Raising Kane (Rough Riders #9)(67)

“Dammit, Brandt. Where are you?” She’d had a lousy day and needed someone to vent to. Brandt never minded listening to her complain, but he’d been pretty scarce since the night he’d invited her home with him. She’d chalked up his uncharacteristic moon-eyed behavior to the fact he’d been drinking before he showed up. The poor man was probably embarrassed for making a pass at her.


She took the pot pie out of the microwave and dropped it on the lace placemat on the table. One placemat. On days like today, when it seemed like everything in the world had gone wrong, seeing that lone placemat, when there used to be two, could bring on a fit of tears like nobody’s business.


Don’t be a crybaby, Jessie.


How many times had she heard that? From her father? From Luke?


Too many to count. But really, who’d know if she sobbed at her dinette table like a lost little girl? She felt like one most days. It wasn’t as if she had friends to confide in since moving to Moorcroft. She’d started to make friends with the women she worked with at Sky Blue, but that wasn’t a good way to cement a friendship, by whining about how sucky her life was.


Jessie didn’t have family to count on either, unless she counted Brandt, but he was Luke’s kin, not hers, and then she was back to wondering why he’d started ignoring her calls.


Maybe because you call him all the time.


So? Her surly side countered. He’s my friend. Friends call each other.


Yeah? How many times has your “friend” called you?


Jessie frowned. Brandt had called her…hadn’t he? Curious, she flipped open her phone and checked received calls. Two calls from her boss at Sky Blue. Twenty-seven from Brandt in the last month.


See? He calls me.


All the calls were in response to you calling him first. How many times have you called him?


She scrolled down to the Dialed option. One hundred fifty-two outgoing calls. In the last two months… Holy crap. Only ten of those calls had been to someone other than Brandt McKay.


She’d called him one hundred and forty-two times in the last two months.


Hot mortification rolled through her like acid. My God. Why had she called Brandt that many times?


Because you’re lonely. Because you know that Brandt is missing Luke too.


So why was it Luke didn’t come up in their conversations very often?


He does. It’s one-sided on your part. You insist on extolling Luke’s virtues, you talk about how much you miss him and Brandt just lets you ramble.


A little dismayed by that thought, she recalled the last few times she’d seen Brandt.


He’d helped her unload hay.


He’d helped her deal with the dead battery in her truck.


He’d helped her fix the broken door on the barn.


He’d helped her unload more hay.


He’d shown up when she’d had plumbing issues.


Except he’d refused to do anything. And yeah, maybe she’d been a little upset about it at the time, his reluctance to fix the problem for her lickety split. But when she’d thought it through the next day, she understood Brandt wasn’t a miracle worker with everything.


That was the first time that’d happened since Luke died; Brandt McKay encountered a problem that he couldn’t fix for her.


Or maybe it was one he wouldn’t fix?


Jessie grabbed a beer from the fridge and started to pace again. Angry at Luke for dying. Angry with herself for doing exactly what she’d sworn she wouldn’t the day Casper McKay had kicked her off their land: rely on a man. And worst of all, the man she’d come to rely on was another McKay.


Would she never learn? She slumped against the wall and swallowed a big gulp of beer. The aftertaste made her shiver with disgust and she looked at the bottle. Why the hell was she still drinking Coors? She didn’t even like Coors—it’d been Luke’s favorite beer, not hers.


Poor, pathetic doormat Jessie. She hadn’t even mustered the guts during her marriage to buy the kind of beer she liked. She’d gone along with whatever Luke wanted because…


Why? She thought he’d love her more if she never rocked the boat? She was afraid he’d leave her, like her father had left her mother? Her “Yes, dear” attitude hadn’t mattered one whit. Luke had left her anyway—maybe not bodily, but the last six months of their marriage had been sheer hell because he’d never been around. Too busy shacking up with some bimbo. Probably she’d stocked Luke’s favorite beer, too, in hopes of keeping him around.


Hah. That hadn’t worked for her either. Luke was dead to both of them.


A burst of anger surfaced and she threw that half-empty bottle across the room and it shattered against the wall.


Her dog whimpered and hid behind the easy chair.


You are the clingiest girl I ever met. Jesus, Jessie, can you just let me do some things on my own? We ain’t joined at the hip. We don’t gotta do everything together just because we’re married.


Yeah, that mindset had worked out well for him, especially since he’d encouraged her to dump her


“lowlife” friends after their wedding, promising they’d make new friends. Couple friends.