Cowgirls Don't Cry (Rough Riders 10) - Page 66/87

But after they’d returned to Jessie’s place, cleaned up and warmed up, the three of them snuggled on the couch to watch cartoon Christmas classics. They’d gorged themselves on sugar cookies, loaded with colored sprinkles, and warm, chocolatey milk. Then after Brandt tucked a sticky, sugary, exhausted Landon in bed, they’d curled up together on the couch, talking, laughing, making out like teenagers. Indulging in long, candy-flavored kisses, cold hands straying beneath wool sweaters, rubbing noses, creating static electricity from rubbing their fully clothed bodies together, drifting off in front of the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights.

It’d truly been one of the best days Jessie remembered.

“Jess?”

She glanced at Brandt. “Sorry. What?”

“Do we need peanut butter?”

“Yes. Jelly too. Here’s the list. I’m going to grab some tater tots.”

As they passed the junk food aisle, Landon said, “Cookie!”

“No way, lil’ buckaroo.”

“Yef!”

“Nope. You’ve eaten your weight in cookies this week. We’re all boarding the veggie train. Carrots.

Broccoli. Snow peas. Yum.”

She slowed in the frozen food section after passing two hundred kinds of frozen pizza. She’d just tossed a bag of tater tots and a bag of chicken nuggets into the cart when she heard, “Is that Landon?”

Jessie looked at the woman blocking her cart. Around forty, she had dyed red hair with two inches of brown root showing. She reeked of cigarettes. Her pale face was pinched as if she’d been sucking on a sour pickle.

This couldn’t be good.

The woman leaned to squint at Landon. “That is him.” She focused on Jessie. “Is the boy’s name still Landon or did you change it?”

“Excuse me?”

“Samantha did the right thing and finally gave that kid up for adoption. That girl had no business being a mother. When my son told me some of the shit she pulled…well, it’s a wonder she stayed out of jail as long as she did.”

“Who are you?” fell out of Jessie’s mouth.

“I’m Drexel’s mom.”

Who was Drexel? And who in their right mind would name their kid Drexel?

“Samantha moved in with Drex after her aunt kicked her out. She took off about six months later. I wasn’t surprised. Drex had gotten tired of her bullshit and lies anyway.” She jerked her chin toward Landon. “He’s a cute kid. Lucky to have the chance to overcome his bad start in life.”

Jessie frowned.

“I hope you had him tested for mental problems. If not, you should because Drex was pretty sure Samantha drank like a fish and smoked pot when she was pregnant.”

“I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.”

Those bloodshot eyes drew together. “Well excuse the f**k outta me for tryin’ to help you. I doubt you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to adopt him.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

The woman turned. Then her calculating gaze winged between Brandt and Jessie. “You’re the adoptive father? I was just telling your wife about some of the issues you might have with the kid.”

Brandt bit off, “Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re Landon’s guardians, not his adoptive parents.”

The clicking noise of the woman’s acrylic fingernails against the glass doors sounded like one of those killer insects about to sting. “So she really did it, huh? Dumped the kid off with his father’s family.”

Landon’s mother had told this freak she intended to contact the McKays?

“I don’t know who you are, lady, but you don’t know squat.”

“I know more than you do. When Samantha lived with Drex, she talked about turning the boy over to his father’s family so she could be free. Most the time she was so wasted she didn’t remember she even had a kid, let alone knowing how to take care of him. Get used to him being around permanently, because she won’t want him back.”

“That’s enough.” Brandt didn’t look away from the woman when he spoke to Jessie. “Jess. Go.”

A million thoughts spun in her head as she reached the checkout line. Obviously the woman knew Landon. But not as well as she knew Landon’s mother. How much of what she’d said was true? Had Samantha just been biding her time? Brandt hadn’t said anything about his jail visit with Samantha, but Jessie knew the visit had upset him. Had Samantha already told Brandt she didn’t intend to take Landon back?

It’d been easy to forget these fears when everything had been going along so smoothly. She cared about Landon, but she had no desire to be the kid’s mother. Because she never really would be his mother.

No matter what she did for him, he’d always be affected by his mother abandoning him. He’d always have that kernel of hope that someday his biological mother would come to her senses and connect with him.

Jessie could spend her life loving him and it wouldn’t be enough. And it had nothing to do with him being a McKay.

“Miss? You have to unload the cart yourself,” the checker said to her.

“I’ll do it,” Brandt said from behind her. When he set his hands on her shoulders, she shrugged him off.

Brandt was smart enough to not push the issue as they drove back to her house. He readied Landon for bed and for once Landon didn’t insist Jessie read him a bedtime story.

Jessie was grateful for the busy work of putting away groceries. Once she had that done, she decided she’d scour the kitchen and the bathroom. If that didn’t allow her brain to shut off, she’d go into the barn and find some project to keep her energy and thoughts focused elsewhere.

Brandt came into the kitchen. “We need to talk about what happened at the grocery store.”

“No, we don’t.” She squirted the cleaning solution on the countertop and scrubbed furiously, her rubber gloves squeaking with each stroke.

“Jess—”

She spun around and aimed the spray bottle at him. “Don’t push me. Leave me alone.”

Brandt snatched the plastic bottle out of her hand. “No. Now give me the goddamn gloves and sit on the couch so we can talk about this like rational adults because we’re not gonna shove this under the rug.”

“You don’t get to order me around.”

“Fine.” He exhaled slowly. “Jessie, will you sit on the couch with me so we can hash this out?”