Braydon (31 page)

Resting his hands on the steering wheel, he turned his head toward her. “This isn’t your fault. And if you try to make it your fault, it won’t help. This is a screwed-up situation, at least from the outside looking in. But I’m gonna tell you . . . if you want to work this out with Braydon, you’re gonna have to help them work through this. Whatever happened to split things up between the three of you is probably for the best. Unfortunately, things get complicated that way. Trust me, I know.”

Sawyer glanced back out the window, refusing to think about his own issues where that was concerned. “Brendon’s a big boy. He’s gonna have to accept responsibility for his own actions. They’ve always had a strong bond between them, and I hate to see him like this, but I do think it’ll work out.”

Jessie nodded her head, but she didn’t say anything. Sawyer figured that was for the best anyway. He’d stuck his nose where it didn’t belong, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t speak up. That was his own personal demon.

“Thanks for the ride home,” she whispered as she reached for the door handle.

“Catch ya later,” he replied.

He watched to ensure she made it into her house safely. When the front door closed behind her, Sawyer backed out of the driveway.

Deciding that the night had been blown to shit already, he opted to call it a night. In the mood he was in, it was safe to say that Brendon wouldn’t be the only one getting himself into trouble tonight.

And that was the last thing they needed.

chapter
NINETEEN

“W
hat are you doing here?” Kylie asked the moment Jessie stepped through the door of their little office.

Glancing around, confused about who Kylie was talking to, Jessie realized she was the only one there, which meant her sister was talking to her.

“I, uh, work here.”

“Is Brendon out of the hospital?” Kylie asked, coming directly toward her.

“Yes, he’s out.” Braydon had called her sometime during the wee hours of the morning to let her know that he was taking Brendon home and staying with him. He had then let her go, insisting that she go back to sleep.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Kylie questioned, studying her.

“Of course,” she lied. In fact, she hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. After Sawyer dropped her off, Jessie had made a cup of hot tea, hoping that would do the trick. Then, for the next few hours, she had tossed and turned, trying her best to make sense of what Sawyer had said.

He hadn’t helped, that much she knew for sure. It would’ve been so easy for Jessie to have accepted responsibility for Brendon’s lack of common sense with his binge drinking, but she hadn’t been able to do so.

She hadn’t been able to blame anyone. Not Braydon. Not Brendon. And not even Cheyenne, who Brendon was clearly hung up on.

This happened, and although Brendon was truly at fault for his own actions, she could very well see why he had done it. Drowning sorrows in alcohol was something she’d done plenty of times in her adult life. Never quite to the extent he went to, but she’d indulged a few times, sure. Not that it excused his drinking and driving.

“You can take the day off if you’d like,” Kylie told her now, reaching out and touching her shoulder.

“That’s the last thing I need, thank you very much. I’d much rather find something constructive to do with my time.”

“Well, if that’s the case, don’t sit down.”

Jessie cocked an eyebrow at her sister.

“I need to go check out a prospective job.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Have you seen that old Victorian house that you pass on the way to town? Sits on like twenty acres, I think. Right before you take a left toward Main.”

Jessie thought about that for a moment. “The ugly blue one?”

“Yep. I fully intend to change that, by the way.” Kylie’s smile widened just as it did anytime she took on a new client.

“Finally got another house in town, huh?” Jessie asked as she turned and followed her sister toward the door.

“Yeah. Exciting, huh?”

After Kylie locked up, they both climbed into Kylie’s truck—technically Gage’s truck.

“Do I know who the client is?” Jessie asked as she buckled her seat belt.

The engine roared to life and Kylie was pulling through the parking lot before she answered.

“Cheyenne Montgomery.”

Jessie jerked her head toward her sister. “Did I just hear you right? Cheyenne Montgomery is moving to Coyote Ridge?”

“Looks like it,” Kylie said.

“Does Brendon know?”

Kylie glanced over, her eyebrows furrowed. “Probably not.”

Exactly. “And you’re okay with her moving here?”

“What do you mean ‘you’re okay’? I didn’t realize it had anything to do with me,” Kylie spat.

“Isn’t she like a mystery friend of Travis’s? Have you never wondered just what happened between the two of them?”

Okay, so Jessie shouldn’t have phrased the question that way. It made it sound as though she questioned Travis’s love for Kylie. That wasn’t the case. Truly. But it was weird that Travis happened to be such good friends with this woman and she just showed up out of the blue once and then all of a sudden she was around at all the Walker family functions.

“Jealous much?” Kylie bit out.

“No, I’m not.” She didn’t care if Cheyenne moved to Coyote Ridge. Granted, she wasn’t sure that Brendon was going to be ecstatic about the idea, but what did she care? Really.

“First of all, Cheyenne is twenty-four years old, Jess.”

Twenty-four? Really?

“Okay, so how does Travis know her?” Jessie asked curiously. Travis was thirty-six years old, Jessie knew that much. What in the world could they possibly have in common?

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got plenty of time,” Jessie replied.

“It was several years ago. Cheyenne was just eighteen years old when they met. Big dreams, that girl. She’s from West Texas, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t,” Jessie answered quickly, not sure what that had to do with anything.

“Anyway, Travis knows a lot of people.”

“I know.” It was a little creepy how many people that man knew. For a small-town country boy, he did have some pretty impressive friends.

“Anyway, Cheyenne was just starting out. She was playing in small bars. She’s good. I mean really good.”

“I’ve heard her sing, Ky. I know how good she is.”

“You’d like her if you ever got to know her.”

Jessie didn’t bother to tell Kylie that she hadn’t had a chance to really even talk to Cheyenne. The few times the woman was around, Jessie was generally cast aside.

“She was playing in a bar close to here and Travis happened to be there that night. He was with one of his buddies, a music producer. They went to school together. The guy moved away after they graduated, but he and Travis apparently kept in touch, hung out when the guy came back to town to see his family, which apparently was quite often. Anyway. The guy was looking for talent, so Travis met his buddy at the bar, they listened to her sing.”

“He discovered her?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. Sure, he heard her sing, but that’s not exactly how they were introduced.”

Confused, Jessie stared at her sister.

Kylie grinned wide and proud. “Bar fight.”

Jessie laughed. Now that made more sense.

“A fight broke out; Travis was at the right place at the right time. Some drunk guy hadn’t been too happy that Cheyenne wasn’t paying him enough attention, so he tried to start shit. Travis ended it. That’s all she wrote.”

Jessie laughed. “So, what? Cheyenne was forever indebted to him because he beat some drunk guy’s ass protecting her honor? Or because he actually put her on the map?”

Kylie laughed, turning down a dirt road that led to the old Victorian that Cheyenne had apparently bought.

“Kind of, but not really. Travis doesn’t see things like that. They started talking. Travis introduced her to his producer buddy. The rest is history.”

“She was an overnight sensation?”

“Not hardly,” Kylie told her. “She’s worked her ass off to get where she is. You’d like her, Jess. You really should get to know her.”

Maybe Kylie was onto something there. It wasn’t that she had anything against the woman. She knew if they’d actually been introduced, she probably would like her. But for some reason, Jessie had always been tossed to the shadows when Cheyenne was around.

That got her thinking, and Jessie suddenly wondered whether she was laying blame where there shouldn’t be any. It wasn’t that people had purposely pushed her away. That’s just what she did. She sought solace in silence whenever she was cast into a situation she wasn’t comfortable with. And truth was, she wasn’t comfortable around Cheyenne.

Thanks to old habits dying hard, Jessie had been jealous of Cheyenne in the beginning, back when she feared the twins were going to toss her to the side. After all, from everything she knew about the twins at the time, Braydon did what Brendon wanted.

Sighing, Jessie forced herself out of the truck. Grabbing her tablet, she hurried after her sister. Her job was to take notes, which meant she needed to be right there with Kylie or she was going to miss something.

There was a time and place for her contemplative thoughts. Thank God now was not the time and this certainly wasn’t the place.

“YOU REALLY DON’T
have to babysit me,” Brendon growled as Braydon returned to the kitchen.

Braydon had woken up like normal, showered, shaved, and made a pot of coffee. He had also called Jared to let him know that he was going to be in late that morning. His cousin had inquired as to Brendon’s status, and after a short explanation, Braydon had hung up the phone.

It wasn’t that he was babysitting his brother . . . Okay, he was. He had somehow relegated himself to being Brendon’s babysitter. But that was Brendon’s fault. After this past week, Braydon was actually worried to leave him alone. At first he’d just been worried because Brendon had been gone so much. But then when he did turn his back, Brendon went and got himself hospitalized.

“Bray, I’m gonna be fine,” Brendon said, pulling Braydon’s attention to him.

“I fucking know that,” he replied. Yes, he was frustrated. He was pissed off at Brendon and himself, he was angry at the situation, and above all else, he wanted to throttle his brother for drinking and driving. Un-fucking-acceptable.

“I’m going to Mom and Dad’s today,” Brendon told him as he took his empty plate to the sink to rinse it.

“Good,” Braydon told him. “You need to.”

Brendon turned toward him and rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna do anything stupid.”

“You’ve said that before,” Braydon countered. “Look where that got you.”

“Fuck off,” Brendon said without heat. “I get it. I fucked up.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Braydon exclaimed, his anger reaching the boiling point. “You keep saying that. Do you think it makes things better? That it excuses your actions? Do you think we can look the other way because you said you fucked up? You obviously haven’t learned from your mistakes, Bren. You’re still fucking up.”

Okay, so he probably shouldn’t have laid into Brendon like that, but he couldn’t help it. His twin had scared the ever-loving shit out of him last night. He could’ve died.

But what Braydon was having such a hard time with was the fact that he hadn’t known. As close as he and Brendon were, as strong as that mysterious twin thing was, he should’ve known. He should’ve been able to tell that Brendon needed him.

He hadn’t known.

Was that because he was too distracted by Jessie?

God, he missed her.

Last night, when he brought Brendon home, he had been tempted to go back to her place, to crawl into bed beside her and hold her. He had needed her.

But Brendon had needed him more. So Braydon had crawled into his own bed by himself, scared to sleep for fear that Brendon would need him during the night. And yes, the lack of sleep had left him in a piss-poor mood.

“If you want, I’ll go to work with you,” Brendon told him now.

“What the fuck would I want that for?” Braydon asked, startled by the comment. He really didn’t want to be Brendon’s babysitter. “And anyway, the doctor said you’re dehydrated. Last thing you need to do today is be out in the heat.”

“You know as well as I do that I’m not skipping out on work, Bray.”

“No, but you can take half a day to worry about yourself. Go see Mom and Dad and then you can go to work.”

Brendon rolled his eyes again. “This is gonna get old real quick, bro.”

Braydon didn’t say anything. He agreed wholeheartedly. Brendon was thirty years old; he didn’t need a keeper. He needed to grow up was what he needed to do. But Braydon couldn’t very well tell him that, now could he?