got it, hon.”
Jilly fished in the pockets of her jeans and pulled out some change. “Oh, wait a minute. I have to get more money.”
“That’s okay,” Tripp offered. “I’ll pay for it.”
“No.” Jilly shook her head. “I can’t take your money. I’ll get some from Mama.” She darted out the door before he could stop her.
She talked to Camila and soon Jilly came running back. She laid the correct change on the counter and picked up the Styrofoam box. “Thanks, Rose.” Then she was gone.
“Does she do that often?” Tripp asked.
“All the time,” Rose replied. “We call her the angel of Bramble. I tried giving her the pie, but Camila makes her pay.”
He remembered last night and Jilly’s offer to help his parents. He thought that was unusual, but then, Jilly seemed to be an unusual girl. Then again, maybe not—Patrick had been the same way.
Tripp’s grandmother had lived with them until her death. Their paper had been delivered to the mailbox at the road and Patrick would ride his bike every morning to get the paper so she could read it with her coffee. When Leona had discovered a rat in the house, she’d had Morris set a trap. Patrick had had a fit, unable to stand the thought of killing the rat. He’d promised to hunt it down and catch it, which he had. He kept it in a cage until the rat had died from old age. So many similar episodes ran through Tripp’s mind. Patrick had been soft-hearted and kind and…
The bell over the door jingled again and Vance and Wallis Boggs came in. They had been in Patrick’s year at school, but Tripp wasn’t sure what kind of friends they’d been.
Melvin and Bert walked over and they all shook hands. “Damn. It’s good to have you back in Bramble,” Melvin said.
“Yeah, have a cup of coffee with us,” Vance invited.
“Sure,” Tripp replied.
“Got to get back to work,” Melvin said. “Maybe another time.”
“Me, too,” Bert said, and the brothers left.
“Coffee, Rose,” Vance yelled as they sat at a table.
“Keep your britches on, junior. I’ll be there in a minute.”
They talked about casual stuff and Wallis watched Camila out the window. Jilly climbed into the passenger side and they drove off.
“Can I ask y’all a question?” Tripp asked. He wanted answers, but doing this made his gut ache.
“Sure,” they answered simultaneously.
“Do y’all believe that Patrick is Jilly Walker’s father?”
“Hell, man,” Vance snickered. “That’s a million-dollar question. She could be anybody’s.”
“I was gone a lot back then so I don’t know that much about Camila Walker.”
“Every man in Bramble has had her,” Wallis said. “Don’t lose any sleep over it.”
Rose placed the cups of coffee on the table. Tripp gripped his warm cup. “So y’all have slept with her?”
“All the time in high school.” Wallis laughed. “Camila was always an easy lay.”
Tripp stared at Wallis. “Patrick said just the opposite.”
“What do you mean?” His voice became defensive.
“He said she was a nice girl.” He’d heard Patrick tell his parents that many times, to no avail.
Wallis waved a hand. “Patrick believed that about everybody.”
“Yeah.” Tripp shoved back his chair. “Even you boys.”
Vance glared at him. “What does that mean?”
“Anything you want it to.” Tripp walked to the counter, paid for his coffee and the dinners Rose had ready for him. He thanked Rose, picked up the bag and left.
Once you get to know Camila, you’ll soon realize the truth. That’s what Rose had said. He doubted he’d find the truth listening to the rumors in this small town.
He drove through the residential area, taking a shortcut to Lady Luck. He stopped as he saw Jilly lugging a trash can to the road at Mrs. Shynosky’s. Her bike was parked near the house.
As he watched her, something else became clear in his head. He didn’t need a DNA test to prove that Jilly was Patrick’s. All he had to do was look at this little girl and see her loving heart that was open to everyone—just like his brother.
Tripp stopped and got out to help her.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, blinking nervously.
“I know, but I wanted to.”
She stared openly at him.
“What?” he asked.
“Did Patrick look like you?”
“Some. We have the same blond hair and blue eyes.”
“That’s what my mama said.” She shuffled her feet. “I’m sorry I bothered you the other day.”
“You didn’t bother me,” he assured her. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“Really?” Her dark eyes opened wide.
“Yes. Really.” He smiled. “And you’re welcome at Lady Luck any time.”
She smiled back. “Thanks. I gotta go. Mrs. Shynosky likes me to tell her what’s going on in Bramble. I’ll tell her the cowboy has returned. Bye.”
“Bye, Jilly.” He walked to his truck with a swing in his step.
Yes, Jilly was Patrick’s.
Now he had to convince his parents of that.
Chapter Four
Camila locked up for the day and dropped her keys in her purse. Bert Boggs came out of the bank two doors down. “Had a good week, Camila?” he asked, a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
“Yes. Thank you,” she replied as politely as she could. She disliked Bert intensely and his son, Vance, even more.
“Just make sure that all you’re selling in there are homemade soaps and quilts.”
Anger jolted through her. “Excuse me?”
“I know all about you, Camila. I’m not easily fooled like the other people in this town. I’m keeping an eye on you.”
She swung her purse
