Rough Stock (16 page)

The light was getting gauzy, and Rowan turned away from him to look at it. A faint smile played on her lips, and he realized it was the first time in days he’d seen it. “I missed this,” she said. “
So much.
”

“Isn’t it the same sunset in Cheyenne?” he asked as blue bled into pink, like large strands of cotton candy from the fair.

“No,” she said firmly.

And Seth knew that it wasn’t. Because it wasn’t for him, either. The sunset in Star Valley was the closest to Heaven. He’d convinced himself of this as a child and had never wavered in this belief.

“I used to think if I climbed high enough,” she said, nodding to the foothills, to their right, “I could reach out and catch the clouds as they went by.”

They stood in silence for a while, watching the light fade. When the sun itself was finally below the horizon, Seth tipped his hat to her. “Good night, Rowan.”

“Good night, Seth.”

She turned away and headed up the porch steps.

Seth got into his truck and turned over the engine. All his good feelings faded as his tires ate up the blacktop from the Archer place to Snake River. What had Court been thinking swiping a horse and bringing it by? The answer was, of course, he hadn’t been. Seth threw his Ford into park in the large driveway and lowered himself to the ground, slamming the door in disgust.

Sawyer was perched in a rocking chair on the porch and peered over the railing at him. “It’s safer out here,” he called out in warning.

“Dakota?” Seth asked as he mounted the stairs.

Sawyer nodded. “Well, that, and Austin and Walker have managed to lower the temperature around here by a few degrees all on their own.”

“Austin and Dakota went to the barn together. Walker’s inside. Tearing up the office, chewing on the furniture, I suspect.”

The front door opened, and Court appeared on the porch. “Hey,” he said. “Why were you at Rowan’s place when I got there?”

Seth narrowed his eyes at his youngest brother. “I forgot a feed bag last night. We can’t use it, and she needs it.”

“Oh. Hey, listen, can you…can you talk to her for me?”

Sawyer chuckled from his seat. “Your famous Vaquero charm not working on her these days?”

Court glared at him. “She’s just stubborn,” he insisted.

“Well,” Sawyer drawled, “impromptu group sex to which she wasn’t invited tends to do that to a woman.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Really?” asked Sawyer. “Seems like that was how you rang in the New Year, too, if I recall.”

“I wasn’t cheating on anybody that time!”

“All right,” Seth said wearily. “Enough.”

Court shot one last venomous look at Sawyer before turning to Seth. “She likes you.”

Seth was quiet, waiting to hear where this was going.

“So, I was thinking, you could…work on her. Explain to her that I’ve changed.”

Seth let out a long, slow breath. “I don’t know.”

“I have!” Court protested. “You know I have.”

Seth knew no such thing, but he didn’t feel like arguing tonight. “So, just show her.”

“That’ll take forever. And you saw she doesn’t exactly lift her tail when I come around.”

Seth’s hands flexed at his sides, but other than that he remained still.

“Just talk to her for me,” Court said. “You’re good with women.”

“Yeah, Seth,” Sawyer chimed in. “You’re
great
with women. Well, you don’t lie, and you don’t cheat, and they don’t cry after they’ve been with you. Thumbs-up in my book!”

“Shut up!” Court snapped. “She’s pissed off, Seth. And I don’t want her pissed off.”

Seth sighed. “Neither do I.”

“So, you’ll talk to her?”

“I’ll…I don’t want her to get hurt. She needs help, Court.”

“Yeah, okay, so you’ll help her, and you’ll get her to sit down with me to talk.”

“I’ll help her,” Seth replied, feeling a bit slimy as he spoke.

“Awesome!”

Court took off down the stairs, whistling a jaunty tune.

Seth sighed again and lowered himself into the chair next to Sawyer.

Dakota and Austin came out of the barn, heads together, speaking in hushed tones. They parted ways at the foreman’s shack.

Sawyer grunted. “Sure makes things complicated,” he said, “when your brother’s got his eyes on your woman.”

Seth turned and studied his younger brother intensely, searching for some kind of veiled accusation. But Sawyer’s eyes, as usual, were the darkest of the Barlows and impossible to read. “I can’t see Austin moving in on Dakota,” Seth declared.

Sawyer shrugged. “They’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“I’m sure it’s not like that,” Seth insisted, defending Austin as much as himself.

Sawyer peered at him. “Yeah,” he finally said. “I mean, you’ve been over to the Archer place a few times now. Just helping out.”

Rowan had a laundry list of things to do at the farm, none of it being actual laundry, it seemed. “Rowan and her sister are running the place by themselves while their dad is in the hospital,” Seth told Sawyer. “It’s hard work for two people. Especially two women.”

Sawyer shrugged again. “They grew up on the farm,” he pointed out. “They’re used to it.”

“Rowan’s a nurse,” Seth argued. “And she lives in Cheyenne. She’s not a sheep rancher.”

Sawyer smiled in a way that made Seth want to punch him. “Well, I guess you know her better than I do.”

Seth heaved himself out of his chair and started toward the front door.

“Hey,” Sawyer called after him. “Where’s your jacket, anyway? Your lined one? That’s your summer jacket you’re wearing.”

Seth ignored him as he yanked open the door.

“Aren’t you cold?” Sawyer shouted.

“
No
,” Seth snapped without looking back.

He was too pissed off to be cold.

‡

R
owan tucked Willow
into bed, wondering how her daughter had grown so big without her noticing. She was big enough now to ride a pony, Rowan supposed.
And old enough to ride away from her mother and straight to Court
, she also thought bitterly.

“That horse was pretty, wasn’t she?” Willow asked as Rowan pulled up the blanket.

“Yes, baby, she was.”

“And we can go to Court’s farm and see his other horses.”

Rowan frowned, and Willow noticed.

“You promised!”

“We will, baby,” Rowan assured her. “We will.”

Rowan paused for a moment before reaching for the lamp on the nightstand. She looked down at her daughter, her whole world for almost five years, and took a deep breath. “Honey, I…have to explain something to you. Court…well…baby, Court is your daddy.”

Willow’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

It felt strange to speak the words out loud, afraid as she’d been of them for so long.

“How come I never saw him before?!”

There would be a time for that later, Rowan supposed, when Willow got older and the accusations came—which they would, Rowan had no doubt. Someday she’d have to find a way to talk about why she’d done what she’d done. There might never be a good way to explain herself and her choices to Willow. Rowan just hoped that Willow would forgive her someday, when she finally understood things.

It was tempting to trash Court, but no good would come of it. Willow couldn’t possibly understand it, certainly not now. And if Court, by some miracle, ever did get his shit together, Rowan didn’t want to be responsible for driving a wedge between father and daughter simply out of spite and past hurts.

She had to give some kind of answer, though, now that the question had been asked. For now, Rowan did the easiest thing, the comfortable thing—she lied.

“Court was in the rodeo, baby, remember like we saw in Cheyenne? He travelled a lot. All over the country. He was gone. But he lives here now,” Rowan added quickly to head off any questions. “He lives in Star Valley, just like we will, and…” She swallowed hard. “You’ll be able to see him whenever you want.”

“Can we go to his farm tomorrow? Please? Please, please, please?!”

“No, baby. We can’t.”

“But you said—!”

“We have to work tomorrow, Willow. We’ve got to walk the fence line. Remember, sweetie, the farm comes first. Before everything else. Always. But…after we’re done, I’ll…”

Actually, calling Court was quite possibly the very last thing on this Earth that Rowan wanted to do. But she’d always put Willow first and wasn’t about to change that now. “I’ll call Court tomorrow,” she vowed. “We’ll work out a visit. Now, go to sleep, baby. Tomorrow, after we work, I’ll call.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Willow turned to pull her stuffed lamb closer. “I have a daddy, Wooliam!” she whispered. “A
real
one!”

Rowan turned out the light, leaving the nightlight burning, and closed the bedroom door quietly. Instead of retiring to her own room, she headed downstairs, slipped into her boots and Seth’s jacket and stood outside on the porch. The night was crisp and clear, though cold. With the porch light off, the stars shimmered above her like diamonds on velvet.

She wondered if Seth liked to look at the stars, too.

Rowan didn’t feel better for having finally told the truth to Willow. To be honest, part of her, deep down, had kind of expected relief, if only minimal, that the whole house of cards had tumbled down. It had been difficult to hold them up for so long. But in truth she felt nothing. Nothing at all.

Maybe it was because she was tired. Between work here at the farm and visits to Dad, she was worn out,
worn thin
, left numb to everything. But part of it maybe was how she’d been living, vending machine meals, not enough free time, never enough sleep. She’d been putting one foot in front of the other for so long that she’d lost sight of the road. She was home, now, though, so the lonely trek was over. She closed her eyes and smelled the night air.

Somewhere in the dark, a howl broke the silence. In their chain-link run, the dogs broke into a chorus of snaps, snarls, and barks. Rowan moved back away from the edge of the steps and ducked into the house again, closing the door firmly behind herself.

Home wasn’t without its share of challenges.

*

In the morning,
Rowan bundled Willow into the car and headed into town to check on Dad. Thankfully, she was able to duck past all the nurses at this point and head straight to his room. She was unhappy, though, when she found him nearly doubled over in bed, wracked with a cough.

It must have come on quickly, because he wasn’t clutching his pillow, the way he was supposed to. She grabbed it and pressed it to his chest. “Don’t panic,” she told him, knowing he was having trouble getting air. “Just stay calm.”

Within a few minutes, it subsided, and he fumbled for the water glass on the small beside table.

“Th…th…” he stuttered.

“It’s all right, Dad.”

She didn’t need to be thanked. She just needed him to get better.

Another coughing fit erupted, and this time, instead of going for the water, Rowan snatched a stethoscope hanging off the wall behind the bed. She affixed the buds in her ears and pressed the drum to her father’s back. “Try and take a deep breath in,” she commanded.

He tried and failed, but Rowan had heard enough. She pressed the nurses’ call button and handed her dad the cup of water. Within a few moments, Jill Sykes came in, looking fit to be tied, her face pinched and cheeks red. “We’re on a schedule, Rowan, and—”

“I want x-rays for my dad,” Rowan interrupted. “Now.”

Jill looked from Rowan to Mac and back again. “I…I’m not…”

“Get Dr. Hillman and tell him I want a full chest x-ray.”

Jill turned and sped off, presumably to do Rowan’s bidding, while Rowan took the cup from Dad’s shaking hand and dabbed at his face with a square of paper towel. “When did your cough get worse?”

“Oh,” he sighed. “I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Did you tell anyone?” she asked, but she already knew the answer.

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

Rowan sighed. While Dad was trying not to be a bother, he’d developed a lung infection.

Dr. Hillman wrote down the new orders, and the orderlies took Dad away. Rowan followed and stood next to the technician as the stills were taken. She groaned, not needing the man beside her to give her the bad news.