Cowgirls Don't Cry(102)

It’d been easy to forget these fears when everything had been going along so smoothly. She cared about Landon, but she had no desire to be the kid’s mother. Because she never really would be his mother.

No matter what she did for him, he’d always be affected by his mother abandoning him. He’d always have that kernel of hope that someday his biological mother would come to her senses and connect with him.

Jessie could spend her life loving him and it wouldn’t be enough. And it had nothing to do with him being a McKay.

“Miss? You have to unload the cart yourself,” the checker said to her.

“I’ll do it,” Brandt said from behind her. When he set his hands on her shoulders, she shrugged him off.

Brandt was smart enough to not push the issue as they drove back to her house. He readied Landon for bed and for once Landon didn’t insist Jessie read him a bedtime story.

Jessie was grateful for the busy work of putting away groceries. Once she had that done, she decided she’d scour the kitchen and the bathroom. If that didn’t allow her brain to shut off, she’d go into the barn and find some project to keep her energy and thoughts focused elsewhere.

Brandt came into the kitchen. “We need to talk about what happened at the grocery store.”


“No, we don’t.” She squirted the cleaning solution on the countertop and scrubbed furiously, her rubber gloves squeaking with each stroke.

“Jess—”


She spun around and aimed the spray bottle at him. “Don’t push me. Leave me alone.”


Brandt snatched the plastic bottle out of her hand. “No. Now give me the goddamn gloves and sit on the couch so we can talk about this like rational adults because we’re not gonna shove this under the rug.”


“You don’t get to order me around.”


“Fine.” He exhaled slowly. “Jessie, will you sit on the couch with me so we can hash this out?”


Say no.

Scream no.

He said, “Please.”


Looking at him, she stripped off her gloves. “Give me back my spray bottle.”


“When we’re done talkin’. Do you want a beer?”


“I’d rather have whiskey.”


“Two shots comin’ up.”


Jessie chose to sit in the easy chair, which didn’t make Brandt happy. But she needed to keep a clear head, and whenever Brandt touched her, she pretty much went mindless.

He set the bottle of Maker’s Mark whiskey and two shot glasses on the coffee table. He poured. He knocked one back and refilled it again, holding the shot out to her.

She gulped it, welcoming the burn.

“I know you said you didn’t want to hear anything about Samantha, but in light of what happened, there are a few things you need to know. First off, that woman we saw tonight? According to Samantha, she’s psycho. She’s the mother of the guy Samantha lived with for a while. This woman used to show up, all hours of the night and day, looking for drugs, booze or money. She gave Samantha parenting advice, usually along the lines of give the kid up for adoption, your life will be better.”


“The woman said that stuff about adoption in front of her grown son?”


“Apparently. She badgered Samantha about Landon’s father, if he was paying child support. Between that and the issues with the boyfriend, it got bad enough Samantha left. And no matter what that psycho bitch claimed, Samantha didn’t drink or do drugs during her pregnancy. I believe that.”