I got a new strategy.” Daniela giggled. “I let her watch TV until she nods off. Otherwise she never stops talking. That kid has an imagination that won’t quit.”
Charley handed Daniela her backpack. “Thanks.” He passed her a ten—half his tips for the night.
“No problem. I’d rather be here than home helping Mama cook for the weekend.” She clomped down the stairs as he closed the door. “Good night, Mr. Collins. See you next weekend.”
Charley tugged off his boots and tiptoed into the little bedroom. A tiny nightlight lit the room just enough for him to see the bump in the bed. Carefully, he sat down beside Lillie and pulled her small body close, loving the smell of her. Loving the soft feel of her hair.
“Good night, pumpkin,” he whispered. “I love you to the end of forever.”
Lillie stretched as her arm circled his neck and whispered, half-asleep, “I love you too, Daddy.”
He rocked her small body until he knew she was asleep again, then moved into the living room. Taking the blanket and pillow from behind the couch, he tried to make his long legs fit into the small space.
In the silence, he smiled. Of all the mistakes he’d made in his life, Lillie was his only blessing. Five years ago his father had been furious when he’d learned Charley’s girlfriend was pregnant. Eventually, Davis Collins had accepted them getting married, but he’d never invited Sharon or Lillie to the ranch. Davis Collins had never even seen his only grandchild.
A year after Lillie was born, Sharon left Charley, saying motherhood wasn’t her thing. Charley had another fight with his dad when Davis found out Charley planned to keep the baby. He’d agreed to pay tuition and nothing more. Davis had simply said, “She’s your mistake, not mine.”
So Charley worked thirty hours a week and carried a full load. Sharon’s parents, the other grandparents, agreed to keep Lillie on Charley’s rare visits to his father’s ranch.
Charley had survived almost two years taking care of Lillie alone. He’d almost made it to the end of college, when he’d have had his degree and could have forgotten about any family but Lillie. He’d thought his father would turn over the ranch to him and move permanently to Dallas. Maybe Davis would even accept Lillie, eventually.
Then Charley messed up again. But he’d had no thought of sleeping with his father’s brainless fourth wife until she walked into his room and his brain shut off.
Charley climbed out of his makeshift bed on the couch and walked to the fridge to get a bottle of water. The floor in the apartment creaked so loud he was afraid it might wake up the little princess.
Neither the water nor two aspirin could take his mind off his mistakes. He remembered that at first he’d hoped his father would cool down. After all, Davis himself bragged about sleeping with other men’s wives. Even after his dad kicked him off the ranch, Charley thought he’d go back to school and finish his last semester. But no money came in for tuition. He scraped all he could together, but Lillie got sick. Between doctor bills and missing work, he couldn’t make ends meet. He took incompletes, planning to return to college as soon as he got on his feet. But there was Lillie to take care of, and a kid can’t live in the back of a car and grow on fast food. And then his car was towed.
He finally gave up trying to survive and stay in school. He borrowed enough to buy an old pickup and made it back to Crossroads. Now Lillie was five and he was no closer to finishing the last semester. No closer to getting his life in order.
He stared at the ceiling as though it would give him an answer to the problems he faced, but no answer came.
He’d sworn off women for good. He’d probably never live down what he’d done with his stepmother even though his father was now married to wife number five. Folks in this town had long memories. So he got up every morning and did the jobs he hated because of Lillie.
He climbed off the couch again to check on her, something he did every night no matter how tired he was.
After pulling the cover over her shoulder, he went back to his bed.
That first year, he remembered, she’d cried for her mother. Charley made up his mind that she’d never cry for him because he planned to be near and no matter what mistakes in life she made, she’d never stop being his daughter.
In the stillness over the bar, Charley counted the jobs he had lined up for the next week. Day work on two ranches for one day each, hauling for the hardware store on Wednesday, stocking at the grocery any morning he could.
His ex-wife’s parents, Ted and Helen Lee, helped with Lillie when they could. They’d take her to kindergarten on the mornings he had to leave before dawn, and pick her up on the days he didn’t get off work early enough. But every night, Charley wanted to be the one to tuck her in.
Sharon’s folks were kind people. They hadn’t heard from her in over a year and that had been only a postcard saying she was moving to LA.
The old couple didn’t have much, but they were good to Lillie and him. Some days Charley thought the kid was their only sunshine.
He smiled as he drifted to sleep. He had a very special standing date come morning. Sundays he’d make pancakes with Lillie and then they’d saddle up her pony and his quarter horse and ride down into Ransom Canyon while the air was still cold and the day was newborn. They’d ride and talk and laugh. He’d tell her stories his grandfather told him about the early days when longhorn cattle and wild mustangs ran across the land.
When they stopped to rest, she’d beg him for more stories. Her favorite was all about the great buffalo herds and how, when they stampeded, they’d shake the ground.
She’d giggle when she put her hand on the earth and swear she could feel the herd headed toward them.
Charley would laugh with her and for a moment he’d feel rich.
Jubilee
February 22
DAWN WAS BARELY up over the Lone Heart Ranch when Jubilee Hamilton heard the first knock on the downstairs back door.
“Go away!” she yelled and pulled the covers over her head.
How inconsiderate, she thought, pressing her eyes closed as if she could force herself to go back to sleep. Didn’t anyone in this flat, worthless country understand that she was in the middle of a nervous breakdown and she didn’t want to be bothered?
“Open the door, lady!” A man, obviously standing just below her window, yelled.
“No,” she answered.
“All right. I’ll leave the groceries on the porch. They’ll be rotting by noon.”
“Groceries?” She sat up. “Food?” She’d left her parents’ house three days ago eating nothing but carrot sticks and protein bars before she finally stopped at the little town called Crossroads to buy food. The grouchy grocer had hurried her, saying it was almost closing time.
She’d been too exhausted
