Cowgirls Don't Cry (Rough Riders 10)

Jessie jerked back. “Why is her aunt being so difficult?”

His hand shook as he brushed baby-fine strands of hair from her tear-stained face. “She’s actually her great aunt, who’s nearly eighty and is almost legally blind. It was easier takin’ care of baby contained in a crib. But now that Landon is walking, she literally cannot keep an eye on him.” That wasn’t all, but Brandt wasn’t about to put the cart before the horse.

So he shouldn’t have been surprised Jessie connected the dots.

“The aunt is afraid this isn’t a temporary arrangement. She’s worried she’ll get stuck with the kid permanently.”

Brandt didn’t bother to lie. “I’m assuming so. Like I said, Samantha has made some mistakes, but I’m not writing her off completely.”

“You should. God. Why couldn’t she have given him up for adoption?”

He couldn’t say he felt the same, because he didn’t. Even as much as it hurt Jessie, Brandt was glad Samantha had contacted him. He dropped his hands and stepped back. “Look. I know this is a lot to process. But it doesn’t change the fact I need your help.”

“And if I refuse? What then?”

“Then I’ll…” He blew out an exasperated breath. “Have no choice except to ask my parents to pitch in.”

There was Jessie’s horror-filled look. “But Casper—”

“Is the worst possible choice, yeah, trust me, I know. My mother would be fine takin’ care of Landon, but she won’t stand up to my father, which means I’d have to leave Landon at their house. Every goddamn day. And I don’t trust my dad not to go around me.”

“Go around you how?”

“Given Samantha’s circumstances, he’ll try for full custody of Landon, and the court would award them guardianship, even temporarily, over me. I don’t want it to come to that. Ever.”

“When did you plan on telling them about him?”

“Tomorrow. I’d hoped to have a firm plan in place first, but if I don’t, I’ll wing it. Tell and Dalton will back me up, no matter what happens.”

In the unbearably long, brutal silence, Brandt felt his hope drying up. Felt her pulling away.

Shivering, Jessie wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s late. And I’m…”

In shock. Heartbroken. Angry.

Every emotion was written on her face. “Do you want me to go?”

She said, “Yes,” then amended, “unless you’re too tired to drive home. You can crash on the couch.

But you won’t get much sleep. It’s the last thing on my mind right about now.”

When Jessie was upset, she cleaned house like a maniac. He’d rather sleep in his damn truck than surround himself with her strange compulsion and the smell of bleach. He snagged his suit coat off the back of the chair. “I’ll go. Think about it, okay?”

She looked him dead in the eye and said, “I doubt I’ll think of anything else.”

Jessie didn’t sleep. She paced to the point it annoyed her dog. She drank two shots of whiskey and the booze stopped the shaking in her hands, but didn’t blot out the surrealness of the situation.

Luke had a child.

With someone else.

That alone would’ve been bad enough, if not for the fact she’d lost a baby. Every problem they’d ever had stemmed from that unintended pregnancy, which had forced them to get married. She’d miscarried at four months, after getting thrown off her horse. Luke hadn’t been devastated at the loss of the child as much as she had.

No, his devastation came from being trapped in a shotgun marriage.

The doctor’s suggestion that she remain at home to heal gave Luke an excuse to go out. While he’d been carousing in honkytonks in four counties, she’d been the dutiful wife.

He’d been so sweet and loving to her at times she wondered if she’d exaggerated his surliness when he wasn’t around. She’d wanted to try for another baby right away, but the doctor suggested she wait a year and put her on birth control pills. Which had re-ignited their sex life for a while. But she hadn’t been enough for him. He’d gone elsewhere to satisfy his sexual needs.

She’d stumbled upon evidence of the first affair by accident. She hadn’t confronted him about it. She just tried harder to satisfy him—in bed and out—hoping it’d keep him home.

It hadn’t. As the months wore on, it was almost as if Luke wanted to get caught. He wanted Jessie to know he’d been with other women. He hadn’t tried to hide it from anyone, including his family. Casper McKay had been snide about it. Joan looked at her with pity. Dalton and Tell skirted the subject. But Brandt had seethed.

One afternoon Brandt had yelled at Luke for screwing around on her. Luke told Brandt to mind his own goddamn business and he could screw whoever he wanted. When Brandt insisted Jessie deserved better, Luke had laughed, warning Brandt that he wasn’t the better man, and if Brandt ever touched Jessie, Luke would kill him. Neither man knew Jessie watched in misery from the shadows of the barn.

She’d never understood why Brandt had stood up for her. It wasn’t like they’d known each other before she’d married Luke. She’d never understood why Luke had threatened Brandt over her, because she wasn’t the type to turn heads or inspire fierce loyalty. Or fidelity.

So the question on her mind now: Would he have left her for this Samantha girl once he’d found out she carried his child?

No. Luke would’ve bucked up to his responsibility for the kid, but he wouldn’t put himself in a repeat situation of being stuck in a relationship because of a child.

What a mess.

Imagining her husband in bed with another woman was bad enough. But seeing the proof of his passion? Of seeing the physical embodiment of what he’d denied her but he’d given to someone else?

She felt hollow. Totally eviscerated.

How could she look at the child with anything but loathing?

Brandt’s words, He’s little more than a baby, Jess, none of this is his fault, rang in her head and slashed at her heartstrings.

She would not feel guilty. She owed this Samantha girl nothing. She owed Luke nothing.

But she owed Brandt McKay everything.

Didn’t she?

She’d just gotten her life back on track on her own terms. She owed it to herself not to suffer through the heartbreak of wishing the little boy was hers. Of getting pissed off because he should’ve been hers. Of resenting Luke because he should’ve left her pregnant, not some strange teenager.