The Cowboy's Return (11 page)

Tripp sighed and went to find his parents. They were in the living room doing their usual thing. Leona was listening to a book on tape and Grif was watching sports.

When Grif saw Tripp, he immediately clicked off the TV. “Did you see Earl in town?”

“No.” He’d looked for Earl and had gone into the bank to thank Mrs. Boggs. She’d said that Earl was on the ranch and wouldn’t be bothering the Danielses again. He’d thanked her and left, knowing the situation was over.

“Good. Maybe we’ve seen the last of him and his boys.” Grif strained to see behind Tripp. “Did you bring Jilly?”

“No, Dad, but I did talk to Camila.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she wouldn’t stop Jilly from coming, but she has school and after school activities.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Jilly can come when she has time.”

“We get to see her every now and then, is that it?”

“We can be patient,” Leona said.

“No we can’t,” Grif snapped. “She’s Patrick’s daughter and I want her here.”

“I do, too,” Leona replied. “But we can’t deny her for twelve years and then expect her to be an overnight granddaughter. We have to be patient.”

“Fiddle-faddle.”

Tripp sat by his mother. “Wouldn’t you love to see that granddaughter, Mom?”

Leona held a hand to her chest. “Oh, my, yes.”

“Then why haven’t you had the cataract surgery?”

“She’s scared, that’s why,” Grif told him.

“There’s nothing to be scared of and I’ll be with you.”

Fear and the stubbornness Morris had mentioned tightened his mother’s jaw. But Tripp had a secret weapon. Jilly.

“Jilly has dark hair and beautiful dark eyes and they flash with a soft light when she talks. At times she has this expression—it’s hard to explain—kind of like Patrick when he was at his computer. He was at peace with the world. Jilly has that same look—she’s at peace with her world.”

Leona hiccuped a sob.

“I’ll make an appointment in the morning, Mom. What do you say?”

Her hands trembled. “Are you taking me?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be with you through the whole thing.”

She hiccuped again. “I’m scared to death, but I want to see Patrick’s daughter.”

“Good, then I’ll make the arrangements.”

Tripp helped his parents to bed, feeling good about this victory. His mother was going to see again. How could she not want to do this? Depression. She’d given up. But now Jilly was bringing new life to Lady Luck—just like he knew she would.

He fell across the bed, wishing he and Camila had been able to finish their conversation.

Maybe soon.

“It’s cool Benita’s home, don’t you think, Mama?” Jilly leaned against the headboard in a big T-shirt and pink flannel pajama bottoms, cuddling Button.

“Benita and I have a different relationship than you.” Camila answered truthfully, like she always tried to do.

“But you love her.”

Did she? At ten, when Benita had left, she’d hated her for not fighting to take Camila. She’d wanted to be with her mother. After that, their relationship had been strained and they’d never talked about that time. Maybe now that they were older they should.

She glanced at Jilly’s expectant face. “Yes. I love her, but sometimes she makes me very angry.”

“Do I make you angry?”

“No.” Camila brushed Jilly’s hair back. “You never make me angry.”

Jilly fidgeted in the bed. “When you found out you were pregnant and my daddy was dead, were you angry you were going to have a baby?”

Her heart took a nosedive and it was a moment before she could answer. How could she tell her daughter about that awful time, the insecurities, the heartache and the pain? Camila kissed Jilly’s cheek, still wanting to be truthful. “I can honestly say I was never angry at you, just overwhelmed with grief and worry. I didn’t know how I was going to raise you, care for you.”

“But you did good. You’re the best mama in Bramble.”

“That’s because I have this wonderful daughter who’s an absolute joy.”

Jilly giggled and slid beneath the covers. “I love you, Mama.”

Camila straightened the blanket. Hearing those words made everything she went through worthwhile. Jilly made everything worthwhile.

“I love you, too, baby.”

She fiddled with the blanket knowing she had to tell Jilly about her talk with Tripp.

“I spoke with Tripp today.”

Jilly’s eyes sparkled. “You did? Is he okay?”

“Yes, and the Danielses would like to see you again.”

“Really?” Her eyes grew brighter. “I can go tomorrow.”

“You have basketball practice and you promised to help Mrs. Haskell.”

“Oh.” Jilly pleated the sheet. “Then I’ll go on Friday. I’ll leave right after school and take Button. Is that okay, Mama?”

Button, hearing her name, poked her head from beneath the covers and barked. Jilly gathered her close and Camila patted Button’s head.

“Yes. That’s okay, but I’ll drive you. I don’t like you going that far on your bicycle.”

“Okay, Mama. Good night.” Jilly gave her a quick kiss.

“Good night, baby.”

♦ ♦ ♦

S
O MANY THINGS
were crowding in on Camila. Most of all, she had this fear she was going to lose Jilly to the Danielses. That was irrational, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness, of letting her child grow and make her own decisions. And it was very obvious Jilly wanted to be a part of her father’s family.

Where does that leave me?

Alone—with a capital
A.

She should go to bed, but she was restless and knew she wouldn’t sleep. Maybe she’d go to bed in Jilly’s room and just hold her. No, that wasn’t the answer either.

A tap at the back door sounded and she jumped.

Who could that be at this late hour? She went to the door and pulled the curtain back. Tripp stood there.

Her heart jerked in her chest. What was he doing here? She wouldn’t open the door and maybe he’d go away. But the lights were on; he knew she was still up. She was caught. She opened the door.

“I know it’s late,” Tripp said, “but I saw your light on and I thought we could finish our talk.”

She stepped aside, giving in to the inevitable. “Yes, it is late.”

He removed his hat and suddenly the room was too small. She wanted to push him out the door and not have this conversation, not have anything to do with Tripp Daniels. But that was childish. She had to talk to him—no matter how painful it was.

“Is Jilly asleep?” he asked.

She tightened the belt of her terry cloth robe, feeling self-conscious. “Yes. Have a seat.”

He sat at her kitchen table, placing his hat in front of himself. “I apologize for the lateness of the hour, but I was passing by and—” He stopped. “That’s a lie. I couldn’t sleep so I came to see you—to see if you’d talked to Jilly.”

“Yes,” she replied, touched by his honesty. “She’ll come on Friday afternoon.” Camila was aware she must look a sight with her hair hanging down her back and her face scrubbed clean—not to mention the ratty bathrobe and fuzzy slippers.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll bring her because I don’t like her going that far on her bike, but I won’t stay.”

“You’re welcome to.”

“No, thanks. I won’t be going back to Lady Luck.” She sat across from him, knowing she had to get this over with. “You wanted to talk about Patrick.”

“Yes.”

She clenched her hands in her lap. “What do you want to know?”

“That night of Patrick’s graduation party—was Patrick taking drugs?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking that?”

He took a moment. “You see, I blame myself for Patrick’s death and my parents blamed me, too. That’s why I’ve been gone so long. Dad said I wasn’t his son anymore and told me to never come back.”

Camila was shocked. She’d never dreamed he’d gone through anything like that. She’d just assumed he was over-wrought with grief and couldn’t come home.

“Why would your dad say that?”

“Because that night there was a lot of drinking and bragging going on and a lot of tiny white packets floating around. I saw Wallis handing something to Patrick. Later when Patrick and you started acting out of character, I figured all the kids were doing drugs. That made me angry and I tackled Patrick about it, but he said for me to mind my own business. What happened at that party, Camila? Were all of you doing drugs?”

She swallowed the constriction in her throat.

Seeing her difficulty, he added, “That night I saw you coming out of Patrick’s room. You looked bad so I went in to talk to Patrick. I asked him about the drugs again and he became belligerent. I’d never seen him like that before. I told him to sleep it off. The next morning, I told my parents what I suspected and that Patrick needed help. They became angrier than Patrick, saying Patrick was a good boy and wouldn’t do anything like that. Later Patrick came out to the barn angry that I had interfered and he took off in the new Corvette. That’s the last time I saw him.” He took a breath. “You’re the only one who knows the truth. Was Patrick doing drugs?”

She licked dry lips. “Patrick didn’t do drugs. He hadn’t ever before.” She saw his shattered expression and quickly added, “But there were drugs there that night so you had reason to be concerned.”

“I see.”

She looked past his shoulder to the blue frilly curtains she’d made. They were light, airy and fun—things she needed in her life. Back then it had been so different, so… Her defense mechanism kicked in and she suppressed her emotions just like Benita said she did. But then something unfurled in her. She couldn’t suppress her emotions forever. She needed to let go, to share—with Tripp.

The pain tightly woven around her heart began to unravel. Tripp had a need for answers. She could give him those and in return find some for herself. But could she do it?

She took a long breath. “In school, I was very shy and didn’t make friends easily.” She spoke slowly and hesitantly, forcing the words out. “Someone told me I was standoffish and I suppose that’s true. My mother had cut this path of disgrace before me and I had a hard time living it down. Looking back, I can see if I had just made an effort, things would have been different. I just assumed people didn’t want to be friends with me. Patrick made the effort to get to know me and we became friends all through school. He was good in math and science and I was good in English. We helped each other.”

She kept her eyes on the curtains. “In high school our relationship changed. Patrick wanted to hold my hand and he’d kiss my cheek unexpectedly. I was too young and naïve to recognize the signs. Patrick was in love with me.”

“He’d been crazy about you forever,” Tripp said.

Camila looked down at her hands and studied her white knuckles. “But I didn’t feel that way about him. He was my friend—my very good friend.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Yes, but he said it didn’t matter. We could still be friends.”

“That’s why you came to the party?”

“I didn’t get an invitation, but Patrick insisted. That year he started tutoring some of the football players so they could pass. He changed then, wanting to be a part of the in crowd—the football jocks. He invited them all to the party, Vance, Wallis, and several others. They knew, as Patrick put it, that he was mooning over me. Wallis told him he could give him something to make him a he-man, take-charge-of-your-woman type man. Patrick took the drug and slipped something into my drink. I didn’t know this until Patrick told me later.”

Tripp felt anger mounting inside him. He’d wanted answers to alleviate his pain and now he’d opened Pandora’s box and he couldn’t close it. He had to hear the rest and he didn’t know if he had enough strength to face what he was beginning to feel in his gut.

“Patrick became very affectionate and I just wanted him to stop touching me, but I couldn’t get the words out. Then I was so dizzy and you were holding me and I… Patrick was angry with you for dancing with me. I tried to tell him we weren’t dancing, but my mind was fuzzy and I…and I…”

“What happened next?” he prompted, now knowing Camila hadn’t been coming on to him. She’d just been drugged and probably had been looking for an understanding person.

“I don’t remember much, but Patrick took me to his room. He kept saying he loved me and we were going to get married. I just wanted to lie down. I was having a hard time standing up and then…”

Her words trailed away into a vast vacuum of speculation and dread. He got up to ease the suspicion in him, but there was only one way to do that—to say the words out loud. He didn’t know if he could do that, though. Looking at her pale face, the words slipped out of their own volition.

“Did he force you to have sex?”

She shook her head. “Patrick would never do that.”

“Did you want to have sex with him?”

“No, but I gave in because…”

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” The words erupted from deep within him.

“It wasn’t his fault,” Camila cried. “The drugs made him another person and he was so sorry afterwards. He came to my house the next day and begged for me to forgive him. He wanted us to run away and get married. I told him no and he began to cry saying I was his best friend. That made me angry and I told him his football buddies were his friends. But they really weren’t—they played a cruel joke on him and me, and they laughed about it. Patrick said he saw Vance earlier and he was eager to know what had happened. Patrick was just sick and couldn’t believe what he’d done. But I couldn’t forgive him then. I asked him to leave.”

She took a breath, pushing out the rest of the story. “He said I was never attracted to him—that I was attracted to his older brother and he knew it. I…I…told him that was true. He crashed his car a few hours later.” She drew in more air. “So you see you’re not to blame for Patrick’s death—I am.”

Tripp jammed hands through his hair feeling as if the floor had just given way and he was falling, falling…. He yanked open the door and stepped outside, sucking cold air into his lungs, letting it cool the heated emotions in him. His legs felt weak and he sank down onto the step.

How could something like this happen? In a small town like Bramble? There were good people here, good kids. How did one party get so out of control? All he could feel was anger at what had been done to Patrick. To Camila. All for a joke—a good laugh. For years he’d known something hadn’t been right, but he’d never imagined this depth of cruelty.

He said I was never attracted to him—that I was attracted to his older brother and he knew it. I…I…told him that was true.

Oh, God. He could have stopped everything that night if he’d just taken control of the situation, taken Camila home. But he hadn’t. The thought was like acid in his gut. How did he make this right?

♦ ♦ ♦

N
AUSEA ROSE
in Camila’s stomach and she ran to the bathroom, drawing deep breaths. After a minute, the churning stopped and she wiped her face with a wet washcloth. She’d never told anyone that story and the aftermath was almost more than she could bear. The look, the shock, in Tripp’s eyes was what she’d expected—that’s why she’d avoided talking to him. He hated her. She’d killed his brother. She’d killed Jilly’s father by not being more understanding. But she’d been incredibly hurt.

She wasn’t going to think about this anymore tonight. It was driving her crazy. She went to the kitchen to turn out the light. The door opened and Tripp came back in.

“Neither of us are to blame for Patrick’s death,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Patrick made some bad decisions by getting in with the wrong crowd. He’s to blame for that, not you. You’re the victim in all this.”

She blinked back a tear, hardly believing her ears. This was more than she’d expected. “Thank you, but if I had been more understanding, more…”

“He forced you, for God’s sake.”

Her hand touched her throbbing temple. “Please.”

“Camila, these boys wanted to get back at you for rejecting them and it got way out of control. Patrick got caught up in that. I’m so sorry for all you’ve been through.”

Words stuck in her throat.

“I think you’ve done a remarkable job putting your life back together.”

“I had Jilly. Something good came out of it.”

“She’s the best of you and Patrick.”

She looped her hair behind her ear. “I’ve always thought that.”

Their eyes clung and neither could say what they wanted to. It would take time. He reached for his hat. “I’d better go. It’s getting late and a lot colder.”

“I haven’t listened to the weather. How cold is it suppose to get?”

“It’ll probably be freezing by morning.”

“Oh no.” She grabbed a big coat out of a closet. “Could you stay with Jilly for a few minutes? I don’t like leaving her alone this late.”