Cowgirls Don't Cry (Rough Riders 10) - Page 57/87

Regardless of what her mom claimed, this was a fix up. Although she and Brandt were exclusive while they were living together, this thing, whatever it was, was temporary.

You don’t really believe that. There’s more going on between you and Brandt than just hot sex. This thing could be the start of something big.

But her cynical side reminded her that there already was something very big between her and Brandt, something insurmountable: Landon’s future.

“Jessie?” her mother prompted. “I see the wheels turning. What’s going on?”

“Besides the fact I’m currently helping my former brother-in-law take care of my dead husband’s secret love child from a jailbait jailbird? Oh, and just to make it even more interesting, I’m now sleeping with said brother in law.”

After her mom picked her jaw up off the floor, she pointed to a dining room chair. “Sit and start talking. I’ll get more beer.”

Jessie knew her mother intended to grill her when she ditched her apron, embroidered with a big “L”

for Lisa. Removal of the apron indicated the shift in parental roles from cookie and comfort giver to interrogator. She sipped her beer and waited for the barrage of questions.

It didn’t take long.

“Did you end up in this situation with Brandt out of guilt?” Her mother raised her hand when Jessie began to object. “I know you’re in the situation with Landon out of some obligation you feel to Luke.”

Jessie ran her thumb along the edge of the sandstone coaster as she tried to figure out a way to explain it, when half the time she didn’t understand it herself. “Being in such close quarters with Brandt felt different from the start. That everyday familiarity between us built pretty damn fast and in some ways, it was more intimate than sex. I missed that physical closeness, and since we were already acting like a married couple, I told him I wanted all of the benefits of being married.”

“So you approached him?” her mother asked.

“Yes.” Jessie swallowed a mouthful of beer. “Hard to believe, huh?”

“I’m happy you did. At least you’re getting something you want out of this lousy situation. How you’re able to handle…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if one of Billy’s floozies would’ve shown up with a kid he’d fathered.”

Her mom hadn’t spoken of Billy’s infidelities, but Jessie knew it’d been another reason she’d ended the marriage. Before she could answer, her mother laughed.

“See, I say that, but I probably would’ve done the exact same thing you did, Jessie.”

“What? Caved in?”

“No.” She leaned back in her chair. “In some ways hearing about Landon’s mother reminded me…well, kinda like déjà vu.”

“How so?”

“One day when you were about sixteen months, I was at my wit’s end, with you, with my job, and this neighbor lady volunteered to take care of you for a couple of hours while I got control. At first I thought it was weird, but she told me someone helped her out when she was a young mother and she was just returning the favor. Her kindness over the next few months really changed a lot for me. For us.”

Jessie was floored. “How come I never knew any of this?”

“Honestly? Because I’d forgotten about it. So many other things happened over the years. It came back to me when you said you were helping out with Luke’s kid. So no, you’re not a doormat, Jessie. No matter what Luke led you to believe.”

She killed her beer. “Luke and I were headed for a divorce anyway.”

“I know.”

“I loved him. I’da done anything, let him get away with anything, been anyone he wanted me to be, just to keep him.”

“I know that too, sweetie.”

She held her fingers to her eyes to stem the tears. “God, Mom. I’ve had time to think, a lot, too much time probably, but one of the hardest parts of losing Luke was figuring out I’d lost myself too. I let him define me. And when he wasn’t around to tell me who to be, I didn’t know who the hell I was.”

Silence fell and Jessie welcomed it.

Her mother cleared her throat. “And what about Brandt McKay? Are you letting him define you?”

Jessie shook her head. “Which might seem at odds with agreeing to help him take care of Landon. I’m not doing it for Brandt. I’m not even doing it for Luke. I’m doing it for that little boy, no matter if Landon ever knows it, no matter how hard it is. He needs me. I’ve already got a lot of regrets where Luke is concerned and I won’t let ignoring this helpless kid be another one.”

“Will you be able to let Landon go when the time comes?”

I don’t know.

The door in the living room opened and Lexie started barking. Jessie grabbed her collar and issued a terse, “Stay.”

“Lisa?”

“In the kitchen with Jessie, Roger.”

Roger came through the door in stocking feet. Before he acknowledged Jessie, he gave her mother a kiss on the lips. More than a peck, less than dueling tongues, but a kiss filled with warmth and affection.

“Hey, you.” Her mom smiled up at him, happiness shining in her smile and her eyes. Jessie fought those stupid tears again because if anyone deserved a man who adored her, it was her mother.

Roger kissed her one more time. “Hey yourself.” Then he remembered Jessie was in the room. He adjusted his glasses. “Jessie. Nice to see you. I hope the roads were all right?”

“They were fine.”

Roger crouched down to pet Lexie, giving Jessie an opportunity to study him. He definitely looked like an accounting teacher with his white button up shirt, plaid cardigan, and khaki pants. Beneath his thick glasses were kind brown eyes, which were another indication of his gentle demeanor.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” her mother asked him.

“No, thanks. I’ll let you get back to girl talk.”

Jessie stood. “Actually, I think I’ll head to bed.”

“I didn’t mean to chase you off, Jessie,” Roger said.

“You didn’t.” She swiped her mother’s half-full bottle of beer. “Besides, I think Mom would like that glass of wine.”

“I put your stuff in your usual room.”

“Thanks. Goodnight.”

“See you in the morning, sweetie.”

Jessie wandered into the bedroom. The first time she’d come to her mother’s home after Luke had died, she’d taken one look at the twin bed—a blatant reminder of her single status—and she’d slid to the floor, weeping.