The Cowboy's Return (3 page)

Jilly’s visit plagued Tripp and triggered thoughts of Camila. He’d often wondered how her life had turned out. Evidently she hadn’t married, since Jilly’s last name was Walker.

He worked until he was exhausted and still couldn’t shake them from his mind. So he worked that much harder. He fixed the tractor and lawn mower and cut the weeds around the house and mowed the grass. He hired the Garcia brothers to repair the entrance and the fence, then he went looking for Earl Boggs, who leased the land.

The Boggs family owned the little town of Bramble. Otis Boggs had died several years ago and his widow, Thelma Bramble, was the matriarch of the family. Earl, Bert and Melvin were her sons. Bert ran the bank, Melvin the feed and hardware store, and Earl took care of the Boggs ranch. Tripp went there to talk to him, but he was told that Earl was in town.

He drove to town and still couldn’t locate Earl. Frustrated, he went back to Lady Luck, not wanting to leave his parents too long. They were napping, as was Morris, so Tripp let them rest.

He called his friend and partner, Brodie Hayes. The two of them owned a Hereford cattle ranch near Mesquite, Texas, and Tripp had to let him know he wasn’t returning as soon as he’d planned.

“So you’re not coming back for a while?” Brodie asked.

“I can’t leave my parents just yet and the place is so run down.”

“Take all the time you need. I can run this place with my eyes closed.”

“Yeah, right.”

Brodie laughed. They’d been the best of friends since their rodeo days. The two of them and Colter Kincaid, another friend and rodeo rider, lived not far from each other. Colter had married the love of his life and now had two children.

“How’s Colter and the family?”

“Wonderful. Every time I’m over there it makes me think about getting married. Then I come home and take a cold shower and it brings me to my senses.”

“I guess we’re going to be two old bachelors.”

“Yep.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Something bothering you?” Brodie asked.

He told Brodie about Jilly’s visit.

“So you think this could be your brother’s daughter?”

“I’m not sure, but I can’t stop thinking how good it would be for my parents if she was.”

“Then find out.”

That would be easy for Brodie. He was a charmer, a talker.

“Hell, Tripp, you’re not a shy sixteen-year-old. Just ask the woman, or do you think she doesn’t know who the father is?”

“Not sure about that either, but I’ll definitely speak to her. Talk to you in a couple of days.”

Tripp stared at the phone. He’d never told Brodie or anyone about his feelings for Camila. Feelings? He scoffed at the word and forced himself to call it what it was—good old-fashioned lust. Every time he’d looked at her, he hadn’t been able to think straight, and she’d been a teenager and… That was in the past—a past he’d just as soon forget. He knew what he had to do for his family. He left a note for Morris and drove back to town.

♦ ♦ ♦

C
AMILA LOCKED UP
for the day and saw Eunice Gimble across the street, pushing her shopping cart of plastic bags filled with aluminum cans. Unie was the can lady of Bramble. She was close to ninety and picked up cans from the street, diner, beer joints and roadsides, any place she could find them.

Camila went over to her. A dirty black coat covered with cat hair hung on her thin body and she wore a multicolored wool scarf tied around her head. “Hi, Unie,” Camila said.

Unie whirled around, a frown on her wrinkled face. “Oh, Camila, it’s you. Thought you were someone trying to steal my cans.”

Unie’s mind wasn’t right. Sometimes she made sense and sometimes she didn’t, but she always talked about people being after her cans or her money. She lived in a run down house with weeds grown to the windowsills, and everyone knew she didn’t have any money.

Camila didn’t understand why the people of Bramble didn’t try to help her. She and Jilly were the only ones concerned about Unie. They mowed her grass when Unie would let them. Unie didn’t take kindly to charity. They still took her food and checked on her, but Unie needed more attention than that. People of Bramble tended to leave her alone, except those who made fun of her.

“Would you like a ride home? I can put your cart in the back of my Suburban.” Camila always felt sorry for this old lady who was all alone and lived in her own little world.

“Nope. Not through for the day.”

A purr rippled from the plastic bags and Lu Lu, Unie’s black-and-white cat and constant companion, raised her head from the bags.

Unie stroked Lu Lu for a second then pushed her cart farther down the street, pausing to look in a trash can.

Camila shook her head and headed for her car and home. Jilly was in her room, doing her homework. As part of her punishment, she wasn’t allowed to visit with her girlfriends after school.

Camila had been on pins and needles waiting for Tripp to make an appearance, but so far he hadn’t. Maybe he was going to forget about Jilly’s visit. Looking in the fridge, she tried to decide what they’d have for supper.

The doorbell rang and she went to answer it. Her breath stalled in her throat.

Tripp Daniels stood there with his hat in his hand. His chiseled features were bronzed by the sun and his blond streaked hair curled into the collar of a blue-and-white pin-striped shirt. Wrangler jeans molded his long legs and cowboy boots made his legs seem that much longer. A silver buckle gleamed on a tooled leather belt. His eyes were as striking and blue as a Texas sky, and he looked more handsome than she ever remembered. She hated herself for recognizing that.

And she hated that stir of excitement in her stomach.

“Tripp.” His name slipped out before she could stop it. She didn’t want them to be on a first-name basis.

“Camila.” He nodded. “Could I speak with you for a second?” He had a deep Texas drawl that as a silly teenager had evoked visions in her head of satin sheets, champagne, roses and soft music. Sadly, it still did.

“That’s not necessary.” She shook the image away, her hand gripping the doorknob to still the nervous flutter in her stomach. “Jilly told me what she did and I promise she won’t bother your family again.”

“She wasn’t bothering us,” he said, twisting his hat. “Could I come in, please?”

No. No. No.

“We don’t have anything to say to each other.”

He glanced at the street, then back at her, almost as if he was resigning himself to the fact he wasn’t getting past her doorway. “That’s where you’re wrong. I think we have a lot to talk about. If you want to have this conversation out here, well, I guess we can.”

She glared at him for forcing the issue, but stepped aside, knowing she might as well get this over with. “You’ve got five minutes, Mr. Daniels.”

He lifted an eyebrow at that. “Tripp, please.”

She’d always thought that was a strange name to give a child. But it had been his mother’s maiden name. Leona was the last of the Tripps and she wanted the name carried on.

They walked into the living room and Camila quickly moved the baby eyelet quilt in the quilting hoop from the sofa. She’d planned on finishing it tonight. As she turned, she bumped into him. She hadn’t realized he was so close behind her. His body was hard and firm, and his tangy aftershave jolted her senses, reminding her of that night. She jerked away. She didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t be that close to him and not remember.

Was there a look of sympathy in his eyes? That was the last thing she wanted from Tripp Daniels. He eased onto the sofa and she perched on the edge of a chair and waited. She knew what was coming.

Suddenly the living room seemed small, way too small. He looked out of place on her beige sofa and colorful throw pillows. She had trouble breathing and she didn’t know why, but something about having a Daniels in her home was unnerving.

He placed his hat beside himself and clasped his hands together. “I was surprised to see your daughter the other day.”

Your daughter.
No mention of Patrick. Her jaw clenched tight.

“I told you that won’t happen again.” She kept her back straight, her hands folded in her lap.

“Obviously she believes we’ve slighted her.”

“As I said—”

He cut in. “Jilly looks a lot like you.”

Camila stiffened even more. “Yes.”

His gaze locked with hers. “This might be out of line, but I’d like to know if she’s Patrick’s?”

She sprang to her feet. “If you have to ask that question, then I don’t want you in my house. Please leave.”

As if she hadn’t spoken, he said, “I’ve been away for a long time and I was surprised to find my parents in such bad shape.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she said the first thing that came to mind. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have stayed away so long.”

He inhaled deeply. “If Jilly is Patrick’s, she could be what they need to give them a will to live. I’m asking a yes or no question.”

She bristled even more. “Jilly is not a dose of medicine. She’s a loving young girl and I will not have her hurt. Your parents have not shown the slightest interest in her.”

“I said that badly. I apologize.”

Camila marched to the door. “Mr. Daniels, Jilly is my daughter and no concern of yours or your family.”

He didn’t budge. “I’d like to have a DNA test done.”

She whirled around. “What?”

“Patrick could be the father. I want to know for sure.” His blue eyes turned to the color of steel.

Could be. Could be.
Her blood pressure soared.

“Never. Now get out of my house.”

Tripp slowly stood, knowing he’d stepped over the line of good manners, but something about being this close to Camila made him act and do things out of character. When Patrick had brought her out to the ranch, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. People had called her trash, but he’d seen an unbelievably beautiful young woman with dark eyes and hair who moved with a sensuousness he’d never seen before.

Looking at her now, he saw the same thing, but a mature version. The years had been kind to Camila. A clip held her long hair away from the clean lines of her face and her olive skin was touchable perfection. In jeans and a T-shirt, her body was more riveting than a starlet in a skimpy three-thousand-dollar gown. But the eyes were always what got him—dark as the night, as deep as the ocean and as mysterious as the Marfa lights, yet there was a hidden pain in them that she couldn’t disguise.

Thirteen years and she still made his heart race, and his body… He cleared his mind, searching for the right words to apologize again.

Jilly walked into the room. “Mama…” Her voice trailed away when she saw him. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Hi, Jilly.”

Jilly glanced at her mother then back at Tripp. “Hi.”

“Mr. Daniels was just leaving,” Camila said.

Tripp turned back to the sofa and retrieved his hat. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t frighten you the other day.” The excuse sounded lame to his own ears, but he found he couldn’t say anything that would hurt this young girl. He’d have to sort this out with Camila, but at the moment, her dark eyes were about to sear him into a pile of ashes.

Jilly reached down and picked up her dog, who was making soft noises at her feet. “No. I’m fine.”

Tripp nodded. “Good.”

He headed for the door.

“Mr. Daniels?” Jilly asked.

He looked back. “Yes.”

“Are Mr. and Mrs. Daniels okay?”

Tripp was taken aback for a second. “Their health’s not very good but they’re okay.”

“Do they need anything?”

This time he didn’t know what to say. He’d never met anyone like Jilly before, except… For a moment he was shaken by the thought.

“Because I run errands for a lot of people,” Jilly informed him. “And if they need anything, I can pedal it out there. It doesn’t take long.”

Don’t do this, Jilly. Baby, don’t do this.
Camila’s heart broke at the entreaty in her daughter’s voice. Jilly wanted to help the Danielses. It was very evident Jilly wanted to know her father’s family and Camila had to let it happen. But she would fiercely guard her daughter’s feelings.

“I’ll remember that,” Tripp said and placed his hat on his head. At the door, he spoke to Camila. “I’m sorry if my visit has disturbed you. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Goodbye.” She closed the door, unable to deal with anything else right now but her daughter.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Jilly said as Camila walked into the living room.

Camila sat on the sofa, bracing herself to tell Jilly about Patrick. She looked at her daughter. “Never be afraid to talk to me.”

“I’m not, Mama.”

“But you’re curious about your father and his family, so let’s talk about it.” She patted the spot beside her.

“Okay.” Jilly nestled into Camila’s side and Camila wrapped an arm around her. Button curled into a ball on her lap.

“Did my daddy look like Mr. Daniels?”

“Some.” Camila ran her fingers through Jilly’s dark tresses. “They have the same blond hair and blue eyes, but Tripp was the handsome older brother. Girls noticed him and he was popular. Patrick, on the other hand, was very shy and always felt overshadowed by his big brother. They lived on a ranch, but Patrick was never interested in horses or cows. He always had his head in a book and when he got his first computer, well, he found his joy. He was going to be a computer engineer.”

“But he got killed?”

“Yes.” Camila’s hand stopped. She could still feel that pain of long ago when she’d been told of Patrick’s death.

“And you and he were in love?”

She chose her words carefully. “Patrick and I were very good friends. We had been since kindergarten. Patrick was my protector. When kids said bad things about me or Benita, he’d always take up for me. He had a very big heart and I loved him for that.” She hadn’t been in love with Patrick, though—that’s what had caused the problem. She’d cared for him a great deal and had been so grateful for his support. But Patrick had wanted more.

“Why do the Danielses think you’re so bad?”