, Lurleen would stop her insane tirade. But walking away was not a way out this time. This had to be settled.

“They got even, though, didn’t they, Camila? Putting the drug in your drink turned you into the woman they wanted. Wallis and Vance planned to join Patrick. Big brother, Tripp, went upstairs and they chickened out. They knew he’d kick their ass if he found out what they were planning.”

Anger shot through Camila followed by a terrifying fear. Camila could feel the train coming again and this time would be the last, this time she wouldn’t survive. That was the old reaction and it was fresh within her. But not anymore. This time she was driving the train and if she was going to feel this pain, so were a lot of other people.

Before a scathing word left her mouth, Wallis walked up to Lurleen. “You’re drunk. Go home.”

“Here’s my husband, a pillar of the community in his own mind.”

“Shut up,” Wallis hissed and jerked Lurleen to her feet, but she pulled away.

“What? You don’t want Camila to hear your plans for her that night? You couldn’t stand it that Patrick had her and not you. I was there and that’s the way you treated me. You bastard. I know you’re sleeping with the new waitress at the Hitchin’ Post.”

“Shut her up,” Vance said to Wallis.

More people walked into the gym and Tripp moved to stand beside Camila. That made her feel better, stronger.

“Cousin Vance.” Lurleen laughed. “Wallis’s running partner, his partner in crime.”

Wallis grabbed Lurleen’s arm and tried to pull her away, but again she jerked back. “Do you think you’re the only one who sleeps around? Do you think no one wants me? Well, you’re wrong. Patrick wanted me.”

The gym became so quiet that the tick of the clock on the wall could be heard.

Camila was the first to speak. “What are you talking about?”

“The next day Patrick was so hurt over what he’d done to you that he came looking for Wallis, wanting revenge. He found me instead and we figured the perfect way to get revenge. We bought a couple of six-packs and went to Lover’s Point. We had sex with the radio blaring, then we went riding and Patrick let me drive. I wanted to see how fast the Corvette could go and Patrick kept saying, ‘Faster, faster.’ We were laughing, happy, then a deer came out of nowhere and I swerved to miss it. I…I lost control and…and I just remember an awful paralyzing fear and Patrick’s screams. I still hear his screams.”

The tick of the clock became louder.

“You bitch,” Wallis said under his breath.

“How did you get out of the car?” Tripp asked in a faraway voice.

“When I came to, I saw Patrick was dead and I tried to get out, but my door wouldn’t open. The glass on the window had been shattered and I crawled through it. I was trembling and close to hysteria, but I managed to climb over the fence and I sat in the woods for a long time not knowing what to do. I just started walking through the woods toward town. I came to Mill’s Creek and washed the blood from my face and my arms. No one saw me as I came through the back way of our house. I went into my room and locked the door. I didn’t want anyone to know I’d been driving.” Tears ran down her face. “I killed Patrick and I can’t live with it anymore.” Loud sobs racked her body.

Wallis turned away.

Camila did the only thing she could. She put her arms around Lurleen and hugged her. “I’m sorry you had to live with that all these years.”

Lurleen drew back, a shocked look on her face. “Don’t be nice to me. Please don’t be nice to me.”

“That’s all I can be,” Camila told her. “I’m tired of all the backstabbing nasty rumors fueled by hurt egos.” She looked at Wallis. “I’m sorry you felt you had to hurt me and Patrick because we were different.”

Wallis’s face turned a shallow white. “Let’s just forget Lurleen got drunk and blabbed all this.”

“That would be easy, wouldn’t it?” Tripp said. “For you and for all the terrible things the Boggses have done—to Camila, to Patrick. You even attacked an old man who’s not able to defend himself.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” Wallis denied. “Your dad tried to hit Otis and he shoved him and Grif fell down. We took him to the clinic.”

“That was very big of you.” Tripp clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to control his temper.

“I think we’ll continue this conversation at the station,” Horace said.

“Horace, Horace.” A boy ran into the gym. “The Boggs boys are throwing rocks at Unie’s house.”

“Goddammit, what’s the matter with this town?” Horace headed for the door.

Camila ran out of the gym, needing to get to Unie before anyone could hurt her. She hurried to Betty Sue standing at the door. “Please take Jilly to my mother and tell her to keep Jilly there until I come.”

“Sure.” Betty Sue seemed to be in shock and Camila knew she’d heard part of what had been said. “Are you okay?”

Camila gave her a quick hug. “I’ll talk to you later. Please take care of my daughter.”

She ran for her car, but someone caught her arm and she swung around. “I’ll take you,” Tripp said. “My truck is right here.”

She jumped into his truck and they sped toward Unie’s. “You okay?” Tripp asked the same question as Betty Sue.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I’m feeling so many things and I…” Her voice faded away as they spotted Cameron and Dillon running to their bikes at the curb.

Tripp screeched to a stop, reached for his rope in the back seat and got out. Within seconds, the rope twirled above his head and sailed through the air, landing in a perfect circle around Cameron and Dillon. Tripp jerked the lasso and it tightened, holding the boys together. They struggled, trying to get away, but Tripp kept tightening the rope.

“Let us go, you bastard,” Cameron shouted.

Dillon was speechless.

Camila stood looking at Unie’s house. Every window was broken out and she wanted to cry. Unie couldn’t afford this. The roof was already leaking.

Horace drove up, followed by a stream of cars.

“What do you boys think you’re doing?” Horace asked.

“Make him let us go,” Cameron cried, his face red.

“You’re not going anywhere until I find out how much damage you’ve done.”

“My grandad’ll fire you.” Dillon spoke for the first time.

“That may be true, son, but at this moment I’m still chief and you stay tied.”

Wallis and Vance came running up. “Let the boys go,” Wallis yelled.

“My advice to you and Vance is to shut your mouth and get your checkbooks out,” Horace told them. “No one’s leaving here until I found out what kind of damage has been done.”

Bert came storming through the crowd. “Horace, you better let my grandson go this instant.”

“If you don’t stay out of this, I’ll arrest you.”

“Like hell. This eyesore should have been burned to the ground long ago. If people like Camila Walker hadn’t kept helping the old bat, she’d be in an institution somewhere.”

Camila barely heard what was being said as she hurried to Unie’s door. She knocked. “Unie, it’s Camila. Let me in. Please let me in.”

Tripp heard the plea in her voice and he handed the rope to Slim. “Don’t let up.”

“Don’t worry. These little demons aren’t going anywhere.”

Camila kept calling to her, but Unie wouldn’t respond. “Unie’s scared,” she said. “I can’t get her to come to the door.”

“Maybe she’s not home,” Tripp suggested.

“She’s always home by now.”

Tripp pushed through the shrubs to get to a window. Shattered glass was everywhere, but he managed to pull back a dirty curtain and he could see her sitting by the fire. He turned to Camila.

“She’s in there.”

Camila knocked and kept shouting, but still got no response. “Something’s wrong.”

Tripp looked at Horace. “What do you think?”

“It’s up to Camila.”

“I’ll kick the door in if you want me to,” Tripp said.

Camila pulled her jacket around herself. She didn’t want to scare Unie further, but she couldn’t leave her here either with all the windows broken out. It was supposed to be freezing by morning.

“Okay, but let me go in first.”

“Deal.” With one kick, the door split into several pieces. Tripp and Horace pulled them away.

“It’s okay, Unie. It’s Camila. Don’t be afraid.” She kept talking while they worked, hoping Unie realized they weren’t going to hurt her.

With the last board removed, Camila rushed in and stopped. The blood drained from her face and her heart stilled. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” Unie sat by the fire Camila had lit earlier, her head tilted to one side. She was dead. Camila didn’t need to touch her to know that.

As she reached down to turn off the fire, she saw Lu Lu under the sofa. She squatted and picked her up, holding the cat in her arms. Tears filled her eyes at the cruelty of kids, the cruelty of teenagers and the cruelty of mankind in general.

“Camila.” She heard Tripp’s voice and she turned to him.

He enfolded her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”