Rough Stock (32 page)

Court, Willow, and Rowan gave off the facade of a young, happy family, and to that end—protecting Rowan’s reputation—Seth made no bones about it.

“You should come to dinner,” Walker said to Mac and Rowan.

“We can’t,” said Emma in a clipped tone. “We have to be at Troy’s parents’.”

Rowan bit her lip, and her eyes darted back and forth between the two heads of the families, trying to think of her own excuse. “We…well, Dad’s still recovering. And we should get home so he can rest and—”

But Mac interrupted her. “No,” he said. “I’m all right. We should go.”

Rowan opened her mouth again, about to protest.

“We’re family,” Walker insisted, and Mac Archer smiled, looking relieved to hear it.

“We are,” he said, possibly a bit too loudly. But it
was
crowded in the vestibule.

Walker held the door so everyone could pass through, then he let it fall on Bessie Hamilton, who was practically running to stay in step with them. She blanched at the evil eye Walker gave her just before the heavy double doors clicked shut.

At Snake River, Dakota saddled up Caramel, and Court swooped Willow onto the pony’s back. Mac declared it a fine little pony indeed as Dakota led her at a steady pace. Seth couldn’t help but hover nearby, but at a respectful distance, stacking hay bales over and over just to be closer to the group. He knew he should leave, saddle up Choctaw and get the hell out of there for a while, put as much space between himself and Snake River as he could. He didn’t want to see Rowan here, surrounded by the others. He wanted her alone, at the Archer place, where even if they could no longer touch each other, he could talk to her, spend some time with her.

And Willow, too. At the Archer farm he could show her how to use a reata, how to tie a quick-release knot, the easiest way to mend a sagging fence line. Here he’d be stepping on Court’s toes, horning in on their Father/Daughter time. He loved to see her on the pony, though, loved to see her huge grin and hear her tinkling laugh.

She looked up then, almost as though his own thoughts had called out to her.

“Uncle Seth!” Willow shouted. “Uncle Seth, look! I’m riding!”

Seth waved to her and smiled. His eyes darted to Rowan, though, who quickly looked away, picking at her sweater.

“Come here! Watch!” the little girl demanded.

He wanted to—
so, so much
—but he instead he shook his head. “I can’t, honey. I have to work.”

She frowned. “But…it’s Easter!”

Seth returned the disappointed look. “I know, honey. I’m sorry. Have fun, though! I’m proud of you!” He stacked the last bale, turned, and quickly walked away, putting himself out of their line of sight. It felt strange going to his room in the middle of the day, so he ducked into the kitchen through the side door and found Sofia and Dakota there, working on dinner for everyone.

Without a word, Seth rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands in the sink then picked up a towel.

Dakota opened her mouth, but Seth saw Sofia shake her head sharply at her daughter. He was grateful for the invisibility of the kitchen, just listening to them chatter away about how many empanadas could fit on a rack as Seth lost himself in the familiar pinching of dough for the repulgue. It was similar to braiding a reata, and he’d done both many times.

Dinnertime came while he was still lost in thought, and Seth might have tried to slip back out the side door, but Sofia shoved a platter into his hands and shooed him into the large formal dining room. Everyone was already gathered, and it seemed impossible to sneak away.

At the table, things were a bit stiff between the adults. Gabe was (rightfully) still sore about the awful truth regarding his father’s death. Austin and Walker had little to say to each other, and though Dakota sat with her mom and brother across the table, she may as well have plunked her ass right down between the twins for all the tension in the air. Seth caught Walker looking at her more than once from across the room. Curiously, though, Austin seemed to pay her no mind at all. He seemed more interested in getting to know his little niece.

It was Willow who broke up most of the tension, asking questions about the empanadas, why some had meat and others had fruit and how yucky it was to get them confused after you’d already taken a bite of the other kind. She was a bright spot, sweeping away the clouds that had descended on all of them with the last winter storm and had never gone away afterward.

She was a Barlow, through and through, with her chestnut-dark hair, a shade deeper than Rowan’s, and her dimpled smile that looked just like Court’s. Seth was glad to have another member of the family, but he ached as he looked at her with longing of his own. She even transfixed Walker, who’d quite possibly forgotten how to smile somewhere around his sixteenth birthday and had just now remembered how it was done.

Mr. Archer said little. The old man was as reticent as Walker, who sat across from him. He thanked Sofia for the food, though, profusely, and seemed to prefer conversing with the older woman rather than anyone else at the table. Despite Sawyer and Willow’s silliness, there was still a swirling undercurrent of tension in the room.

Rowan was entirely silent and barely eating to boot. She wouldn’t so much as glance his way, which made Seth’s gut twist and had him eating less of Sofia’s Easter dinner, as well.

He sighed inwardly and tried to enjoy the moment for what it was, though.

This
family, cracked and disconnected as it was, was still better than none at all.

“We should go,” Rowan said finally, the only thing she’d said all throughout dinner.

Mr. Archer, finished with his own meal, thanked Sofia again, and Walker for the invitation, and the Archers headed out the front door to Rowan’s car. Everyone followed to send Willow off, everyone except Seth, who sat alone in the dining room. He gazed at his untouched plate until he finally picked it up and carried it into the kitchen. He practically threw it into the sink. He didn’t bother to stay and help clean up. He dashed out the back door instead.

As he walked away, it became harder and harder to put one foot in front of the other. He wanted to go back, go back and pull Rowan into his arms, go back and kiss her until that look of utter defeat and disappointment was replaced with that rare smile that warmed his heart whenever he caught a glimpse of it.

His steps slowed and goddamn it all to hell he nearly turned around. These lonely nights, these meaningless days, frankly, they
terrified
him. A whole lifetime of them? And that’s what it would be, a lifetime, because there was no one for Seth Barlow but that fiery woman who loved this land just as much as he did. No one else was everything he needed and everything he secretly wished for. The thought of a lifetime without Rowan made Seth’s blood run cold.

Just once, he wanted to do the wrong thing, have something,
someone
, for himself.

His footsteps slowed until he stopped entirely.

Dad had sacrificed everything and at the end, when it hadn’t been enough, he’d ridden out into a storm to give them the very last thing he had left—
his life
. It was cold now, without Rowan and Willow, and it would just keep getting colder, until Seth was frozen, too, right into this very spot.

He had almost made it to the barn before Court caught his arm and turned him. “Seth, wait. I—”

Seth’s fist connected with Court’s jaw, sending the younger man flying. “
She’s not yours!
” Seth bellowed. “She’ll never be yours, because she’s mine. Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you get what I’m telling you?
Rowan is mine.
And you do whatever it is you need to do to get over that. Because I’m not letting her go. I’m not sitting across the table from her for the rest of my life wishing for what could’ve been.
It’s going to be
. She and I are
going to be together
.
So, you get your shit together!
I don’t care what you have to do, or who you have to talk to, or what needs to happen, but you
get
it together, and you
keep
it together! Whatever it takes, but Rowan is mine! She’s mine, and that’s all there is to it.”

Court stared up at him, open mouthed, dumbfounded. Even Seth was surprised at the ferocity of his own words, his own feelings. He never intended for this happen. It had just boiled up, exploded somehow. But there it was, he’d said it. And he’d meant it. There was no going back now, not that Seth ever would. A fire burned inside him hotter than any he’d ever dreamed possible, and there was no putting it out.

“I will never, ever take your daughter away,” he amended. “She’s your blood, and I won’t do that. But Rowan…” He swallowed hard and shook his head. “Rowan doesn’t need you. She needs
me
. She wants
me
, Court. And I want her. I have never—
ever
—asked
any
of you for a God damn thing, not in my entire life. And I’m not doing it now. I’m taking it. I’m taking
her.
And I swear to God if you try to stop me, I’ll put you right back down in the dirt. I’ll stand here, and I’ll keep doing it, keep putting you down until you give up. Because
I
will never give up, Court. I will never give up on Rowan the way you did.”

Court pushed himself off the ground, and Seth tensed to deliver another blow. Not for any real reason other than he was so furious at Court, at life, at the hand he’d been dealt. His own bad decisions had put him here. He knew it, but he was still raw about it. As his hands flexed into fists, Court raised his own in surrender.

“I get it,” Court said quietly.

Seth snorted derisively.

“I do,” his younger brother insisted. “I do. I’ve seen it. In both of you. The two of you are in so much pain, pain that I caused. I came to tell you she needs you more than she needs me. I can’t do it, either, Seth. I can’t watch the two of you struggling so hard to push each other away for my sake. You need each other. You deserve each other. Though…I appreciate not being cut out of my daughter’s life.”

He said it with no hint of sarcasm, no sign of anger or contempt. All Seth heard was reason and regret. He blinked at Court, unable to quite believe what he was hearing. It seemed impossible that Court would give up anything willingly for somebody else. And yet here he was, backing down from a fight so that Seth could have the one thing he wanted most in the world. It was a small victory, only the first, Seth knew.

The biggest battle was still to come.

“It’ll…it’ll take the rest of my life to get her back,” he groaned. “I broke her heart into a million pieces. And I don’t know how I’m going to fix it, since she won’t see me. She won’t even look at me. She won’t even let me help her with her ranch when she so clearly needs it.”

Court actually smiled. “I’ve got an idea about that,” he said.

“About what?” Seth asked. “About how I can get her back? Or how I can save her place?”

“Yep,” replied Court, adjusting his hat.

‡

R
owan’s foot let
off the gas the moment Dad said, “Slow down there, lead foot. None of them are chasing us.” She glanced at him guiltily and let the car slow even more. She was relieved to be heading back home, no more rude stares from the residents of Star Valley, no awkward silences at dinner surrounded by Barlows, none of whom she wanted to see again. She was grateful that Willow was still so young, so oblivious to the tension so often swirling around her. And to the Barlows’ credit, not one of them had made the little girl feel anything less than a new, welcome addition to their already large family.

“See, Pop-Pop! I told you my daddy got me a pony!” Willow declared, beaming in the backseat.

“Yep. You did tell me,” Dad replied.

“She’s borrowed, but she’s still mine. For a little while.”

Rowan fought the urge to set the record straight for the millionth time. Just saying Seth’s name out loud seemed like a Herculean task at this point. She let it go, let
him
go, and everything to do with him.

The hills rolled past, but the mountains beyond remained steadfast. Part of Rowan wanted to go home, but part of her just wanted to keep on driving, straight to the Tetons, and maybe never look back. Finally spying their driveway (and the gate Seth had repaired for them) she pulled to a stop in front of the house, parked the car, and gestured toward the porch as she got out. “Get the door, baby,” she requested, intending to help Dad out of the passenger seat.

Dad groaned, and Rowan rushed to his side. He was stiff, clearly sore from being out and about for so long. If it hadn’t been a holiday, she’d have insisted that they stay home so he could get some much-needed rest.

“No more going out,” she declared.

Dad tried to laugh, but it came out in a coughing fit. When it subsided, he said, “Well, sweetie, if I don’t go to church, how will I see your mom after the big one hits?”

Rowan glared at him as they shuffled up the porch steps. “You better be talking about an earthquake and not another heart attack.”

He shrugged. “Might take a heart attack over steamed vegetables. Though I wouldn’t say no to more of Sofia’s empanadas.” He coughed again, this time so hard she had to fetch him a glass of water.