Cowgirls Don't Cry(15)

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.