She said, “Where’s Landon?” to Tell.
“There.” He pointed to a dirt mound. Landon sat in the midst of a pile of small shovels and Tonka trucks of every size and shape.
“Are those new?”
“Yeah, me’n Dalton were at the feed store so we got some boy toys for Landon.”
That was so cute, and heartening, they were taking an interest in their nephew.
“Besides, we all loved playin’ in the dirt. He’s a McKay. Figured he would too.”
“Yes, the true test of a McKay male is seeing how dirty he can get his damn clothes on a daily basis.”
Funny how she’d forgotten how filthy Luke’s clothes were after he finished up on the ranch. Funny how she’d forgotten how much of her life had been devoted to putting Luke’s needs first. Still, she couldn’t help but smile at the dirt-covered urchin lost in muddy playtime. “Landon looks like he’s having a ball.”
“He is now. But he was damn cranky when he woke up. I think he was missin’ you, Jess.”
She gave Tell a droll look. “Such a suck up. I already said you could have some cake.”
He laughed. “You’re just in time because we were about to play football. And I’m draftin’ you to my team because I don’t think Landon is gonna be much help in the tackling department.”
“You’re playing tackle football?”
“Flag football is for pussies.” Tell bumped her with his hip. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“Fun. Right. It’s all fun and games until someone breaks an arm or gets a concussion.”
But Tell wasn’t listening to her. He waved to Dalton and Brandt as they ambled closer. “Guess who’s on my team, suckas?”
Dalton loomed over her. “If you think we’re goin’ easy on you since you’re a girl, Jessie—”
“You’d be exactly right,” Brandt said. “Because she is not playin’ football with us.”
What? Not that Jessie had a burning desire to chase around a pigskin, but who was Brandt to decide what she could and couldn’t do?
Tell said, “Oh shit. Now you did it, bro.”
Jessie got in Brandt’s face. “Don’t make decisions for me. Don’t made assumptions about me. And you sure as hell better never speak for me, Brandt McKay. Understood?”
Everyone froze.
Brandt said, “Understood.”
“Good.” Jessie placed her hands on Brandt’s chest and playfully shoved him. “You are goin’ down, buddy. Me’n Tell are gonna whup your sorry butts.”
He smiled. “Bring it. No cryin’ for mercy when I’ve got you pinned down.”
When Brandt grinned at her like that? Sexy and mischievous? Her heart went into free fall.
Tell tugged on her arm. “Come on, killer, let’s devise a strategy.”
Unfortunately Tell’s strategy consisted of handing Jessie the ball damn near every time, while he tried to tackle both his brothers at the same time. Which never worked. Which meant Jessie spent a lot of time hitting the ground. She did score one touchdown, but she suspected they’d let her score out of pity.
As she waited for the next play, she realized it’d been ages since she’d goofed around outside with no real purpose. Likewise, Brandt, Tell and Dalton worked in the great outdoors every day, no matter what the weather did, so they tended to stay indoors when they finished for the day.
Maybe the sunshine and crisp air had brought out her melancholy. But it bolstered her spirits to see these three banding together outside of the hours they spent working on the ranch. It hadn’t always been that way, due to Casper’s tendency to pit his sons against each other, so at least one good thing had come out of Luke’s death.
“Stop chasin’ butterflies, Jess, and pay attention,” Tell shouted right before he threw her the ball.
She yelled, “Crap!” but somehow managed to catch the football. Then she took off.
Behind her came a loud oof as her teammate tackled one of his brothers, but she didn’t stop to see which one, because guaranteed, the other one was chasing her.
She’d almost reached the goal line—a stick jammed in a dirt pile—when she was brought down.
Hard. Hitting the ground on her side with a bone-jarring thud knocked the wind right out of her.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.
“Jess? God, I’m sorry.” Brandt rolled her on her back. “Are you okay?”
No air had entered her lungs yet. Her eyelids seemed glued shut.
“Fuck.” Gentle hands swept the hair from her face. “Come on, sweetheart. Wake up.”
Footsteps stopped by her head.
“Jesus, Brandt. How f**king hard did you hit her?”
“I—I didn’t think it was that hard.”
“Did you knock her unconscious?” Dalton asked.
“I don’t know. She hasn’t moved.”
Tell said, “Maybe you oughta give her mouth-to-mouth or something.”
Jessie gasped and her eyes flew open.
Brandt was in her face, blocking her view of anything but him. Panic darkened his eyes. Distress lined his forehead. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“You just knocked the wind out of me.”
“Just?” he repeated. “Where else are you hurt?”
“Nowhere.”
He didn’t believe her. He unzipped her coat and curled his hands around her ribs beneath her br**sts.
“What about here? Does this hurt?”
She shook her head. She really wasn’t hurt, but having Brandt so concerned about her and putting those rough hands of his all over her? Well, there was the upside to getting tackled.
His palms slowly slid down her belly. “Here?”
Again, she shook her head.
His big hands slid further down to circle her hips. “Feel like anything is bruised or out of joint?”
“Not really.”
“Hey, bro, why don’t you just cut the shit and volunteer to kiss her all over and make it better,”
Dalton taunted, adding kissing noises.
Tell smacked him in the arm. “Shut it, ass**le.”
Her gaze winged between Dalton and Tell, kneeling beside Brandt. “You saw me pass the goal line, right? That counted as a touchdown.”
“You didn’t pass the goal line,” Dalton scoffed. “See? You dropped the football well short of the goal.”
They all turned and looked at where Dalton was pointing, which was why they didn’t see Landon barreling toward them until he landed on Brandt’s back with a happy shriek.