“I just don’t want you to be hurt.”
Was it so hard to believe Tess could like him for himself? “When you’ve womaned up about your love life, then you can lecture me on mine.”
She frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Matt.”
Her eyes narrowed and her gaze darted to the door. “Shut up. I told you that in a moment of weakness.”
He didn’t push her. “Do you need to grab any clothes from the room before we go to bed?”
She clambered to her feet. “Yeah.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I hope you’re right about Tess.”
So did Ed.
He returned to the kitchen where Amy waited, hands still clasped around her tea, which hadn’t been drunk. “Lee’s long gone,” Ed said.
“I can’t help worrying.”
“Brandon and his mates can handle anything.” Ed had no clue if it was true, but it sounded good.
She nodded.
Ed hugged her, glad Brandon had left the army, and she wouldn’t have this constant fear when he was away. “Drink your tea.” Though he loved Amy like a sister, part of him was jealous that she’d been enough to bring Brandon home, and his family hadn’t been. Pushing aside the old feelings, he wandered over to the door and unlocked it, opening it a crack to see outside. Dobby and Heath stood on the verandah of the shearers’ quarters with bottles of beer. Ed frowned and opened the door wider, stepping out. Sam handed Brandon a beer, and they clinked bottles.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Brandon was drinking with his mates, while Amy sat inside, worrying. Ed clenched his hands. “Brandon’s fine,” he called to Amy. “They’re by the shearers’ quarters. I’m going to have a word.”
Amy relaxed and sipped her tea. “Thanks, Ed.”
Ed barely heard her as he strode across the hard ground, old resentments simmering to the surface, his gaze on his older brother. It was just like him not to let his loved ones know he was fine. When he got close enough, he called, “I guess you didn’t find anything.”
Brandon turned and smiled. “No, everything’s fine.”
“So you’re going to stand here, having a beer with your mates, while your wife is inside worried out of her mind?” Ed knew his brother was inconsiderate, but this was next level. “I thought you cared for Amy, but you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself, do you?”
Brandon swore and stepped towards the house.
Ed slapped a hand against Brandon’s chest. “Don’t worry, I’ve told her you’re fine. You can continue getting pissed with your mates.” He clenched his hand, resisting the sudden urge to punch his brother. Where had all this fury come from? He’d thought he’d dealt with Brandon’s abandonment years ago. His whole body vibrated, and he forced himself to stride away, lest he do something he’d regret.
“Ed, wait.”
Ed kept walking, away from the sheds, away from the house. The dark called to him.
Footsteps behind him, and then Brandon placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him up short. Ed whirled to him. “Fuck off, Bran.”
Brandon stepped back, hands raised, his face just visible in the light. “What’s your problem?”
Disbelief made Ed snort. “You’re such a dick.”
“I was going to the house to tell Amy after I took the beer.”
“Yeah, sure you were.” Ed turned to go.
“If you’ve got a problem with me, Ed, just spit it out.” Annoyance tinged Brandon’s tone now.
Slowly, Ed turned back to him, every childhood fear and misery battering to get out. “Where do I start?” Ed asked. “When you abandoned your family without a single word? How you didn’t give a shit about Mum or Dad, but returned the moment you could get something? How you slotted back in here, taking over the farm as if it was your right, even though you didn’t care about us enough to stay in touch?” Tears wet his eyes, and he blinked to get rid of them. He wasn’t giving his brother that satisfaction. “When Charlie died, we needed you, Bran. Mum was out of her mind with grief, Dad rarely came in from the farm before we went to bed, and Georgie was so scared.” His voice broke. “I wrote to you, Bran, begging you to come home. Did you even get the letter?”
