The Cowboy's Return. Linda Warren

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СКАЧАТЬ when she needs something and take Miss Unie food or she’ll just eat cat food.”

      Camila tucked wisps of stray hair behind Jilly’s ear. “Do you know how special you are?”

      Jilly grinned. “Then I can still help out?”

      “Yes, but no TV or listening to music for a week.”

      “Ah, piece of cake.” She kissed her mother. “I love you and I’m sorry I lied.”

      “Just don’t do it again.”

      “I won’t. I’d better check on Button.” She disappeared down the hall.

      Camila buried her face in her hands. Oh, Jilly. What have you done? She’d thought she’d put the past behind her, closed that door forever. But now it was wide open and Camila didn’t know if she had the strength to go through it, to face a past that was painful, to face her daughter if she found out the truth. But she would make sure that never happened.

      She’d guard the truth with her life.

      Chapter Two

      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.

      CAMILA 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 СКАЧАТЬ