by Linda Warren
His eyes bulged out of his head. “Don’t come in here threatening me.”
“I’m just telling you, Bert. That’s the way it’s going to be.” She pushed the cart outside with everyone staring at her. That was okay. She’d made her point.
♦ ♦ ♦
TRIPP WORKED TIRELESSLY on the ranch, trying not to think about Camila, but she was in his every waking moment and most of his dreams. She should hate him because he could have stopped what had happened that night. But she didn’t seem to blame him for anything. He did, though.
He had people coming to clean the fountain and pool. Jilly might enjoy the pool this summer.
But he might not be here.
That thought edged its way through all the worries about his parents, about Camila. He couldn’t stay away from his ranch much longer. He couldn’t leave here, either. His parents needed him. What could he do? Work until he couldn’t think.
The accident kept running through his mind and he still felt something wasn’t right. There was more to it. It could have been that Patrick was distracted by revenge so he wasn’t watching the road. As many times as Tripp told himself that, he didn’t believe it. He’d talk to Wyatt as soon as he could. He hadn’t been the sheriff then, but he might be able to answer some questions, to alleviate Tripp’s mind.
That night in bed, as tired as he was, he could still see Camila’s dark eyes. He wanted some sort of victory for her so she wouldn’t blame herself for anything that’d happened.
Would he ever stop blaming himself?
♦ ♦ ♦
TIME PASSED QUICKLY for Camila. Unie had her cart again and was pushing it all over town, picking up cans. Camila was expecting a visit from Bert, but so far he’d stayed away.
At the next city council meeting, she found out why. Bert had put Eunice Gimble on the agenda for discussion. He considered Unie a nuisance to the town and said she should be committed to a mental institution where she could get medical treatment. Since Unie had no relatives, he proposed the city hire an attorney to have the necessary paperwork drawn up.
While she agreed the town should do something, Camila disagreed on a mental institution and luckily the other members agreed with her.
She heaved a sigh of relief. For now, the city would not have Unie committed. Camila had more time to do something because she knew Bert was not going to let this drop.
♦ ♦ ♦
CAMILA KEPT BUSY making soap and quilting, but Tripp was never far from her mind. Benita came by and helped with the packages to mail, but she was very quiet, very subdued, which wasn’t like her at all. Camila didn’t know if she liked her mother this way. Benita wasn’t herself.
Her hands stilled over the fabric in her lap as she pondered that thought. She wanted Benita to be someone she wasn’t. Looking back, Camila saw that she was like Madre—structured and molded in her behavior. Maybe if she’d been able to shrug off some of the rude remarks and laugh and joke, then maybe she wouldn’t have felt things so deeply. That reality was hard to digest.
She couldn’t go back and change the way she’d felt, but now she had an opportunity to get to know her mother. Talk as equals, be friends, and most of all, learn how to be mother and daughter.
That would make her happy.
♦ ♦ ♦
THURSDAY, TRIPP TOOK his mother to the doctor in Temple and surgery was scheduled for Monday. Leona was still nervous, but Tripp knew she now had a purpose—seeing her granddaughter.
After he took his mother home, he drove over to the county seat to speak with Wyatt, who showed him the old file on Patrick’s accident.
There wasn’t much in the file. Notes said beer had been found in the car, and there were photos of the crashed Corvette and tire marks along Harper’s Road, as if someone had been burning rubber. Then there was another note—Corvette hit the tree head-on and the front end of the car was pushed almost completely into the front seat. Patrick’s body was on the passenger’s side.
The passenger side.
That didn’t make sense, so he showed Wyatt.
Wyatt shook his head. “Why are you dredging this up now?”
“I have a lot of unresolved issues about my brother’s death.”
“Let it go, Tripp,” Wyatt said in a sympathetic voice. “It was an accident.”
On the way back to Lady Luck, Tripp’s mind was in a whirl. Patrick’s body had been on the passenger’s side. He couldn’t get that out of his head. Yet there wasn’t any evidence to support another person being at the scene of the accident. But his instincts told him there had been. Someone else had been driving Patrick’s Corvette.
But who?
♦ ♦ ♦
ON FRIDAY, CAMILA 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.
Chapter Twelve
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 h
air 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.
♦ ♦ ♦
BENITA 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 i
n 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.
