Cowgirls Don't Cry(91)

“Anytime sweetheart, I’m not goin’ anyplace. Sweet dreams.” Brandt hung up.

Before Jessie fell asleep she realized she hadn’t asked about Landon at all.

Chapter Seventeen


“Only one thing puts a smile like that on a man’s face,” Tell said.

“And it sure as hell ain’t pumpkin pie,” Dalton added with a snicker.

Brandt snapped out of his flashback to the second night of steamy phone sex with Jessie—and glanced at his smartass brothers. “Maybe the smile is because I’m thinkin’ about kickin’ your asses.”


“Nah. You’da done it yesterday when Dad pissed you off. God knows you love to rail on us when he makes you so mad. Which don’t seem fair, does it, Dalton?”


“Nope. But I’m used to bein’ picked on.”


Tell’s softly spoken, “We’re all used to it,” hung in the air of Brandt’s truck cab like a slab of rotten meat.

Thanksgiving was supposed to be a day when family came together to eat, laugh, watch a little football, eat some more, play cards, hang out.

But that’s never how Thanksgiving played out if Casper McKay had any say in it. He didn’t give a shit that his wife had slaved over a hot stove creating a tasty, plentiful meal. He didn’t care it was the first holiday he’d spend with his only grandson. He didn’t care none of his own family ever invited him over for holiday.

No, the only thing Brandt’s father cared about was if there was enough beer in the fridge. Which there hadn’t been. Which sent Casper McKay rummaging through liquor cabinet during dinner.

Belligerent didn’t begin to describe his behavior after a couple of belts of whiskey. For the first time since Jessie had taken off for Riverton, Brandt was glad she hadn’t been around to witness the family fiasco. His dad baiting him every five minutes. His dad bellering at Dalton for something he’d done or left undone, probably a decade past. Then sneering at Tell for his pathetic attempts to keep the peace.

After three hours of pure hell, Brandt made his excuses. He and Landon hightailed it out of there.

How his sainted mother put up with Casper McKay’s crap for over forty years was truly a miracle. But even docile Joan McKay had snapped at her husband when he acted like an ass. Which had been frequently.

“Does that smile mean you’re thinkin’ about Jessie?”


Brandt gave Dalton, in the passenger seat, an annoyed look.

Tell leaned between them from the back of the quad cab. “What Dalton ain’t so good at askin’—” he shoved Dalton slightly, “—is if you and Jessie are makin’ plans for the future. Because you seem awful damn happy, and we’d be pissed if you were keepin’ it from us.”


“Yeah, because you guys have been so supportive when it comes to how I’ve felt about Jess in the past,” Brandt said sarcastically.

“It’s different now.”


“How so?”


“Because now she feels the same way,” Tell said. “She didn’t before.”


That jarred him. How did these two know how Jessie felt about him when he wasn’t sure about it himself?

“Besides. Jessie’s changed. She was pretty firmly under Luke’s thumb, and it’s taken her some time to figure out who she is and find herself again.”


Dalton shoved Tell this time. “Jesus, Tell, what’s with you spouting off all this new age, hippie, mumbo-jumbo ‘finding herself’ bullshit?”