by Dahlia West
Kinka nudged her, whining and concerned.
Rowan couldn’t even form the words to tell him everything was okay.
Mostly because everything was not okay.
And never would be again.
He barked sharply, sounding the alarm. Somewhere through the haze of despair, Rowan heard the front door slam, heard boots clomping their way toward her.
“Mama?” Willow cried.
Rowan fought valiantly to get herself under control, to put on a brave face for her daughter. She dug her nails into her palms, trying to use physical pain to drive out the emotional. Spots of blood welled, and Willow gasped as she got close enough to see. “Mama!”
Rowan took a deep breath and managed to speak. “No, it’s fine,” she declared loudly. Her voice was brittle on the wind. “It’s fine. I fell. I fell down. I’m okay.”
The front door banged again, and this time Emma came charging out, Remington in hand. Rowan saw her scan the property for danger. Not finding any, she darted toward Rowan and Willow. Rowan lifted a bloody hand, tried to wave her sister away, tried to tell her that the danger had already passed. Rowan had walked head first into it, despite every warning, every alarm bell that had told her not to go down this road again.
She’d been taken down by a predator, and there was ample proof of the attack. She was bloody and crying and dirty.
Emma understood, as only a sister could, exactly what had happened. She shouldered the rifle and put a hand on Willow’s shoulder. “It’s all right,” Emma assured Willow. “She’s not hurt. Go on back up to the house.”
“But—”
“Go on, honey,” Emma said firmly. “I’ll help her up.”
Willow reluctantly turned and walked away.
Kinka, having decided that the girl was the most vulnerable, followed her back to the house but gave Rowan a long, sad look before he went.
She’s not hurt.
But oh God. She was. She was.
Nothing in Rowan’s life had felt like this. Not since their mother had died all those years ago. And just like that time so long ago, she was left wondering what would happen now. What would happen to her? How would she go on?
Rowan could scarcely breathe as she sagged against Emma.
“I’m sorry,” Emma whispered, sounding so much like Seth had just moments ago. But at least Emma was touching her, holding her. It certainly felt like Emma actually cared, if no one else did.
Rowan braced herself for the inevitable I told you so, but it never came. Instead, Emma seemed to take on Rowan’s pain and anger, channeling it for herself, and in doing so, sharing some of Rowan’s burden. “Those bastards,” Emma spat. “Those Barlow bastards.”
Rowan wanted to argue, to defend Seth against the accusation. But could she? Could she really? Because he’d left her here, begging, pleading. He’d walked away from everything they had. But maybe they didn’t have anything at all. Maybe that was a lie. They certainly hadn’t had anything worth fighting for, not to Seth, apparently.
They could’ve stayed together, could’ve worked it out. They’d have had to keep it secret, at least for a little while, at least until Court was in a better place. But that would involve lying and sneaking around. And Seth Barlow wasn’t the type of man to do either of those things. Seth Barlow was a good man, a decent man.
And in the end, that was what confused Rowan the most. How a good man, the kind of man she’d dreamed about, hoped might come along someday, how could a good man still be so wrong?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‡
Seth forced himself to turn away and fisted his hands to keep them from shaking. For some reason, his father’s words echoed in his ears as he walked stiff legged back to his truck. You can always tell which is the right thing to do…because it’ll be hard. Well, this was by far the hardest thing he’d ever done. Harder, even, than burying both of his parents, because those weren’t his choice and this was.
He slipped behind the wheel and cranked the engine, unable to look at Rowan as he rolled past, toward the highway. He white-knuckled it all the way back home, resisting the urge to turn around, or to pull over, or to just keep driving until he ran out of gas. It wasn’t fair to her to ask her to wait, for a day that may never come. Court may never be able to accept Seth and Rowan being together. And Seth couldn’t drive a permanent wedge between himself and his brother. He was confident she’d never take Court back.
She’d find someone, though. And while Seth was pissed that it wouldn’t be him, he knew Rowan deserved a coupling that was less complicated, less traumatic for everyone involved. Seth hoped to God the man lucky enough to have her treated her the way he should. If not, Seth would be sure to pay the bastard a visit despite Rowan having told him to stay away.
He supposed she was well within her rights to do so, but he hoped like hell she’d change her mind. She needed help running that ranch. There was no way she could do it alone, even with Emma. And Seth needed her. Even if he could only look at her, even if he could only alleviate his guilt by offering her his help.
Seth wasn’t certain how Rowan would fare without him, but he knew damn well life would be painful without her. Being with her, even in the smallest, most insignificant capacity would be better than nothing. He refused to believe she would cut him out like that entirely, not after what they’d shared.
Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
That look on her face, oh God, that look, like he’d gutted her, like he’d reached right inside her and ripped out her heart. She might stay true to her word and never have anything to do with him again, and Seth couldn’t very well blame her if she did.
He turned into his own driveway even though Snake River was the last place he wanted to be right now. He didn’t feel like eating, and though he was exhausted, he doubted he could sleep. He would’ve passed up the dining room and the clanging of utensils he heard coming from that direction, but Sofia appeared at the sound of the front door closing, and he couldn’t brush off her invitation to dinner.
He forced himself to smile and nod and glanced at the firmly closed office door as he passed it. They were all fighting their own battles, he supposed, all trying to figure out what the future held for each of them.
The dining room was mostly silent as Seth entered it and pulled out his usual chair. He hesitated, though, when he saw an additional empty seat. “Where’s Gabe?” Seth asked, nodding toward the man’s usual place setting.
Dakota and Sofia frowned. The others, too, looked troubled.
“He went for a ride,” Dakota told him.
Seth’s brow furrowed. “A ride?” That wasn’t so unusual, but the look on Gabe’s little sister’s face was. The normally happy and bubbly Dakota looked sad…and worried. “When did he leave?”
“Right after,” Sawyer replied quietly.
Seth’s hand tightened on his fork. “Alone?”
Sawyer shook his head. “Walker’s with him. Sort of. I think it’s more like following along behind him, tracking him, but giving him space.”
Seth breathed a sigh of relief and glanced again out of the dining room toward the closed office door, where he had assumed Walker was holed up, crunching more numbers. He felt better that Gabe wasn’t alone. He turned back to the table, to look at Austin, but before his lips could form a question, Austin said, “Weather looks good.”
Seth nodded. Gabe and Walker could handle anything else—bear, moose, wolves—they’d be fine as long as the weather held out.
No one ate much, which made Seth feel guilty about all the time Sofia had spent in the kitchen preparing the meal. He didn’t like the fact that their table numbers were dwindling, even temporarily. It was hard enough to get used to Dad and Manny not filling their chairs. Seeing Walker and Gabe’s just made everything worse. Court wouldn’t look at him, which was probably just as well. He wasn’t on Seth’s list of favorite people right now.
As each person finished, they cleared their place without a word an
d left the room until Seth and Sofia were the only ones left. Seth realized he’d been too distracted, too lost in his own thoughts to actually eat much of the food.
“I’ll take it,” said Sofia, reaching down for his plate.
“No, no,” Seth argued and picked up his fork again. “I’ll eat. I’ll finish it,” he replied, because she’d gone to the trouble of making it. He thought she might walk away, tend to her own dishes, but instead she set her plate down and slid into the chair beside him.
Seth paused and looked at her.
“I think we’re almost mirror images of each other,” she told him. “Wounds of the heart, they take the longest to heal, I think.”
He was startled for a moment, but of course the woman knew everything that went on at Snake River. Overcome with guilt, he reached out and squeezed her hand gently. “As bad as I feel, Sofia, giving up Rowan isn’t the same as you losing Manny.” He gazed at her, impressed as always at her strength and warmth. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “We’re all sorry. Sofia, if I’d known, if I’d had any clue that Dad was going to…”
He couldn’t even bring himself to say the words again. It had been difficult enough just to tell Rowan, though now, in retrospect, he felt even worse about having burdened her with the horrible knowledge. He’d been so torn between offering her the explanation she deserved and protecting her from such an ugly truth.
There was no way to protect Sofia, though. She had every right to know how her husband had really died, in a valiant attempt to save his friend from making a terrible decision. Seth wouldn’t blame her if she hated them, if all three remaining members of the Vasquez family hated the Barlows. But he knew Sofia would never hold it against them. Somehow that made Seth feel even worse.
“Your father was a proud man,” she said. “He would never talk about our troubles, never give voice to his fears. But Manny and I knew he was worried, but we didn’t know how serious it was. I wish Rafe had made a different decision, but not Manny.”
Seth gaped at her. “Sofia! How can you say that?”
“My husband was a good man,” she replied. “For him to let Rafe go, not to follow, not to try to get his friend back, that wouldn’t have been the Manny I loved.” She sighed. “This land takes as much as it gives, Seth. You and your brothers, Dakota and Gabe, you’ve always known this. But now you understand it. It takes as much as it gives, so we have to be sure we give as much as we take. We all do what we can, for ourselves, for each other. That was who Rafe was, who Manny was. Rafe could do nothing but sacrifice himself for us, or so he believed, and Manny could do nothing but try to save him.”
She smiled wanly. “We didn’t know about the land that Rafe left us. It was such a blessing, the one silver lining in all of this darkness. Your father was such a good man, Seth. You must never, ever be angry with him for doing what he did. Grieve for him, pray for his soul, but never be angry that he loved us so much.”
She reached out and took his hand in hers. For a moment, Seth remembered his own mother and the way she used to hug him whenever he was within arm’s length. “You’re so like him,” Sofia said quietly. “You most of all, out of all your brothers.”
Seth was startled. “Walker—”
The older woman shook her head. “No. He’s a leader like your father, and he takes on more than he can probably carry, like Rafe, but you’re the one who makes the sacrifices. You’re the one who puts everyone else first.”
Seth snorted derisively. “Nice guys finish last,” he muttered.
Without a wife, without a family.
He shrugged and pushed back his chair, not wanting to dwell on it. He told himself he had a roof over his head on the coldest nights and the stars above him on the range and that’s all he really needed.
It wasn’t all he fucking wanted. But it was what he needed.
“Good night, Sofia,” he said before he turned and trudged up the stairs.
As he got undressed, he found it meant little to him now that he wasn’t undressing for her. And his bed seemed cold because she wasn’t in it. He tossed and turned and twisted himself up in the sheets, angry and frustrated. How could he have gotten used to sleeping with her in such a short time? It seemed ridiculous, impossible, but clearly he had, because without Rowan tucked under his arm, head on his chest, Seth could only glare at the ceiling, unable to even close his eyes.
“I love you,” he whispered to the cracks in the plaster, because saying it to her, just before he had to break it off, would’ve just been torturing them both.
Chapter Thirty
‡
Rowan woke raw throated from crying herself to sleep and gave up trying to make her face less puffy. She simply raked a comb through her hair and headed out the door with Willow to get to the hospital on time.
“Does Pop-Pop really get to come home today?” asked Willow.
“Yes, baby. Today’s the day,” Rowan replied, glancing in the rearview.
Willow looked up at the same time and frowned. “Are you sad, Mama? Don’t you want Pop-Pop to come home?”
Startled by the question, Rowan’s foot actually came off the gas pedal. “Of course I want Pop-Pop to come home, baby. Of course I do.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I’m…I’m just tired, baby.”
“And you got hurt,” Willow reminded her, though she hadn’t needed to.
Rowan wasn’t likely to forget the hollow ache in her chest anytime soon.
Or ever.
“I’m just fine, baby,” she lied. “Pop-Pop’s coming home. We’re moving in. Everything’s going to be just fine.”
Rowan believed it, even if she didn’t feel it right now. It wouldn’t be easy, though. So much of their lives was going to change now with medications and bills. At least she could handle the home nursing and pill organization he’d need. They wouldn’t have to hire anyone. She was more than qualified to care for him, made more obvious by the fact that Paul Renner was at the nurses’ station, filling out a chart and beaming at her as she stepped off the elevator.
He put down the chart and shook her hand warmly. “He’s looking really good, Rowan.”
She nodded, knowing that he was, but it was nice to hear it anyway.
“And,” said Paul, “I talked to the head of HR for you yesterday. You’re in,” he declared. Then he winked at her, and she laughed, a clear, genuine laugh that felt good.
Behind Paul, Jill Sykes tried quickly to stifle the glare she was giving them just as soon as Rowan’s eyes met hers. Jill plastered a pageant smile on her face, and Rowan returned it, not really caring that she’d have to work side by side with the odious woman.
It was such a relief not to have to drive to Alpine for work. Working the farm and a full-time job would be difficult, but every little break would help.
“Thank you, Paul,” Rowan gushed. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”
He grinned and patted Willow on the head. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”
Rowan nodded, returning the sentiment before heading into Dad’s room to collect him. This time her smile was real and unforced, and she reminded herself that Dad didn’t know anything about Seth, nor would he. It was over before it began, really, and there was no point in rehashing it with anyone else.
“Today’s the day!” she said cheerfully, helping him with his fleece-lined slippers.
Dad smiled and looked relieved to be going home. Though he couldn’t pick up Willow, he slung an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. Rowan knew he was as happy for them to move in as they were to move.
It was nice to have a man in their lives who’d stick around.
She managed to get them both in the car and back home on her own. As they walked into the house, she looked around the living room, perhaps seeing for the first time that it had grown somewhat shabby in her almost-five-year absence. The paint on the house was peeling, and the stairs creaked but she couldn’t love a place m
ore. Or the people in it.
“You know I need you, right Dad?” she asked. “I mean, you know I need you here.”
Dad turned to look at her curiously. “What do you mean? Where else would I be?”
Rowan couldn’t help but think about Rafe Barlow. She hadn’t known him well. She’d seen him while she’d been dating Court, and at church, around town. But he’d always had a kind word for her.
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just…you know it doesn’t mean as much, this place, not without you. Right?”
He squeezed her shoulder, and she couldn’t help but notice how weak his hold was, how close she and Emma had come to losing him. “I’m not going anywhere, honey,” he assured her. “Even if I have to give up salt. And steaks. And anything that tastes good.”
She smiled back because she was happy to have him here, but she couldn’t imagine Rafe Barlow’s last moments. Or, rather, she could imagine them, she just couldn’t understand them. For Dad to leave them? For her to leave Willow? It was unthinkable. How could Mr. Barlow have thought they were better off without him? But then she’d thought they were better off without Court, and they had been up until now.
Not wanting to think about it anymore, she put everything Dad needed within arm’s reach—remote control, bottle of water, pillow to ease the pain of coughing—and headed out to the barn to feed the sheep. Time was getting away from her, and she ripped the top off another bag, anxious to get her chores done before the pharmacy closed.
She was only half finished when she heard the sound of tires on the gravel driveway. Her heart thudded in her chest, knowing that no matter who it was, she didn’t want to see them. She set down the bag and peeked through the crack in the open barn door, spying Court’s massive truck parked underneath the tree. She groaned.
She didn’t want to see him. Or Seth. Or anyone at this point. She just wanted a quiet life with her family, such as it was. But she headed out the door quickly, to stop him from going up to the house. When he saw her, he ducked his head, and Rowan got the impression that he might actually feel a bit sorry about the things he’d said to her the last time they saw each other. She wasn’t sure she could believe that, though. For as long as she’d known him, Court Barlow had never apologized.