Chapter Thirteen
Three days.
It had been three days since Charlotte left. Tripp stood by the pear trees, hating the hollow feeling in his gut that wouldn’t go away.
“Hey,” Bo said, coming to stand by him. “Slow day? Or are you pouting again?”
“I’m not pouting.”
“Like hell you aren’t.”
Tripp yanked off his Stetson and raked his hand through his hair. “What do you want, Bo?”
“I want you to wake the hell up and stop being so damn predictable.”
Tripp turned to face him, anger rising in his blood. “I’m getting tired of you telling me what you think you know.”
“I know you, and you did exactly what I said. You fell too hard for a woman you couldn’t have, but the shit of it is, you had her. She didn’t break your heart—you let her walk away.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. She gave Gracie pralines, and she was telling me about her cushy new job in L.A.”
“And you didn’t chase. God forbid you actually tell her you wanted her. And don’t give me that shit about the pralines. Did you tell her Gracie had allergies? No. Despite that lapse in judgment on your part, Gracie was fine. She is fine.”
Tripp clenched his jaw. He’d been thinking the same thing over the past few days. It didn’t change the fact that she’d gotten that job.
“She’s gone,” Tripp said.
“Yeah, I know. And I think you owe it to Gracie at least to have some kind of understanding about Charlotte. Maybe go check on Mrs. Gram herself and see if she’s okay instead of wallowing in the self-pity you brought on yourself.”
“Tell me how you really feel, Bo.”
“Hey, when the last guy on earth who should be handing out relationship advice is sounding smarter than you, I’d say you have a big fuckin’ problem, my friend.”
That was the truth, and Tripp knew it. He couldn’t kick that god-awful pain in his chest. He needed to fix this.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” he said to Bo, and got in his truck.
Within minutes, he was knocking down Mrs. Gram’s door. The sweet woman limped her way over to open it.
“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” she said.
Tripp removed his hat and followed her to sit at the kitchen table. The chair, upholstered in cream fabric with an image of wild horses running across the seat, squeaked when he sat.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Don’t you really want to ask how Charlie is?” Mrs. Gram said. The woman was sweet but smart, and had a mean streak in her when it came to her family. Tripp could appreciate that.
“Is Charlotte doing well?” he tried.
“You mean since she ran out of my house crying her eyes out a few days ago? I really couldn’t say.”
The thought of Charlotte crying was a sucker punch to his gut.
“It was a big misunderstanding,” Tripp said.
“Oh, I know. Gracie is fine. I went through that little praline scare with you before.”
Yes, he remembered. But it didn’t change the fact that Charlotte had come to tell him she was leaving anyway.
“She got that job. Was heading out no matter what,” he said.
Gram scoffed. “Oh, so you’re a cattle rancher and mind reader now?”
“She told me about the job.”
“And did she say she was going to take it?”
“Yes—” Tripp stopped himself. She’d said she needed to talk to him, but she never said she was going to take the job. “She said it was a good opportunity.”
Gram nodded. “I’m sure it is. Doesn’t mean a thing.”
“Was she really considering staying?” Tripp asked, hope blooming in his chest.
“Why would you care?”
“I care about her. A lot.”
Princess Peanut Butter bounded into the room, immediately zeroing in on Tripp. He braced himself, expecting the dog to try to tackle him out of the chair like usual, but she just marched over to Gram and sat on her feet.
Even the dog knew he’d screwed up.
Gram scratched the dog’s head. “If you care about Charlotte, why did you say what you said to her?”
Tripp searched his brain, trying to recall that day and what he’d said. Then it hit him. He’d told Charlotte she wasn’t Gracie’s mother—which was true—but he’d also said she never could be. That Charlotte could never be anything more to either of them.
“I was upset about Gracie. I didn’t mean it.”
“You know, she didn’t give two hoots about what you said to her, or that fancy job, or her heart breaking. She was scared to death about that girl of yours. Gracie was her only thought.”
Bile rose in his throat as he imagined Charlotte scared out of her mind. He’d left her frantic and likely scared to death.
“I’m an asshole,” he said. “Pardon me, ma’am.”
“No, no, I was just about to say the same thing.”
Tripp chuckled. “Well, I deserve it.”
Gram patted his hand and scooted closer. “I know you love your daughter and worry about her, but Charlotte loves you both, too. And she was trying so hard. She deserves a man who wants her. Not one who just fades away.”
Tripp’s eyes went wide. “She loves us?”
Gram nodded.
Tripp knew how amazing Charlotte was, and he knew how much she tried. She’d gone out of her way to show up for Gracie, even when it put her way out of her comfort zone.
“Both her daddy and mama faded away. Never made her feel wanted.” She wagged a finger in his face. “I won’t have you doing the same thing to her, young man. You either want her and you fight, or you don’t and you leave her be for good.”
Tripp looked Gram straight in the eye. “Ma’am, I’m in love with your granddaughter, and I’m going to bring her home where she belongs.”
Gram smiled. “About damn time.”
With a loud bark, Princess Peanut Butter bounded to her feet and tackled him right out of the chair.
And for once, he didn’t care.