Cowgirls Don't Cry(26)

Before he could give her a less honest, less painful answer, Landon face-planted and commenced to wailing. Brandt was off the steps in an instant, but he didn’t beat Jessie to Landon’s side.

She cocked the boy on her hip and murmured, “You’re okay,” and brushed the dried grass from his hair.

Landon stared at Jessie and then squirmed toward Brandt.

“Think he’s hungry?”


“Maybe. Come to think of it, I’m hungry.”


“Your Uncle Brandt is always hungry so I know you won’t starve when he’s taking care of you.”


Brandt grinned. “As long as the kid likes meat, potatoes and veggies, we’ll get along fine.”


“What? No super spicy chicken wings? No cheesy nachos with jalapenos?”


“Nope. I gave most of that kinda stuff up.”


“Well, whatever you’ve been eating, keep it up. If I haven’t mentioned it, you look great.” Jessie headed for her house, leaving Brandt staring after her, dumbfounded.

A compliment? From Jessie? Out of the freakin’ blue?

What did she want?

Not everything is a power play. Maybe she was just being nice.

While Brandt unloaded the truck and set up the crib in the spare bedroom, Jessie cooked hamburgers and macaroni and cheese. Landon ate a pile of food and almost fell asleep in his high chair. Brandt probably would’ve just put the kid in his jammies and tucked him in bed, but Jessie suggested a bath.

Turned out Landon was a kid who didn’t enjoy baths. It was like wrestling a wet worm—an angry, screaming wet worm. Once he had Landon cleaned up, dried off, freshly diapered and wearing pajamas, Brandt was ready to nod off. But he prepared Landon’s bedtime bottle and settled in the recliner.

Landon made short work of the bottle and was out. Brandt placed him on his back in his crib, tucking the covers around the sleeping boy.

Jessie glanced up from the kitchen table when he returned to the living room. “Is he down?”


“Yeah. I didn’t think it’d be that easy. Quinn is always complaining about how hard it is to get Adam to go to bed.”


“Adam’s a little older and it is harder when a kid is past the ‘bottle before bed’ age.”


He sank into the couch. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned the bottle thing. Like Landon’s somehow…too old to have a bottle.”


She dropped the pen to the table and rubbed the skin between her eyes. “I was just sharing my experience—my limited experience. It’s up to his mother to decide when to wean him.”


“So you don’t think getting him off the bottle is something I oughta tackle while I’m takin’ care of him?”


“God no.” Then Jessie didn’t say anything else.

Brandt didn’t relish spending the next four months waiting for Jessie to converse with him. He snagged the remote and turned the TV on, keeping the sound low, happy that Jessie still had satellite.

After catching up on the latest football games, he hunkered down to watch a western.

As soon as Jessie finished whatever she’d been doing at the table, she joined him on the couch. Might make him selfish, but Brandt wouldn’t mind if this was how the nights for the next four months played out.

Once the movie ended, Jessie stood. “You need anything before I turn in?”


“Nah.” He pointed at the baby monitor. “I’ve got it handled if Landon wakes up.”