The Cowboy's Return

“I suppose he is.”

“Mama?”

Camila knew what was coming next. It was like standing on a railroad track and hearing the whistle of a train and not being able to move or do anything, just wait for the inevitable. Wait for the pain.

The brush stilled in her hand. “What, baby?”

“You said I could talk to you about anything.”

“Yes.” The whistle shrilled louder.

They were sitting on the floor in front of the fire. Jilly had her back to her and she turned to face Camila.

“I want to go see my grandparents.”

The train hit Camila then and she struggled to breathe, to survive—for Jilly. She reached for her daughter and held her, praying that she could do this.

“Baby.” She stroked Jilly’s hair. “The Danielses believe that Patrick isn’t your father and I don’t want them to hurt your feelings.”

Jilly raised her head. “It’s okay, Mama. I just want to see if they’re okay. If they’re mean to me, I’ll just come home. And Mr. Daniels said I could visit any time I wanted.”

Camila couldn’t speak.

“You said I could see them if I wanted to.”

Now she had to eat those words. But she was wondering why Tripp had made such an offer if he didn’t believe Patrick was Jilly’s father. Why couldn’t he stay out of their lives?

She swallowed. “Yes. I did.” She couldn’t stop this—just like she couldn’t stop the train wreck of emotions. But it didn’t make it easy.

“And Mr. Daniels will be there and he’s nice.”

Nice and dangerous.

Camila took a hard breath. “Okay.”

Jilly gave her a kiss. “Thank you, Mama.”

She pushed Jilly’s hair back. “Do you want me to take you?”

“No. I can ride my bike.”

“I don’t like you riding alone.”

“Mama.” Jilly sighed in an aggravated way. “This is Bramble and everyone knows me. I’m not a baby.”

“Still, take my cell phone so I can come and get you if anything happens.” She had to have a way to stay in touch, with her daughter.

“Okay.”

“When do you want to do this?” Please, Jilly. Change your mind.

“Tomorrow after I get through helping you in the store.”

It was obvious Jilly had this all planned—probably for a long time. Now Camila had to let it happen. How did she do that? How did she make this easy for both of them? Camila soon realized there wasn’t a set way, but she’d handle it as best as she could.

“I’d rather you went right after lunch. I don’t want you on the road after dark and it gets dark early.”

“Okay.” Jilly hugged her. “I’ll be fine.”

Camila ran her finger down Jilly’s nose. “You’re growing up too fast.”

Jilly smiled her beautiful smile and Camila wished she could freeze this moment in time—keep Jilly innocent and safe. Keep Jilly with her. But that was unrealistic.

“Oh. I almost forgot,” Jilly said. “Mrs. Shynosky’s daughter sent her some banana-nut bread and she gave me some. She said she couldn’t eat the whole thing and she’d rather have the pie that I’d brought her. So I took it to Miss Unie.”

“That was sweet of you.”

“But I think she gave it to Lu Lu. Miss Unie doesn’t eat much.”

“I took her a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread earlier so she has some food.”

“Why is she so stubborn about accepting things?”

Camila rubbed Jilly’s arm. “Unie wants to be independent and she doesn’t like charity.”

“So you told her they were throwing the milk and bread out at the grocery store and she took it.”

“Yes.” Her daughter knew her well. Camila had pulled that trick on Unie before just to make sure she had something to eat.

“You’re smart, Mama.”

“Thank you.”

Jilly settled comfortably in her arms. “Mama?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m worried about Benita.”

Camila tensed.

“She hasn’t called in a long time.”

“Benita lives her own life, but she did call the other day. I was out, though. She’ll come home when she’s ready.”

“Well, the next time I see Benita, I’m gonna tell her that’s mean.”

Camila wrapped her arms around her daughter, wanting to protect and shield her, but Jilly was fiercely independent. She’d always been that way.