The Cowboy's Return. Linda Warren

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      Before sleep claimed her, she drifted back through the years. She was seventeen and Tripp was holding her. She was floating on a cloud with her body pressed against the hardened muscles of his. Excitement mounted inside her, excitement like she’d never felt before. And she hated herself for that reaction. Never again would she degrade herself like that.

      Never.

      TRIPP LEFT MORRIS to finish cleaning the kitchen and followed his parents into the den. He turned off the TV.

      “What’d you do that for?” Griffin frowned at him.

      “Because it doesn’t need to be on twenty-four hours a day,” Leona snapped.

      “I can watch sports if I want to.” Griffin reached for the control.

      “Dad, have a seat,” Tripp said, holding the remote out of his reach. “I need to talk to both of you.”

      “What?” Grif eased into his chair. “You’re going to leave so go ahead and tell us and get it over with.”

      “Oh, no.” His mother began to cry.

      “Wait a minute. I’m not going anywhere just yet.” He handed Leona some tissues and guided her to a chair. He then sat facing them. “We need to talk about Patrick.”

      “No, no, no,” Leona cried into the tissue.

      “Son, why do you want to do this? Can’t you see how much it hurts your mother?”

      “Yes, and it hurts me, too. But I’ve met someone I think you need to meet.”

      “A woman?” Grif lifted an eyebrow.

      Leona wiped her eyes and stared at him. “Who?”

      “A young girl.” He paused “Jilly Walker.”

      His father looked puzzled. “Who’s that?”

      “Camila Walker’s daughter. Patrick’s friend from high school.”

      Leona shook her head. “Oh, no, no.”

      “Yes, Mom. I feel Jilly is Patrick’s daughter.”

      “Like hell,” Grif scoffed. “Camila slept around—everyone knows that. How can you say such a thing?”

      “Because I’ve met the girl. She has a lot of Patrick’s characteristics.”

      Grif pushed to his feet. “Do not bring that girl into this house, Tripp. I forbid it.” He picked up his cane and shuffled to his room. Leona got up and followed him.

      Tripp buried his face in his hands. His parents were never going to accept Jilly.

      That bothered him more than he ever thought possible.

      THE NEXT DAY Jilly went back and forth from the gift shop to the coffee shop—not able to sit still or concentrate on anything. It was obvious Jilly was nervous. Camila was, too, but she hid it better than her daughter.

      Camila folded a baby quilt and put it in a box for a lady. She rang it up and told Amber, one of her helpers, that she’d be back in a minute. In the coffee shop, she caught Jilly by the arm and pulled her to a table.

      “You don’t have to do this today. You can think about it for a while.”

      Jilly wagged her head. “No, Mama. I want to do it.”

      Camila wished she knew what to do, wished she could stop Jilly’s thoughts about Patrick, wished she could’ve stopped Tripp from returning to Bramble. But she couldn’t. Just like she had no control over the past. She chewed on the inside of her lip.

      Just tell her you’ve changed your mind and she can’t go. Just say no.

      She couldn’t do that, either.

      “Well, go now.”

      Jilly perked up. “Okay.” She launched to her feet.

      Camila hugged her. “If they say anything mean to you, come home immediately.”

      “I will, Mama, and don’t worry. I’ll take Button with me.”

      “Get my phone out of my purse. I want to be able to call you.”

      “Okay. Bye.” In a flash, Jilly was gone.

      Camila opened her mouth to call her back, then closed it. Millie patted her on the shoulder.

      “Please tell me I’m doing the right thing.”

      Millie shrugged. “I can’t. I don’t even know what the right thing is in this situation. We’ll just have to wait and hope Leona and Grif still have a heart. I mean, who could look at that gorgeous face and not fall in love?”

      Camila tried to smile, but failed miserably.

      “Go to work,” Millie suggested. “Staying busy is the best medicine right now.”

      Camila took her advice, but she kept wondering if Jilly was there yet. How were they treating her? What was happening? What were they saying to her baby?

      TRIPP HAD SPENT the afternoon riding over the ranch. It upset him that the place was in such bad shape. Pastures were overgrown, mesquite was growing wild again, fences were down and cattle roamed freely from Daniels land onto Boggs property. He’d called Earl several times, but the man never returned any of his calls.

      After taking a shower, he changed clothes. He couldn’t find any record of the payments Earl had made in the past year. They were going to talk about that, too. He checked on his parents. Grif was glued to the TV and Leona was listening to a book on tape that the nurse had brought her, so he didn’t bother them. He’d tell Morris he was leaving, then…

      There was a knock at the door.

      It would be a waste of time yelling for Morris so he answered it himself. He stopped short when he saw who was standing there. Jilly. She held her dog in her arms, like before.

      “Hi, Mr. Daniels. I came to visit like you said.”

      Oh my God! What should he do now? He couldn’t hurt this young girl and he certainly wouldn’t let his parents do that either.

      “Tripp,” Leona called. “Who’s at the door?”

      What the hell should he do?

      “Tripp,” Leona called again. Tripp made a decision, hoping Jilly had the same effect on his parents as she’d had on him.

      “Come in,” he said, stepping aside.

      Jilly walked in and he closed the door.

      “My parents are in the den. Please understand that they are old and say things that sometimes hurt.”

      Jilly nodded. “It’s okay, Mr. Daniels. I know all about old people.”

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