[Truyện Tiếng Anh] Cowgirls Don't Cry

Cowgirls Don't Cry
Cowgirls Don't Cry Page 50



“Mama mama mama!”

She held him and cried buckets. Through her gasping cries, Samantha babbled, making Landon incoherent promises. Kissing his cheeks. Rubbing his back. Touching him as if his presence might be a dream. Just holding him like she’d never let him get away from her again.

That softened the knife’s edge of pain a little.

Samantha’s eyes drank in every nuance of his face. “Lookit you. You’re such a big boy now.”

“Yef.”

She laughed, even though she was still crying. “And you’re talking too. I’m in for it now, huh?”

“Yef.”

Jessie slipped from the booth, desperate to escape because this was goodbye she’d been dreading since the day she’d first set eyes on him. With her feelings in such turmoil, she was as afraid she’d break down as she was afraid she wouldn’t break down.

Landon finally looked at her and those big blue eyes lit up.

“Hey, lil’ buckaroo,” she said softly.

He said, “Down,” and wiggled until his mother released him. He ran to Jessie hell bent for leather. His contact with her was more of a body check than a hug, which made her laugh. She squeezed him with one arm and placed a kiss on top of his head. “I’m gonna miss you, sweet boy.”

Jessie expected him to squirm away, because even at nineteen months the kid had a time limit on hugs, especially when his uncles were around. God forbid if a McKay—of any age—appeared too girly.

But Landon didn’t race away. He heaved a contented sigh against her neck. Then he moved back and placed a sticky hand on each of her cheeks. He locked his serious gaze to hers and gave her a kiss, square on the mouth. He emitted a noise deep in his throat, then he raced back to his mother.

It took about ten seconds to sink in.

Landon had acted exactly like Brandt. Holding her face. Kissing her. Making that possessive growl.

Her heart absolutely turned over. Landon had just told her, in his little boy way, that he loved her.

Good thing she’d crouched down because she didn’t think her knees would hold her.

But Brandt was already helping her up, giving her his full support.

Tell said to Samantha, “We loaded all the stuff in your car so you’re good to go.”

So Brandt had known Samantha planned to take Landon with her. He had to’ve known packing up Landon’s things would cause her pain and anxiety, so he simply hadn’t mentioned it to spare her. Would she ever get used to the way he put her needs first?

“Thanks.” Samantha buttoned her coat. Then she picked Landon up and held him very close. “I can’t thank you guys enough for what you’ve done for us. I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“Takin’ good care of him from here on out will be payment enough,” Brandt said.

“That I can promise. I’ll keep in touch about visitation and stuff.” She fastened the Velcro under Landon’s chin, securing his hood. “We’d better hit the road, huh, buddy?”

“Yef.”

Brandt said, “Drive safe.”

“I will.”

And with that, Samantha and Landon walked away.

Jessie couldn’t move. She was frozen in mind. In body. In spirit.

Brandt turned her around, trapping her face in his hands, wiping her tears, kissing her lips, her cheeks, the corners of her eyes.

How long they stood there, Jessie didn’t know. At least until the server asked if there was a problem.

Brandt grabbed Jessie’s hand and led her outside to take her home.

Jessie stared out the window and Brandt didn’t push her to talk. However, he wouldn’t let go of her hand. He needed that constant connection to her.

She mumbled something about chores as soon as he shut the truck off. Her distraction could be dangerous so he followed her into the barn. When she slipped on a pair of coveralls, he did too. They worked side by side in silence, spreading hay to feed the horses and the llamas. She checked the stock tank to make sure it hadn’t frozen since this morning. She did everything on autopilot. Brandt wondered how long before she’d crash.

Inside her trailer, neither she nor Brandt remarked how bare the living room was without Landon’s toys strewn all over the rug. Without his bottles clogging the fridge. Without his trucks, cars, trains and books scattered across the coffee table. Even Lexie seemed out of sorts. She’d wander to the door, to Landon’s room, then make a pitiful whine before she curled up in the kitchen in the spot where his high chair stood.

Brandt finally forced her to look at him. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. Seeing her…Samantha. She’s not what I expected. I sort of felt sorry for her. Then I realized I shouldn’t feel sorry for her. She might not have much but she’s got what I always wanted from Luke.”

“A child.”

“Yes. But that’s not all I’ve been thinking about…I’m having such a hard time getting the words to make sense. And you need to know, Brandt. You deserve to know.” Tears shimmered in her eyes and she looked so…lost.

“God. Jess. You’re breakin’ my heart. What can I do?”

“Let’s do something. Anything. Go to a movie, or go out dancing, or go play pool, just get me out of this house and out of my head for a few hours.”

That’s when Brandt understood Jessie would be okay. For the first time all day the tight feeling in his chest loosened a little. “Great idea. We’ll hit Applebee’s in Spearfish for supper first and then we’ll slip on our dancin’ shoes at the Rockin’ R outside Beulah.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“It’s my lucky night, finding Brandt McKay at the bar first thing.”

“Hello, Lydia.”

“Howdy, stranger. I haven’t seen you in ages.”

He shrugged, keeping his eye on the door and not on Lydia’s display of cleavage. “I’ve been busy.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” she cooed. “I worried you might’ve found Jesus and were shunning honkytonks and temptations of the flesh or something noble.”

“Not hardly.” He’d given into the temptations of Jessie’s flesh more times than he could count. In more ways than he could count. That thought brought a smile to his face.

“Lord, that ***y grin of yours still makes me weak kneed.” Lydia leaned in, toying with the buttons on his shirt. “I remember putting a smile like that on your face a time or ten.”

“Old news, Lydia.”

“You know what they say…everything old can be new again.”

Brandt laughed. Hard to believe he used to find this type of hardcore desperation attractive. He finished his beer and set the empty on the bar. “Nice talkin’ to you. See you around.” He started to leave.

But Lydia wrapped her arms around his waist. “Don’t run off. Lemme buy you another beer for old times’ sake.”

“I don’t think—”

“Fine. Then dance with me. Please? None of these guys dance as good as you. You could go for hours without getting tired.”

Lydia could be very persuasive and sadly, Brandt wasn’t immune to her flattery. Besides, Jessie had just stepped outside to take a call from her mom about what’d happened with Landon today. “Okay, one dance. That’s it.”

They zigzagged through the crowd on the dance floor. Lydia spun into his arms, like she’d done dozens of times when they’d been dating, but the flirty move annoyed him. He clasped her hand and started two-stepping. At least the fast tune would keep them from talking.

Unfortunately, Lydia wasn’t deterred by the music’s pace. “So whatcha been up to?”

“Ranch work.” He twirled her, resetting the distance between their bodies.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me what I’ve been up to?”

“No good, probably,” he muttered and twirled her again.

“Bein’ bad feels so good, doesn’t it. You used to think so, too, cowboy.” She spun herself and brushed her ass against his groin. “Or do you need a little reminder?”

This had been a mistake. Lydia had gone from persuasive to conniving. He managed a curt, “Behave.”

Another laugh. “With the uptight way you’re acting, I believe you might’ve found religion after all.”

No. He’d found something better. Jessie.

Brandt tuned out Lydia’s suggestive comments, maintaining a bland expression as his eyes kept darting toward the exit. What could be taking Jessie so long?

Thank God the song ended. Brandt immediately dropped Lydia’s hands and attempted to retreat as the dance floor cleared.

But Lydia wasn’t having any of it. She herded him backward even as he tried to dodge her. When the creases of his thighs hit the stage, he caught the edge to keep from falling on his ass. Lydia took advantage, slithering between his legs. She wound her arms around his neck like twin anacondas, unhinged her jaw and swallowed his face.

Jesus. Brandt felt like he was choking she’d jammed her tongue so far down his throat....

Cowgirls Don't Cry
Cowgirls Don't Cry Page 51



“No.”

Her expression shifted. She whirled to face Lydia. “You get your kicks out of kissing an unwilling man?”

“Oh, sugar, don’t kid yourself for a second he was unwilling.”

“Bull****.”

Lydia smiled cagily. “What are you gonna believe? What you saw with your own eyes? Or what he tells you? ’Cause, you’re awful damn naïve if you don’t think he’ll lie about what just happened to spare your feelings.”

Direct hit. Brandt needed to get Jessie out of here now. “Jessie—”

Jessie’s laughter cut him off. “You want proof?” She pointed to Brandt’s groin. “He doesn’t have a hard-on. If anything you did even turned him on a little, he’d be sporting wood. Trust me, I know. So, sugar, take your desperation to some other man because Brandt is not interested in you.”

But Lydia wouldn’t let it go. “So you’re Jessie. The poor little widow whose husband couldn’t keep it in his pants.” She gave Jessie a derisive head-to-toe inspection. “No wonder he wandered. Looks like you’re trying—and failing—to prove you can keep the interest of another McKay man.”

“Shut your stupid mouth. You don’t know a goddamned thing about Brandt.”

“Hit a nerve, did I?”

“I’ll show you hitting a nerve.” Jessie leapt at Lydia.

Lydia screamed as they hit the floor, Jessie’s fists flailed as she tried to connect with every part of Lydia’s body she could reach. Then Lydia bucked and sent Jessie sprawling. But that didn’t stop Jessie from crawling back and pouncing on her.

Brandt had never seen Jessie enraged. She’d wind up in jail for assault if any of her punches actually landed. He crouched down, wrapped both arms around her middle and lifted her off Lydia.

“Let me go! I’m gonna beat her ass.”

“I think you made your point.”

“No, I’m not done. She doesn’t understand that she doesn’t get to say **** like that about you. I’m gonna make her understand if it takes all goddamn night!”

He held her, hugging her back to his chest, attempting to contain her. “Jess. Baby. Calm down.”

“That ****ing bitch attacked me,” Lydia said as she picked herself up off the floor. “You all saw it.”

Everyone who’d gotten closer to watch the catfight walked away. Not a single person stuck around to back up Lydia’s claims.

Brandt figured they’d best leave too. He loosened his hold on his surprising hellcat.

Mistake.

Jessie broke free and loomed over Lydia, who finally had the good sense to cower like a whipped pup.

“Stay away from him, do you hear me? I will **** you up if I ever see you looking at him again. And if you ever touch him, I swear to God I will—”

“And…we’re done.” Brandt picked Jessie up, snagged their coats off the chairs and carried her out of the bar.

As soon as they were outside, she thrashed and said, “Let me down.”

“Only if you promise me you ain’t gonna make a break for it and go back inside.”

“Bitch would deserve it,” she muttered.

Brandt didn’t release her until they reached his truck. He tossed her the long duster and slipped on his jacket. “Get in.”

“No. I’m too ****ing mad.”

“If you wanna try scream therapy again, we need to get out of town first.”

“I just wanna punch something. Or someone. But since you won’t let me do that…” She kicked a clump of dirt. Tracked down another and kicked it too.

Brandt watched her, unruffled by this violent side of his sweet Jessie, mostly because he understood it. “Why did you go after her like that?”

“Because she had her hands on you. Because she was kissing you. God. She had no right. Are all women so desperate? Didn’t she know better than to throw herself at another woman’s man? In public, no less.”

He froze. His brain backtracked. Wait a second. Jessie hadn’t gotten pissed off because of what Lydia had said about her or Luke, she’d gotten pissed off over Lydia lumping him in with all other cheating men in the world. Hope like he’d never experienced filled his chest. Somehow he managed to keep his tone even when he asked, “So do you make a habit of this?”

Jessie snorted. “Fighting? Not hardly. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone with my bare hands as much as I did the second I saw her plastered to you.”

“That’s interesting.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never had a woman fight over me.”

“Well, I’ve never had a man worth fighting for.”

Brandt erased the five feet between them, forcing her to look at him. “Run that by me one more time.”

Jessie, his sweet fiery Jessie, didn’t stay passive. She slapped her hands on the sides of his face and locked her gaze to his. “You are the one man in the world I will fight for, Brandt McKay, because I love you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Before you jump to the conclusion that I’m telling you this now when Landon isn’t in the picture, you’d be partially right. What I didn’t say earlier today before Landon left with his mother was that I’d never make you choose. But now that he’s gone I was afraid that you don’t need me anymore—”

“Since all I wanted you for was Landon’s childcare?” he demanded. “And all you wanted me for was ***?”

Her eyes searched his. “No. But did the high emotions and intensity of the situation and the hottest freakin’ *** on the planet heighten everything between us?”

The knot of fear in his belly tightened. Oh hell no. He was not losing her now. “Let me make this clear, Jessie. I love you. I’ve loved you for a long goddamn time, even when I shouldn’t have loved you. I know you love me—even when you were too stubborn or scared to admit it. I see it whenever you look at me. I feel it when you’re touchin’ me. So I cannot for the life of me understand why you’re questioning this now. Now when we have no obstacles and a lifetime ahead of us.”

“Because I want a clean slate about everything. That includes the big ‘what if’ scenario that’s been hanging between us for three months.”

“So what are you sayin’?”

“If Samantha had shown up today and asked you to continue as Landon’s guardian without specifying how long, I would’ve pulled up my big girl panties and stayed by your side where I belong. I would’ve found a way to deal with it.”

This woman…goddamn, she could knock him to his knees.

“I want you in my life, Brandt. So if part of your life is caring for your brother’s son, then that makes it part of my life too. Whatever black and white view I had of this situation with Landon in the beginning changed over the past few months. I care about him. I care what happens to him.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m happy we had him for as long as we did. But seeing how much Samantha loves him and how happy he was to see her…I know he belongs with his mother.”

“This is why I asked you to help me. Because you’ve got a big heart and you’re willing to put it out there, even if there’s a chance you might get it stomped on. Jessie—”

She placed her thumbs over his lips. “Us being together won’t be an easy road. There will be people like Lydia, like your father, who will want us to fail. So you should know I fell in love with you not because you’re Luke’s brother, but in spite of it.

“You’ve become everything to me in ways Luke never was. I never imagined I’d find a man like you, who’s sweet, ***y, funny, thoughtful, kind. A man who makes me feel like I’m enough for him. A man I can trust without question. A man I will fight anyone for.” Her eyes filled with tears and she whispered,

“God. I feel like such an idiot because you’ve been here the whole time.”

“Hey.” Brandt wiped her cheeks. “You weren’t ready to see me in any of those roles in your life.”

“Yet you waited until I was.”

“After you were so shocked when I told you I wanted more than a family type relationship, I realized too late you still needed more time. Come to find out time was good for me too.”

“Meaning what?”

“The years you were married to Luke, it hurt me to see how he treated you. After Luke died, I made myself available, hopin’ you’d see me as the man who could heal you. And you took what I offered, but gave me nothin’ in return.”

“I’m sorry.”

Brandt kissed the inside of her wrist. “I know you are. I also know it wasn’t intentional. In the last few months, I’ve gotten to know you, the real Jessie, not the idealized version I’d built up as the woman I was determined to save. Not the woman who needed me only as her handyman and grief counselor. Not the woman I lusted after. I realized what I felt before wasn’t love. Because now? Now I understand what...

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“Don’t leave me hangin’ now,” he half-snarled.

“What about your family? I think Dalton and Tell will be okay with us being together. But your dad?

He hates me. Can you—”

“What’s the worst he can do? Say no?” Brandt kissed her. “Nothin’ would be worse than not havin’

you in my life, Jess. Nothin’.”

“Then if you’re sure…Yes. I’ll marry you.”

He whooped and spun her around, not noticing the cold, or anything else except the look of happiness in Jessie’s beautiful eyes that he knew mirrored the happiness in his soul.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Brandt would rather have a root canal without anesthesia than talk to his father.

He knocked on the front door of the house he’d grown up in.

His mother answered, dishtowel in hand, as usual. “Brandt. Sweetie, it’s good to see you. You don’t need to knock. Come in. What’s up?”

“I have something I wanna talk to you guys about.”

She kept her expression neutral. “Go into the dining room. Your dad’s in there. I’ll be right in with coffee.”

Brandt rounded the corner and saw his dad sprawled in his padded captain’s chair at the end of the big oak table. He stopped out of habit to gauge his father’s mood.

If Casper McKay was happy he’d push back in his chair and tip his hat up to meet your gaze. If Casper was out of sorts, he wouldn’t acknowledge your presence at all.

Brandt studied him. In the last two years he’d aged ten. His black hair was mostly gray. The deep blue of his eyes had faded into the hue of old denim. His eyebrows were still black, still drawn together in a frown. The firm set to his mouth gave the appearance of a permanent scowl. His lean face and long neck flowed into a hard, tight frame, a body weathered on the wide-open spaces of Wyoming. A mindset that was as cold, hard and unforgiving as the land that’d forged him.

No smile. No “How are you?” just a calculating stare and a curt, “Brandt.”

Definitely in a piss poor mood.

Brandt left his hat on and he grabbed the back of the dining room chair in front of him. “Dad.”

“You here for a reason?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, spit it out.”

His mother brought Brandt cup of coffee and refilled Casper’s cup before attempting to hightail it out of the room. Brandt snagged her elbow. “Stay. I want you to hear this too.”

She nodded and slipped into the chair on her husband’s right side.

“Well?”

“Landon’s mother picked him up yesterday and they’re gonna be livin’ in Casper. After they get settled she wants to talk about visitation rights.”

“Oughta be the other way around. She oughta be here askin’ us for visitation. That boy belongs with his family. If you’d hired a decent lawyer that specializes in these cases—”

“You mean that ambulance chasin’ bozo from Cheyenne? Wrong. Besides, Landon belongs with his mother.” Brandt glanced at his mom, but she was busy studying the floral pattern on the placemat.

“So you here to gloat that you got what you wanted? My only grandson taken away from me?”

Like Casper had paid any attention to Landon while he was here. He didn’t want him, but he didn’t want anyone else to have him either. “No. I’m here to tell you that I’m marryin’ Jessie.”

Silence.

His dad slowly stood. “Is this some kind of goddamn joke?”

“No.”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Brandt? It ain’t enough that she made your brother miserable, and that misery got him killed?”

He retorted, “She had nothin’ to do with Luke’s car accident. And I ain’t gonna argue with you about who was more miserable in their marriage because neither you nor I lived with them. But that’s all in the past now.”

“Past? Sounds like you’re not putting her in the past where she belongs.”

“That’s because she belongs with me. Her future is with me.”

“That right? So she spread her legs for you. Big ****in’ deal. Don’t mean you gotta tie yourself—and us—to her again. The only good thing to come outta Luke’s death was her leaving.”

This was a ****ing nightmare, way worse than he’d anticipated. “She didn’t leave voluntarily. You forced her out. Which was the ****tiest thing you’ve ever done.”

He shrugged. “So you say. And you ain’t exactly unbiased, are you?”

Count to ten.

“I’m marryin’ her and there’s nothin’ you can do about it.”

His dad moved closer, a sidewinder about to strike. “Oh, don’t be too sure about that, son. Don’t forget who owns this ranch and who pays your wages.”

Brandt’s fingers tightened on the back of the chair. “Is that a threat?”

“Just stating the facts. Everything you’ve got, except that pitiful chunk of land you and your brothers bought, comes from me. And I can take it back any goddamn time I want. Your name ain’t on the papers, boy, mine is.”

Before Brandt could say a word, his mother stood. “Casper. Don’t do this.”

The mean glint intensified. “I’ll do anything I damn well please, and it’s time this boy really understood that. So if you insist on tyin’ yourself to that woman in any way, you won’t inherit a single inch of McKay land. And you know I don’t bluff.”

At that moment his dislike for his father bloomed into full-blown hatred. The next thing Brandt knew, he’d pushed the smarmy son of a bitch into the wall and pressed his arm across his father’s windpipe, holding him in place.

He vaguely heard his mother say, “Brandt, stop,” but the rage had overtaken him.

“Let me tell you something, you mean goddamn bastard, I’m done. I’m done puttin’ up with your bull**** excuses for why you haven’t turned the ranch over to your sons. I’m done with you lording it over us. We’ve been runnin’ this ranch since before Luke died, not you.”

Casper choked on his own spit as he tried to say something.

But Brandt wasn’t about to let him speak before he said his piece. “So if you think you’ve got it in you, old man, to do everything yourself, then by God, I’d like to see you try. But we both know that won’t happen, will it?”

When his father didn’t respond, Brandt eased up on his chokehold. “Answer me, goddammit.”

“You think you’re so ****in’ smart.”

“I know it don’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that you’ve got no one in your life to help you if I walk away from the ranch. Tell and Dalton won’t stick around. And you’d rather let this place fall into ruin and let the cattle starve before you’ll ask your brothers for help, wouldn’t you? So yeah, chase me off. You go on out there in the bitter ****in’ cold and deal with feeding twice a goddamn day. Good luck with calving season and everything else that it takes to run this ranch, since you haven’t done a goddamned thing for close to ten years. Ain’t that right?”

“You think I owe you something? I don’t. I owe you nothin’.”

Brandt got right in his dad’s face. “I’ve busted my ass for years even when nothin’ I ever did pleased you. I’ve put up with your bull****. I’ve watched you prefer the company of a twelve pack to the company of your wife. I’ve watched you destroy any chance of a relationship with me, Tell and Dalton, because you’re pissed off at God and the universe that we’re here and Luke isn’t.”

“He shouldn’t have died.”

“But he did. And it’s no one’s fault, least of all Jessie’s.”

“If she woulda made him happy, he wouldn’t’ve been lookin’ for it all over the goddamn county. That little bitch made him miserable from the day he married her. And she’ll make you miserable too. Mark my words.”

Brandt shoved him again, hard. “I’m so ****in’ sick and tired of you running off at the mouth about her. You don’t know a thing about Jessie. You never have.”

“And I never will.”

“Brandt. Let him go.”

He felt rather than saw Tell and Dalton move in behind him. But he couldn’t make his hand release his father’s shirt. He couldn’t move his arm.

“Come on, bro. This isn’t helping.”

A beat passed and Brandt finally let go and stepped back.

A smirk twisted his father’s face. “Felt good, didn’t it? To give in to that anger? I saw it in your eyes.

No matter what you say, no matter how hard you try, you know the truth. You’re just like me.”

Infuriated, Brandt lunged for him again, but he got there too late.

Tell had pinned their father against the wall. “Shut it, old man. Brandt may’ve gotten the hair trigger temper from you, but my anger has been smoldering for years and I guarantee you don’t want me to give...

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Without saying anything to her? That was strange. Brandt always searched her out when she did chores. Always.

Maybe he was tired. Yesterday was long and emotionally trying for both of them. Not to mention he’d kept her up half the night, making love to her until they fell asleep still joined—which had been a first for her, and more romantic than she’d imagined. Draped across Brandt’s warm body, her head nestled under his chin, her knees curled by his hips with his **** still embedded inside her, his hands cupping her ass.

She’d woken up a couple hours later when he hardened inside her. He rolled her over and made love to her again, whispering words of devotion. Declaring his undying, never-ending love for her. Making promises she actually believed.

It’d been the greatest night of her life.

Smiling, she dropped the bucket and the pitchfork next to the gate and raced to the house. She burst inside. “Brandt?”

No answer.

Lexie lifted her head and gave her a crabby look for disturbing her nap.

Huh. That was weird. Brandt’s boots weren’t on the rug. His clothes weren’t hung up on the coat tree.

She kicked off her overshoes and walked down the hallway. “Brandt? You okay?”

No answer.

He wasn’t in the bathroom.

He wasn’t in the bedroom.

Maybe she’d just missed him and he was in the barn.

As Jessie was slipping her boots back on, she heard her cell phone beep, indicating she had a voice mail. She snatched the phone off the coffee table and checked the missed calls. Tell had called. Four times in the last hour.

Her stomach sank to her toes. She dialed her voice mail and listened to the first of two messages.

“Jessie. Brandt is on his way there. Or I assume he’s on his way. He’s not answering any phone calls from me or Dalton and…Jesus. We’re freaked out. It didn’t go well with Dad today and…Just call me, okay?”

Didn’t go well? What the hell did that mean? The next message started to play.

“Jess, I know I already left you a message, but it’s really important you get back to me right away and let me know you’re okay. I’ve never seen Brandt like this.”

Never seem him like this. Like what? Why would Tell be worried that Brandt would hurt her? Brandt would never ever hurt her.

Maybe he’s worried that Brandt will hurt himself.

Oh God. No.

Fear spiked her pulse. Jessie tore down the steps and sprinted to the barn. But when she reached the side barn door, which had been left ajar, she skidded to a stop. Busting in on him was a bad idea.

She slipped inside as quietly as possible. The familiar scents of hay, manure, dirt, grain and grease didn’t offer the usual comfort, especially when she heard harsh grunts and the hard and fast thud thud thud of one object striking another.

The sound of a chain rattling echoed from the tack room. A sound she recognized. The heavy bag.

She crept to the back of the barn and froze.

Any relief that Brandt was taking out his aggressions on the punching bag fled when she saw all the blood. Spattered on his face. On his bare chest and arms. Bloody streaks smeared on the canvas cover of the bag. His knuckles were raw. His forearms were scraped from elbow to wrist. Bloody scrapes spread across both his shoulders.

He’d taken off his shirt to inflict the most possible damage to his body. His neck and chest and abs were coated with a mixture of sweat and blood. When Jessie found the guts to look at his face, she couldn’t withhold a gasp. His hair was plastered to his head. His face was bright red, the muscles in his jaw flexed with every punch he threw. The veins in his neck bulged to the point she could see his pulse pounding. His forehead and cheeks and chin were wet, but she couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or tears. But it was his eyes that stopped her. She recognized the rage and grief. She didn’t recognize the feral light that made him look like a wild animal, incapable of rational thought.

He’s hurting himself. Stop him.

But Jessie was frozen in that place between logic and fear. What if she stepped in and he was so far gone he somehow hurt her? Without knowing what he was doing? Brandt would never forgive himself.

Can you forgive yourself if he has an aneurysm and you stood by and let it happen?

No. That snapped her out of her trance, watching Brandt beat the heavy bag and himself to a pulp.

“Brandt.”

No response.

She said it louder. “Brandt.”

Still no response.

Jessie moved closer. “Brandt. Stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

Without missing a punch, he said, “Go away. You don’t want to be around me right now.”

Left punch, right punch, left jab, right jab. She stood there long enough to memorize the pattern. Her gut tightened into a knot when she noticed the skin peeling back from his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me.”

He grunted and nailed the heavy bag harder. “Get the **** out of here, Jessie. Now.”

“Why should I leave?”

“Because I’m pissed off.”

“You think I haven’t dealt with a pissed off man before?”

“Not like me. Never when I’m like this.”

“So? I can handle—”

“I’m not Landon, throwing a little boy tantrum.”

“You sure?” she shot back.

“Don’t ****in’ push me.”

“Don’t ****in’ shut me out.”

Brandt made a roaring noise and started whacking his forearms into the bag. Left, right, left, right each blow harder than the last. His need to grit his teeth to deal with the new pain he was imposing upon himself was the last straw.

Jessie lost it. Angry tears, frustrated tears, scared tears all poured out at once and she screamed at him, pulling the canvas bag away from him. “Goddammit Brandt, stop! Stop it! You’re hurting yourself. You’re hurting yourself and it’s killing me. My God. Please. Just stop.”

The flying arms slowed, then stopped. Brandt leaned forward, chest heaving with every ragged breath, his body shaking as he rested his forehead to the heavy bag and wrapped his arms around it to keep himself upright.

She stumbled behind him, pressing her face into his sweaty back, molding her body to his. Holding him as he vibrated with rage, holding him as he bled, trying to hold them both together.

Brandt’s voice was a whisper of pain. “I hate him. I ****ing hate him. I never…” His voice broke and once again they were locked in hellish silence. “I never wanted you to see me like this.”

Jessie understood him not wanting to show weakness to others, but she thought they’d gone beyond that. “So why did you come here, Brandt? To my house?”

Another long silence. Then his soft, “Because I had no place else to go.”

Angry tears formed and she released him. “So I’m a last resort now?”

He whirled around so fast he bumped into her, knocking her off balance and sideways. In super slow-mo she crashed into the wooden slats, hissing as a splinter sliced her cheek, gasping as she twisted her body to land on her hands and knees, sucking in a harsh breath as gravel and hay dug into her palms and her knees skidded out from underneath her.

Then Brandt was roughly hauling her upright. His grip on her biceps hurt, but she sucked up the pain.

The little sting was nothing compared to the damage he’d exacted on himself. She looked at him.

The agony in his eyes stole her breath. “Oh God, look at you. You’re bleeding. I did that. I hurt you.”

“I’m okay.”

Brandt recoiled in horror. “I have to go.”

“Go where? Brandt, you don’t even have a shirt on—”

He stumbled back, turned and walked out.

Don’t let him go. Not like this.

Jessie snatched up his clothes and chased him down, planting herself right in front of him. “At least put your goddamn clothes on if you’re leaving me.”

He ducked his head and grabbed the bundle. But he didn’t deny he was leaving her.

“Talk to me. I deserve that much.”

“You deserve much better than a man who lashes out in anger and hurts you.”

“You didn’t do it on purpose.”

“But it still happened. It can happen again.”

“That’s bull**** and you know it. Tell me what the hell happened with your dad today.”

Wincing, he yanked his shirt on, then his coat. He finally looked at her. “I need some time.”

Oh God. She went dizzy. Her legs, her world threatened to go out from under her. Gritting her teeth, she locked her knees to keep them from buckling. “Time for what?”

“Time to think.” He gently moved her aside from blocking the driver’s side door. “Go inside before you freeze to death.”

But she couldn’t seem to make her feet move. She watched him drive away.

She stood there until the wind picked up and snow swirled around her. Until Lexie’s barks roused her and she trudged inside, absolutely numb.

Her entire body shook. She stripped down and stayed under the shower spray until she drained the water heater of every drop of hot water. She dressed in her warmest...

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Her Irish coffee threatened to come back up.

“Then Brandt threw Dad against the wall and that’s when me’n Dalton came in. After that, Brandt left.”

“So you don’t know if he’s decided—”

“Don’t say it, Jessie, don’t even ****ing think it. Brandt loves you. He always has.”

She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “But he loves that ranch too. That’s all he’s known.

That’s all he’s ever wanted was to take over running it.”

“And you think our Dad don’t know that?”

“I know that once Casper has drawn the line in the sand, he won’t erase it, he won’t move it, and he sure as hell won’t back down from it. Brandt will have to choose.”

A muttered curse, followed by, “Yeah, it sucks, but he will.”

Poor Brandt hadn’t wanted to choose between her and Landon. He’d dodged that bullet only to have the gun waved in his face again. As much as she wanted to be the one he’d pick, as much as she wanted to plead her case and offer him assurances that their life together would be worth giving up his heritage, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She had to give him the time to decide, even if it damn near killed her, so he wouldn’t have regrets about his choice.

Even if she did.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Brandt couldn’t go to his trailer, couldn’t go to Tell’s place or Dalton’s place, couldn’t go to Ben’s.

Definitely couldn’t go back to Jessie’s.

His entire body burned with shame. After he’d left his folk’s house, he’d driven to Jessie’s on autopilot. But once there, he realized he didn’t want her to see him in such an extreme state of anger. So he thought he’d take the edge off by using her heavy bag.

Everything was a blur after that. Until he saw Jessie watching him. Every ounce of shame surfaced.

It defied logic when she’d wrapped herself around him, offering him comfort when he should’ve been reassuring her that he wasn’t an animal.

An animal that’d hurt her.

His beautiful, sweet, kind, loving Jessie had blood on her face. Blood he’d brought forth in anger. It’d made him absolutely sick.

He’d had to get out of there.

He needed a place to think things through.

He’d ended up at the bunkhouse. It sat empty for most of the year, only used during calving and haying season. Or when one of his cousins and their wives needed alone time, hence the nickname the nookie shack.

It wasn’t easy to get to, especially not in a snowstorm. Equipped with food, water and a bunkbed, Brandt figured he could crash a couple days before anyone thought to look here.

He fired up the wood stove and set a pan of snow on the top to melt. He’d need to clean himself up since his wounds were starting to sting. But his adrenaline rush was history and he crashed. He hit the bed with his boots on, his clothes on, his gloves on, in too much pain to do anything but groan before he passed out cold.

Brandt dreamed of Luke.

The old Luke. The brother he’d laughed with and worked with and worshipped his whole life. The brother he’d mourned more than anyone other than Jessie had ever known.

They sat around a campfire, drinking icy cold Fat Tire, staring at the black sky overloaded with stars.

The silence between them wasn’t awkward, as it’d been the last few years.

Brandt sipped his beer, taking in the wide-open space. It wasn’t anywhere he and Luke had ever been.

Everything about it seemed…too perfect. He looked at his brother. “So, is this heaven? Or hell?”

Luke shrugged. “Neither, really. I guess you’d call it neutral ground.”

“Why are we here?”

“You tell me. It’s your dream, bro. I’m dead.”

Brandt winced. He wondered how much this dream brother knew about what’d happened in the past few months.

“I know about you and Jessie,” he said softly.

“Then you know I love her.”

“You’ve always loved her.”

“Did you really hate me for that, Luke?”

“No. I felt guilty. I should’ve let you have her that first night. I shouldn’t have tried so damn hard to prove that I was the better man. When it’s always been obvious that you are the better man. In all respects.

It kinda pisses me off.” Luke smirked, and flicked the cap of his beer bottle at Brandt, like he always used to.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Old times’ sake.” Luke’s intense gaze didn’t waver. “None of that past stuff matters anymore. You are doin’ the right thing by her?”

Brandt kept his cool since he’d already lost his temper once today. Granted, he doubted this dream embodiment of Luke could swing back. “Do you really think I’d pick a chunk of dirt over Jessie? Do you really think I’d walk away from her now when I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted?”

Luke shrugged again. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

“I know what’s important. I won’t be like you, Luke.”

“Good.”

“What? No excuses?”

“There wasn’t any excuse for what I did. I just wanted to—”

“Give me your blessing?” Brandt poked in the fire with a long stick, close enough he felt the heat burning his knuckles.

“You don’t need that from me. Just havin’ her in your life will be blessing enough.”

When Brandt looked up from the fiery red embers, Luke was gone.

He woke up gasping, coughing from the campfire smoke, his knuckles smarting from being too close to the fire.

But as he pushed himself upright, he remembered where he was. In the bunkhouse, which accounted for the smell of smoke. He glanced down at his hands, hot because they were still encased in gloves.

That explained it.

But still…What a weird ****ing dream.

Brandt tossed another log on the fire, downed four aspirin and returned to the bunk. His clothes were stuck to his body with a mixture of blood and sweat, but he couldn’t muster the energy to clean himself up.

He managed to toe off his boots. As he took off his coat, something pinged on the wooden floor. Despite the shooting pain in his arms, he reached down and caught the circular object on the tip of his finger.

A metal cap from a bottle of Fat Tire beer.

No. It couldn’t be.

He spun around the room, half-expecting to still be in that alternate reality, praying everything today had been some kind of twisted dream. His father gleefully cutting him out of his heritage. Losing his mind in a fit of rage in front of Jessie and hurting her. Hoping the walls of the bunkhouse would disappear and he’d see his brother, sitting by the campfire, drinking beer and grinning at him. Just like old times.

But nothing changed.

Took Brandt really long time to fall asleep after that.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Day 1

Brandt hadn’t stopped by. He hadn’t called. Jessie went about her Sunday routine as usual. Cleaning.

Washing clothes. Paying bills. Feeding the animals. Cooking a pot roast with all the trimmings—enough food for two.

Day 2

Brandt hadn’t stopped by. He hadn’t called. Jessie took advantage of the Monday holiday to work with her horses. Then she fed the animals. She drove to the store for ice cream. She watched TV. She called her mother. She fell into bed alone.

Day 3

Brandt hadn’t stopped by. He hadn’t called. Jessie couldn’t face going into work at Sky Blue so she called in sick. And she was heartsick. She curled up on the couch with Lexie. She drank tea and ate toast.

Between the bouts of sniffles, she checked her phone to make sure the damn thing was working. She fed the animals. She heated up a can of soup and shuffled off to bed alone.

Day 4

Brandt hadn’t stopped by. He hadn’t called. Just how much time did the man need? But Jessie couldn’t face Skylar or India or Kade or Kane or Ginger or Simone without breaking down completely. She needed another day. Despite the guilt, she called in sick.

Jessie assumed the person rapping on her door at ten a.m. would be Skylar. Jessie considered ignoring it, but it’d be easier to ’fess up here, rather than in an official capacity at Skylar’s office. She shushed Lexie and opened the door.

Joan McKay stood on her porch. She looked different but Jessie couldn’t put her finger on what it was about her that was off.

It hit her. Jessie grabbed Joan’s arm. “Has something happened to Brandt?”

Joan shook her head. “As far as I know Brandt is fine.”

She sagged against the doorframe. “Thank God.”

“Haven’t you heard from him?”

“Not at all.”

Sorrow flickered in Joan’s eyes. “Can I come in?”

“Ah sure.” Jessie poured two cups of coffee while Joan took off her coat and settled on the couch. She handed her a cup. Did she sit next to her former mother-in-law? Or keep her distance, like she always had?

“I imagine you’re wondering why I’m here.”

Jessie sat beside Joan on the couch. “You...

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“Know what I never understood? Why Casper hated me so much in the first place.”

Joan drained her coffee and walked to the kitchen. Almost on automatic, she poured herself another cup, but it sat cooling untouched on the counter for several excruciating minutes while she stared out the front window.

Jessie followed her, a feeling of dread settling in her bones. “Joan? Is everything all right?”

“No. I can’t even begin to tell you how wrong it is. All of this.” She braced her hands on the counter in front of the sink. “Casper hated you because your bun-in-the-oven marriage to Luke reminded him of me. Of us.”

Okay. That was news. Luke had ever mentioned it. Or maybe Luke hadn’t known. “Yours was a shotgun wedding?”

“Yes. Are you shocked?”

Jessie had to tread lightly. This was the most Joan had ever opened up to her. “Yes. I am.”

“Because Casper ended up with someone like me?” Joan asked, not bothering to hide her petulance.

“No. The opposite. I can’t fathom how a woman like you ended up with a man like him.”

“You really are sweet,” Joan murmured. Then she sighed. “The truth is, at one time, Casper was considered quite a catch. He came from a good family. His future was set as part of the ranching McKays.

He was good-looking, charming, fun, wild as hell, but that bad boy side is always so appealing, isn’t it?

Why do women have this overwhelming desire to tame a bad boy? Then we’re shocked when that taming doesn’t happen. Or worse, when it does stick we lament the man they used to be.”

Joan seemed lost in thought so Jessie stayed quiet. But she hadn’t seen Luke as the bad boy to tame.

Brandt was the polar opposite of a bad boy, so it wasn’t a female mindset she understood, but she’d seen friends drawn to that type of man again and again and it rarely ended well.

“Anyway, I wasn’t particularly pretty. I wasn’t particularly charming. I wasn’t particularly clever. I was actually pretty plain. I knew plain, shy and boring would never catch the eye of a dynamic man like him. And I wanted him more than anything on earth.”

As hard as she tried, Jessie couldn’t make the connection between that man Joan was describing and the Casper she knew.

“Casper had half a dozen girls on the string at any given time. So I became the type of girl he couldn’t resist.” She paused for effect. “Easy. He’d come to me after his pretty, clever, charming little girlfriends wouldn’t put out. He came to me often because I’d do anything in bed he wanted. Any time, any place.

“This went on for about six months. At first I believed I could get him to fall for me. That our bedroom romps would make him like me. Would make him willing to have me on his arm in public, instead of just his dirty little bedroom secret. I dreamed he’d take me dancing. Or out for dinner. But like most nineteen-year-old girls, I was naïve. I’d heard a rumor from my friends that Casper was getting serious with a woman from Spearfish. One night I snuck into his favorite bar and watched them. She was one of those beautiful blondes, curvy body, perfect face, life of the party. She was everything I wasn’t. I knew Casper was head over heels in love with her. I knew after the first time he took her to bed I’d never see him again.”

Jessie held her breath.

“So I lied. I told my father I was pregnant. Told him I’d been sneaking around with Casper McKay for months. My father went directly to Jed McKay and demanded his son do the right thing and marry me.”

“And he did.”

“Yes. I was happy. Obviously Casper was not. I’d hoped I’d get pregnant for real right away and ours wouldn’t be a relationship based on a lie. When four months passed and I wasn’t showing, I faked a miscarriage. It was a lot easier to do in those days. Ten years passed before I got pregnant and by year five Casper figured out I’d tricked him.”

She felt sick. Everything was clicking into place but it didn’t make it easier to accept or understand.

Joan reached for her coffee and drank before continuing. “He flew into a rage and said I’d ruined his life, which was probably true. It was the only time he ever hit me. He left and didn’t come back for a week.

And when he came back, he was a different man entirely.

“I was so…grateful he hadn’t thrown me out and so relieved he still wanted to bed me, that I lived solely for him to make up for the lie and the trouble I’d caused. Like any man, he got used to using me doing everything for him, never questioning him. By the time we started having the boys, he’d turned into bitter. He took out his frustration with how his life turned out on them—as a punishment to me, not to them, because he knew how much I loved our sons. He ostracized his brothers. And I was still too afraid that he’d leave me, proving every fear I’d ever had about my worth, so I did nothing. I kept my mouth shut.

For years.”

“What changed?”

“Luke died. And Casper has become more bitter, if that’s possible. When we found out about Landon…” Joan turned around but she wouldn’t look Jessie in the eye. “It sliced me to the quick to discover that Brandt didn’t trust me with Luke’s child. Not because I’d be cruel to the boy, but because I wouldn’t stop Casper from being the same way to Landon that he’d been to his own sons.”

God. This was so ugly. So unnecessary.

“These are my mistakes, Jessie, and I’ve owned up to them. But the final straw? When Casper told Brandt to choose between the ranch and you. When he told me that our child would never be welcome in our home again. When he told me he never wanted to see Brandt again.” Joan lifted her head and met Jessie’s gaze. “I won’t lose another son. I won’t lose Tell or Dalton either. I can’t do this anymore.”

Was Joan looking for a place to stay? Or just moral support? Jessie wasn’t sure and didn’t want to make a misstep with Brandt’s mother after she’d reached out to her. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ve already done it. I’ve left my husband.”

Jessie’s mouth fell open in shock. “What?”

“I should’ve done it long ago. So when he raced over to talk to his brothers after cutting Brandt off, I packed up and lit out.”

“Where did you go?”

“I’ve been bouncing between Carolyn’s, Kimi’s and Vi’s. They’ve rallied around me, which has been nice. But…” She sighed. “It’s time I moved on. We’ve been miserable together for so long, maybe we have a chance to find happiness if we’re apart.”

“But where will you go now?”

“I’m going to Casper.” Joan expelled a nervous laugh. “Funny, huh? That I’m leaving Casper to go to Casper? After I found out about Samantha and Landon, I visited Samantha in jail a few times. Poor thing doesn’t have anyone in her life she can rely on. She needs help and she’s accepted my offer to be there for her and Landon. He’s such an unexpected joy. I haven’t had much joy in my life lately. At sixty-two years old I feel I’m due.”

“Will you be living with them?”

She shook her head. “Close by. I’ve got a cousin who’s agreed to let me stay with her temporarily. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying there. Luckily I won’t need to get a job, not that I’m qualified for more than cookin’ and cleanin’ anyway, because I’ve got the ‘mad’ money I’ve been saving.”

“Mad money?” Was that like…egg money or something?

“Every time Casper got mad about something, I put a dollar in the jar. You can imagine I’ve got a tidy pile after forty years.”

That did cause Jessie to smile. Until she realized she might be the first one Joan had confided in.

“Does Brandt know you’re leaving?”

“Yes. I talked to Dalton and Tell last night and I stopped at Brandt’s house right before I came over here.”

Her heart leapt at the mention of Brandt’s name. “Oh. So he’s home then? Not at the ranch?”

“Why would he be at the ranch?”

“Because…hasn’t Brandt…I mean—” spit it out, Jessie, “—he hasn’t…Fine. I haven’t seen or heard from him so I thought he’d already made his choice.”

Joan placed her hand on Jessie’s forearm in such an uncharacteristically loving gesture Jessie’s heart stalled. This couldn’t be good. “Jessie. Brandt loves you. There never was any question in anyone’s mind who he’d choose. Including his father’s.”

Before relief swept through her fully, she demanded, “Then why haven’t I seen him for four days?”

“Maybe you oughta be asking him that, instead of me.”

Jessie realized Joan was exactly right. No more of this giving him time, waiting around for him to come his senses bull****. The old Jessie would stand around and wring her hands and...

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Jessie wanted that same happiness for herself. Dammit. She deserved it.

And the only way to get it was to take it.

After she changed into work clothes, she hitched the empty horse trailer to her truck and headed out.

Butterflies danced in her belly as she drove down the long driveway leading to Brandt’s house. By the time she reached the banks of snow piled by the deck, Brandt stood on the steps, waiting for her.

“Jess? What are you doin’ here with a horse trailer?”

She scaled the stairs in one step and got right in his face. “Did you mean what you said? When you told me you loved me and wanted to marry me?”

“Yes. But—”

“Did you tell your dad to take a flyin’ leap as far as the ranch is concerned?”

“Yes. But—”

“In the past four days when you haven’t contacted me at all,” she lightly cuffed him in the arm, “have you had any regrets about anything that’s been going on between us in the last few months?”

“No. But—”

“Good. Then what are you waiting for? Let’s get your stuff packed up and loaded in the trailer so we can take it back to my place.”

Brandt circled her biceps, stopping her. “Whoa. Wait a second. Do you know what’s happened? I’ve lost my identity, my job, and I’ve got a limited skill set in the world outside ranching, I’m damn close to destitute and you’re…” His eyes narrowed. “Chipper as a damn squirrel about that.”

Jessie laughed. “Of course I am.”

“Why?”

“Because—”

“Why would you want me?”

“Because—”

“I can’t offer you anything.”

She knocked free of his hold and grabbed him by the lapels to get nose to nose with him. “Now you listen to me, Brandt McKay. I love you. You. Not your ranch, not your station in life as part of the McKay ranching dynasty. You’ve already offered me everything I want.”

“Which is?”

“A lifetime with you.”

His eyes softened. “Jess.”

“Don’t you dare back out on me now. So we’ve hit yet another rough spot. So? Ain’t the first time and I doubt it’ll be the last. But I have every faith we’ll overcome it. Together.”

“But—”

“You’re the best man I’ve ever known. You are worth fighting for. We are worth fighting for. I love you. I love you so freakin’ much. Don’t give up. Please.” She moved even closer, completely invading his space. “Say something, dammit.”

“I would if you’d left me get a word in edgewise.” He brushed his lips across hers. “I missed you.” He kissed her. “I love you.” He kissed her again. “God, do I ever love you.” One last smooch to her mouth.

“But you’re too late.”

Her heart damn near stopped. “Too late for what?”

“To help me pack. Everything is already loaded in the back of my truck.”

Then she kissed him. Jessie wanted to kiss him with all he hunger and passion he always gave her, but it was hard to keep their lips attached when all she could do was smile.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he murmured against her mouth, much later, as they were twined together in his bed. “What prompted you to come after me?”

“The fear that you changed your mind and decided I wasn’t worth all the hassle.”

“What hassle?”

She gave him a light head butt. “Oh, a little thing like your dad making you choose between the ranch and me.” Her eyes searched his. “Why didn’t you tell me that the day you showed up and killed my poor heavy bag?”

That flash of shame appeared, heating his cheeks. “I get in these…rages, Jess. They’re ugly and I’m mean. I come out swinging and don’t stop until everything and everybody in front of me is leveled. Or until someone hands me my ass or I pass out. Fun stuff.” He sighed. “I’m so goddamn sorry that I hurt you—”

“You didn’t mean to. And it hurt me a helluva lot worse when you walked out.”

“There was some stuff I needed to work out.” Maybe someday he’d tell Jessie about the bizarre dream he’d had about Luke.

“So you really picked me? Over the ranch?”

“No contest.”

Brandt and Jessie had started loading tack into the horse trailer when a pickup pulled up. Jessie tensed. The pickup looked exactly like Casper’s but Brandt knew the pickup belonged to his Uncle Carson.

He watched as all three of his McKay uncles climbed out of Carson’s truck. Carson and Cal were twins, not identical, but that wasn’t obvious at first glance. Charlie had the same look about him as his brothers did, but he was shorter, stockier. As far as McKay family dynamics, Charlie should’ve been last on the pecking order as the youngest son. But it’d always been Casper, the oldest of Jed McKay’s sons, at the bottom of the heap.

Strange, seeing his uncles here. They rarely ventured to this part of the ranch, and never to Brandt’s house. So they must’ve gotten wind of Casper’s ultimatum. Brandt’s pride appeared, reminding him he didn’t need his uncles’ charity.

He told pride to shut the **** up.

“Brandt.” Carson removed his glove, thrust out his hand and Brandt shook it, then he shook Calvin and Charlie’s hands in kind.

“I don’t gotta ask why you guys are here,” Brandt said. “But I do wanna know who called you.”

Carson shoved his hands in the front pocket of his Carhartt coat. “Actually Casper contacted us.”

“That surprises me.”

“Surprised the hell out of me too,” Charlie said. “Jesus. The man showed up at my place out of his mind.”

Brandt frowned. “Your place?”

“Yeah, guess he considers me the weakest link in the McKay chain of command.” Charlie shot his brothers a sideways glance. “But that’s always been Casper’s problem. We’ve never had the ‘me’ versus

‘them’ mentality.”

“But he has.”

Charlie nodded. “As soon as he showed up Vi called Carson and Cal.”

“Did he…” How could he ask his uncles if his dad had told them he’d attacked his father?

Cal clapped Brandt on the shoulder. “Son, we know what he’s like. Which is why we all needed to be there. Been brewing for a long goddamn time. It’s time we dealt with it.” He looked at Jessie with that trademark charming McKay smile. “Darlin’, if you wouldn’t mind givin’ us some time with Brandt—”

“Sorry. Brandt and I are a package deal now. Whatever you intend to discuss with him can be said in front of me. Rest assured, I’ll never repeat what I hear, but Brandt and I have had too many family things between us, keeping us apart for too long.”

Brandt had such a fierce sense of pride, such an overpowering feeling of love for this woman. He reached for Jessie’s hand. Right then he knew he’d never have to worry where he stood with her, because she’d always stand beside him.

Jessie said, “It’s too damn cold out here. Let’s head inside.”

After outerwear was removed, Brandt passed around beer. He sat in the easy chair with Jessie perched on the arm beside him. “So I guess I’d like to hear what my dad said to you before I tell you what really happened.”

“It ain’t pretty, Brandt. Just figured I oughta be up front with you about that,” Cal warned.

“Understood.”

“Casper said things’d gone to hell in a hand basket since Luke died. He’d entrusted you with the ranch and you’d make some piss poor decisions and he no longer trusted your judgment.”

Jessie threaded her fingers through his.

“When we pressed him for solid facts, Casper sputtered something about you convincing your brothers to buy more land, when the three of you couldn’t take care of what you already had.” Charlie grunted. “Course, that’s when we pointed out for the last two years, since you’ve taken over, your calves had a higher weight ratio than ever. Then I told him you boys buying that grazing land, even when you had to put yourselves in hock for it, was one of the smarter decisions anyone’s made.”

“Casper didn’t wanna hear that,” Carson pointed out. “He also didn’t wanna hear us tellin’ him that he hadn’t been pullin’ his weight for damn near a decade. And that if it hadn’t been for his sons bustin’ ass, we would’ve redistributed his parcel amongst the three of us and our sons.”

A feeling of pride and dread surfaced simultaneously. Brandt and his brothers had done everything to make their part of the McKay ranch as successful as the others. But with their dad overruling them, they’d lost some of what they’d gained. “What was his response?”

“Typical Casper blustering. Told us if we thought we could do a better job, then we could go...

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And what Dash Paulson found sort of shocked us.”

“What’s that?”

“We were under the impression that if just one of us wanted to sell our portion of the ranch, the other three owners would be forced to sell theirs too. Which is how Casper tried to control us, or at least got away with a lot more **** than we would’ve let him, had we known the real legalities of the matter.”

Carson pointed with his beer bottle. “It entails lots of legal gibberish that took us slow readin’

ranchers some time to understand, but the bottom line is we were wrong. Casper never had the power to force us to sell.”

Brandt held up his hand. “Wait a second. My dad threatened to sell his portion of the ranch?”

“Several times over the years. To be honest, he even went as far as to have it appraised about six months after Luke died.”

That son of a bitch. “Why?”

“So he could point out what idiots we were for keepin’ it, when we could have more money in our pockets than we could ever spend.”

“How much money we talkin’?”

The three brothers exchanged a look. Then Carson met his gaze. “On paper? Over eighty million dollars.”

“Holy ****ing ****.”

“So yeah, Casper thought he had the ace in the hole, thinkin’ if we wanted to buy out his portion of the ranch, it’d cost us over twenty million dollars each. Which none of us have in cash obviously.”

Brandt looked at Cal. “What is the legal discrepancy the lawyer found?”

“I’ll tell you, my daughter in law is one smart cookie. Ginger and her dad pored over the paperwork the last couple days and discovered a clause written into the original trust that’d been forgotten.”

“What’s that?”

“Majority rules,” Charlie said. “We’d intended to talk to Casper about it, but he’s been such a prick…” He looked at Jessie. “Sorry, Jess.”

“If anyone knows how much of a prick Casper can be, it’s Jessie.” Brandt kissed her hand. “I’m assuming he told you the choice he gave me?”

“Yeah. He said he wanted you off the payroll and to treat your departure the same as we had when Chase, Carter, Cam and Keely opted out of the land trust.”

Seemed his father really did want to leave him destitute.

“’Course, we said no.” Carson grinned. “Then we sprang the ‘majority rules’ clause on him. Which means we all have a say in what happens to his portion of the ranch, but only as it relates to naming his successors.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We can’t take over or sell his portion of the ranch, but we can give control to his descendents. So you, Tell and Dalton now call the shots. Your father has officially been retired from ranching. He’ll still receive a portion of the profits, but as far as the day-to-day operations and decision makin’? You and your brothers are in charge.”

Brandt couldn’t keep his jaw from dropping. “Are you serious?”

“Completely. But we should also point out in doin’ this we couldn’t single out your father. So me’n Cal and Charlie all officially retired too. The fourth generation of McKays are now one hundred percent in charge of the McKay cattle company and the ranch.”

“So…you knew this all when my dad came to see you?”

“No. We listened to him, told him we’d hafta wait until Monday to talk to the attorney. Then Tuesday we met up and told him what we’d decided.”

“How’d he take it?”

They exchanged another look and Cal spoke. “He didn’t say a lot, Brandt, bein’s that he was dealin’

with your mother leavin’ him.”

“We couldn’t tell him where Joan’s been stayin’,” Carson said. “Caro and Kimi and Vi have spent the last few days helpin’ her…hell, I don’t know what the four of ’em have been doin’.”

A minute or so of awkward silence hung in the air.

“Do you have any questions?” Carson asked.

“About a million. But they’ll keep. Wait, there is one, since I went off her grid for a few days.” He sent Jessie an apologetic look. “Did you talk to Tell or Dalton about any of this?”

Charlie shook his head. “As a matter of fact, we haven’t told our sons about it yet. Wanted to let you know first, since it changes everything for you and your brothers.”

That floored him. He’d gone from flipping through the classifieds to find work to finding out he had a bigger stake in the ranch than before.

“No doubt our boys will be on board, happy to be kickin’ the old men to the curb,” Carson said dryly.

“Little do they know we’re gonna be watchin’ them closer than ever.”

“Yeah, only thing that’ll change is we ain’t haulin’ our asses outta bed to do chores at the crack of nothin’ any more,” Cal said.

“A benefit of bein’ retired,” Charlie added. “Effective immediately.”

All three men laughed. Then they stood.

“We’d best get on our way so we can have this same conversation again. Luckily, all the boys will be together later this afternoon so we’ll only have to do it once.”

Boys. Brandt wondered if these guys would still be calling them boys when they were in their sixties.

“I’d like to be a part of the conversation, if you don’t mind. Me’n Tell and Dalton.”

“Thinkin’ of makin’ some changes already?” Carson asked.

“We’ll see, but it’ll nice to be involved in the decision makin’ process for once.”

“Agreed.”

Brandt slipped his arm around Jessie’s waist and pulled her close. “Anything else?”

“Just one.” Carson looked between Brandt and Jessie. “We’re all happy for you two.”

He waited for Carson to add something, like Luke would be happy for them, too, or advise them to start having McKay babies, but he turned away and spoke to Cal as they put on their winter wear.

“Did you hear what Liesl did the other day?”

“Yeah, Eliza told me.”

“Was she in on it?”

“No, but I swear them two girls are gonna be more trouble than all their male cousins combined.”

“Probably more than their uncles and fathers combined,” Charlie offered.

All three men groaned on their way out the door.

Brandt tugged Jessie on his lap and just held her, trying to process everything. And she rested her head into that spot on his body that’d been made for her.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?”

“How it’s sad your uncles’ wives are finally offering Joan support now, when she doesn’t need it. She needed it years ago.”

Brandt kissed her forehead. “It’s sweet of you to stand up for her, Jess, but my mom should’ve asked for support years ago. Plus, it just goes to show you that it’s never too late to change.”

“True. Do you think Joan just needs time away? That she and Casper will get back together down the road?”

“I don’t know. I plan on keeping my nose out of their marriage and I hope they extend us the same courtesy.”

Jessie wrapped her arms around his neck. “Speaking of marriage…when are we making it official?”

“Within the week, Jess. I’m not givin’ you time to change your mind. So pick a day.”

“You’re serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life. Let’s do it as soon as possible.”

“But what about—”

Brandt smothered her protest with a kiss. A kiss that heated rapidly, as kisses between them were prone to do. He kept kissing her, pouring everything of himself, everything he was feeling into her. He rested his forehead to hers. “I want to spend my life with you, Jessie. Every day. With you as my wife. I don’t want to wait because my feelings ain’t ever gonna change.”

“I feel the same.” Jessie laughed. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“How about Friday?”

“Oh. Wait. It’s not Friday the thirteenth, is it?”

He laughed. “Knowing our luck, it probably is. But I can’t help but think our luck is about to change.”