by Dahlia West
She loved the farm, at least, the sheep and the dogs and playing in the mud.
“They’re all so cute!” Willow squealed, peering into the cages at each one.
Rowan couldn’t argue. A bunny might be nice, she thought. Certainly cheaper than a pony, a good compromise, she supposed. Easter was next month. They should be all settled into the farmhouse by then. It seemed like great timing, under the circumstances.
“I have to get the feed,” she told Willow.
Willow’s eyes never left the rabbits on display. “Can I stay here?”
“Yeah. Don’t open the cages, though.” Rowan had had enough of chasing sheep for the last few days. Rabbits might be easier, but she still didn’t want to do it.
At the back of the store, Rowan gave her name at the counter so the clerk could call up her grain order and get it ready to put in the truck. As she was reaching for her wallet, someone spoke from behind her.
“Make sure you get your money, Edith,” said a deep-timbered voice. “This one’s a thief.”
Rowan spun and came face to face with Seth Barlow, looking just as he had in the Silver Spur a few nights ago, half-cocked smile, liquid brown eyes twinkling with amusement. He actually winked at her before he looked over her head toward the woman behind the counter. “She stole my jacket. I see she’s taken a liking to it. Guess I’m not going to get it back.”
He reached for her, or rather the lapel of his barn jacket, and Rowan’s heart leapt to her throat. For the second time in a week, she felt dangerously close to panicking. She backed away from him, like she could make herself disappear, or him. If she just shut her eyes, count to three, then open them, he’d be gone. He was just a hallucination, a specter fueled by lack of sleep.
Seth frowned. “Rowan?”
Rowan tried to see behind him, tried to spot Willow in the other part of the store.
“Hey,” he said, stepping closer. “Rowan, it was a joke.”
When she didn’t answer, he peered at her, looking really concerned now. “Are you all right?” He started looking around then, which pushed Rowan into a full-blown panic. “Maybe you should sit down. Edith, can we—”
Rowan pushed past him without speaking.
Seth caught her arm, though and held her gently, as though he thought she might fall. “Rowan, you—”
But Seth’s words were lost. All Rowan could hear was another voice, high pitched and lilting, excitement bubbling through. “Mama!” Willow called.
Rowan shut her eyes, which was foolish. She couldn’t stop this from happening any more than she could stop a bull from charging. “Mama, mama! The black one ate from my hand!”
Willow grabbed Rowan’s other sleeve and tugged on it. When Rowan opened her eyes, Willow was looking up at her, grinning widely, oblivious to the man standing with them, the man who looked so much like her with her deep-set eyes and brown sable hair, several shades darker than Rowan’s own.
Seth had let go of Rowan’s arm, and she started to move away. He reached for her again, but she jerked back suddenly, out of his reach. She was aware she was making a scene, making it worse, and she silently cursed herself. As she gazed about, she saw everyone in the store looking at them, eyes going from Seth to Willow and back. She could practically see them doing the mental calculations. When she turned back, she could tell Seth had already arrived at the answer.
This time she reached out and grabbed his arm. “Don’t say anything!”
He gaped at her. “Rowan!”
“Please,” she whispered. “Please, God, don’t say anything. Don’t tell him!”
Seth looked at her, ashen faced, as though he were seeing her for the first time. “What the hell, Rowan?!”
She could see in his eyes that she’d lost him. That he was no longer on her side, assuming he’d ever really been. She let go of him and stumbled away, backing into a display of camping supplies. It crashed to the floor, scattering batteries and cans of Sterno everywhere. She spun wildly, grabbed her daughter, and hoisted her up into her arms. Feed order abandoned, Rowan ran for the door.
On the highway, she compulsively checked the rearview to see if he was following her. He wasn’t, but it made the twenty miles back to the farm no less harrowing.
“Mama, who was that man?”
Rowan glanced in the rearview and gave Willow a fake smile. “Just a friend, baby. I hadn’t seen him in a long time.”
Willow wrinkled her nose. “You made a mess.”
“I sure did, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t pick it up,” Willow accused.
“I’ll apologize the next time I’m there.” Which would be soon, she realized, because she’d forgotten the damn feed order. Well, she wasn’t going to risk going back there now. She’d have to do it tomorrow.
The sun was beating down, and it melted the slush, making the drive easier and faster. Within twenty minutes, she was already home.
“Where’s the feed?” asked Troy when she pulled into the driveway.
Rowan pressed her lips together and helped Willow jump down from the cab. “I…I didn’t get it,” she told him, slamming the door.
Emma frowned. “Rowan, we have to—” But she stopped abruptly when she saw the look on Rowan’s face. “Troy, there’s still some hay in the barn. Can you toss it out?” When he was far enough away, she whispered, “What happened?”
It. It had happened. And it seemed too big to say out loud, at least not in front of Willow.
“Hey, baby,” said Rowan. “Why don’t you go play with the dogs for a while?”
“Okay!” she called out, waving her plastic pony by its tail as she ran.
“Come inside,” Emma ordered.
It was all Rowan could do to nod and follow her through the front door.
“Was it Court?” Emma asked after closing the door firmly behind them.
Rowan shook her head. “It was Seth. He was there. Somehow he was there. I went to Alpine!” she cried, throwing up her hands. “Alpine! How the hell could one of them have been there?! Everyone around here goes to the Feed and Seed!”
“Seems like bad luck. Or maybe not. Maybe…” Emma said quietly. “Maybe it was a good thing.”
Rowan gaped at her. “How on Earth could this be a good thing, Emma?”
“It’s done now. It’s over.”
Rowan shook her head in disbelief. “It’s not over, Emma. It’s just started. Don’t you see that? Don’t you get it? It’s not over.”
“He isn’t going to care, Rowan. He didn’t care about you then. I bet he hasn’t given you a second thought in four years. This is a blip on the radar screen to an asshole like that. He’s not going to care.”
From Emma’s lips to God’s ears. Rowan hoped like hell that that was true, but she’d never been willing to risk it. She’d never been willing to be forced into a marriage by a small-minded community who valued morality above personal happiness. Being married to a man like Court, who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants in a Ginsu factory, would’ve been torturous. On the other hand, explaining to a child that her daddy knew about her but didn’t care wasn’t an option, either.
Newly pregnant Rowan had lain awake night after night in her bed, imagining every scenario, every way in which Court Barlow could ruin their lives, and in the end she’d decided it wasn’t worth the risk.
Now she had no choice but to play this out. But she’d protect Willow at every turn.
Just then the house phone rang, and Rowan jumped. “Don’t answer it,” she told Emma.
Emma pursed her lips and glanced at the wall where it hung.
There was a second ring, and though it wasn’t true, it seemed like it was getting louder, more shrill. Or maybe that was the blood rushing in her ears.
On the third ring, Emma moved toward it.
“Don’t!” Rowan demanded.
“I’m just going to look at the caller ID.”
“Why bother?” Rowan muttered. She could practically hear Court’s voice alrea
dy on the line—lilting, like Willow’s, when he was happy or excited, dismissive and cold when he’d lost interest in whatever you were saying. He’d never been angry with her, though, in their time together.
He had never cared that much.
It finally stopped, but Emma still wore a grim look on her face. Rowan didn’t need her older sister to tell her what the readout had said. “He’ll come here,” Emma said quietly.
Rowan’s jaw clenched tightly. “I’ll shoot him.”
Emma sighed as the phone started ringing again.
Rowan glared at it. It felt good to not answer it, to leave him hanging for a change. It felt like a small victory in a war she knew she couldn’t win. “Dad’s going to know. And after all he went through the first time, when everyone thought poor Rowan got knocked up by a doctor and couldn’t get him to marry her.” Except this time it would be so much worse.
“Rowan, you have to answer it.”
Every instinct screamed at her and told her not to do it, but Rowan forced herself to cross the room. She lifted the receiver, gripping it tightly. “Hello?” But there was nothing but a dial tone now. Frowning, she set it back down on the hook.
She didn’t think for one second that Court Barlow would give up that easily. This was just the calm before the storm.
Chapter Nine
‡
Seth was floored about the little girl. Looking at her had been like looking in a mirror. He thought back to Rowan pleading with him a few nights before, begging him to keep Court away. Now he understood exactly why it had been so damn important to her. He had no idea what his youngest brother would do once he found out he had a daughter, but it wouldn’t be good. Seth could minimize the fallout, he hoped, by getting to him first and softening the blow. But he had no firm idea about how to do that. There didn’t seem to be an easy way to drop an anvil that large on someone’s head.
If Seth could get to him, get him alone, though, Court could have time to process the news before he did anything rash. With the shock of losing Dad so suddenly and with tensions between Court and Walker at an all-time high, Seth could easily picture Court lighting out for the rodeo again to get away from it all—maybe this time he’d never come back.
Seth was determined not to lose another member of his family right now, and he pressed the accelerator almost to the floor. The sooner he was at Snake River, the sooner he could smooth things over. At some point, Court and Rowan were going to have to sit down and talk things out. Seth didn’t have any illusions about what that would be like. He didn’t know the full details of their breakup, had never really wanted to know, but Sawyer had mentioned once the rampant cheating, that she’d caught him in the act, and that Rowan had been devastated by it.
He could believe that. She’d always seemed like a nice girl. Shy but happy. A girl like that was putty in Court’s hands, and that would’ve been about how much he valued her, too. Court went through women as though they popped out of a vending machine with the press of a button, like toys or snacks.
He guessed he could understand Rowan not wanting to tell Court, at least not right away, not in the middle of a nasty breakup. But keeping it a secret for years, now that was unbelievable. Rowan Archer had a hell of a lot of explaining to do. Seth still felt sorry for her, though. He remembered the look on her face (and the disapproving glares of everyone else at the feed store). She seemed terrified for anyone to discover the truth. She must have been through hell raising the girl alone all these years.
Rowan had been a kid herself, then, and everyone, including Court, was going to have to try to keep that in mind.
He swung his truck into the driveway and parked in front of the house. One look at Court out the driver’s-side window told Seth that he was too late to break the news easy to his youngest brother. Court was stomping back and forth across the hard-packed gravel, cell phone to his ear. Seth was surprised that the slush hadn’t melted in a wide circle around him. Court was clearly breathing fire.
Seth shut off the engine and stepped down from the cab. As he crossed the driveway toward Sawyer, who was standing at the foot of the porch steps, he jammed his hands into his pockets.
“Edith Hellman called from the feed store,” Sawyer said quietly when Seth got close enough.
Seth groaned. Bad news travelled fast.
“She wanted to know if you wanted the bill for the Archers’ feed order charged to our account.” Sawyer had been eyeing him closely, but now his gaze skipped to the truck bed, which was loaded with bags of sheep feed alongside the custom grain mixture Dakota bought for the horses.
Seth swore under his breath. Edith Hellman knew damn good and well that Seth was paying for the order out of his own pocket. He’d gone over it with her as her employees had loaded the truck. “Damn busybody,” he muttered.
Sawyer sighed. “Well, we’re damn lucky that I picked up the phone instead of Walker. They aren’t back yet from the campsite, but they should be here any minute.”
So Sawyer had spoken to Edith.
“And you told him?” Seth accused his younger brother.
Sawyer rubbed his chin and grimaced. “Not exactly, no. I mean, I was surprised, when she said she didn’t know you had a little girl.”
Seth snorted.
“And I couldn’t think what she’d be on about, but then when she asked me about Mac Archer’s order, I put two and two together.” Sawyer shot a surreptitious look at Court, who was still pacing. “I had the office door open. I didn’t know Court was in the living room.” Sawyer searched Seth’s face for a moment before muttering a curse of his own. “So, old Edith had it mostly right, huh?” he mused. “Right family. Wrong daddy.”
Seth blew out a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Well,” Sawyer continued, “he’s been dialing and redialing for about ten minutes now, working himself up to a decent lather because no one at the Archer place will pick up the damn phone.”
“You know her Dad’s in the hospital,” Seth reminded Sawyer. “Heart attack.”
Sawyer winced. “I think I could imagine better timing in all this.”
“And we both know Court’s not the type to sit on this for a few days, if only to let Rowan get things with her Dad settled.”
A sardonic grin spread across Sawyer’s face. “Now that would require Court to think about someone other than Court. And we can hope in one hand and sh—”
“Yeah, I got it. There’s no way,” Seth snapped.
Court finally disconnected the phone, spotted Seth, and stalked across the circular driveway toward them. “Is it true?” he demanded before he even reached them.
Seth sighed. “I…don’t know exactly what the situation is,” he replied carefully.
The secret to keeping Court calm was keeping yourself calm. He seemed to feed off bad energy like some kind of sickly vampire sometimes. It didn’t seem to be a winning strategy today, though.
Court jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t fuck with me, Seth. Does Rowan have a little girl? One who looks like me?”
Seth didn’t answer, which was answer enough.
“God damn it!” Court spat. “This is unreal. Unbelievable!”
“Court,” Seth said evenly. “She’s going through a rough time right now and—”
“To hell with that!” Court snapped. “A rough time? Oh, I’m going to give her a rough fucking time!”
Even Sawyer, normally lighthearted, frowned intensely.
For all his faults, Court would never hit a woman. Never. Not once. But he could be a cutting bastard when he got going, and Rowan was in no state right now to handle that side of him.
Court turned and headed straight for his truck.
Seth lunged for him and grabbed his arm. “Now wait a minute! You need to think about what you’re going to do.”
“I know exactly what I’m going to do! I’m going over there!” Court insisted. “And I’m going to make her look me in the eye and tell me what in the hell she’s been
thinking all these years!”
“Court,” Seth replied, “there’s a little girl here.”
Court glared at him, eyes slitted like a rattler. He even hissed like one. “That would be the fucking point.”
“You know what I mean,” Seth argued. “You need to calm down and realize that this isn’t about you. Or Rowan. It’s about that little girl and what she needs. She’s just a kid, Court. Okay? And Rowan is, too. Or, at least, she was when she made this decision.”
“A decision she made without me!” Court growled.
“So it really doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” Seth continued. “Or who did what to whom five years ago.”
Court didn’t look like any of this was getting through, but Seth kept trying anyway. For Rowan, for the little girl, and for Court, too, if he’d put aside his rage long enough to realize it.
“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” Seth repeated. “You and Rowan—”
“Well, it sure as hell isn’t my fault!” Court insisted.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’d be willing to bet that whatever it is, it’s probably Court’s fault.”
Everyone turned to see Walker, who’d just come around the corner of the barn.
Sawyer began to whistle the theme from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.
“Knock it off,” Seth growled.
Walker took note of Sawyer and his soundtrack, and judging by the smile that faded from their oldest brother’s lips, Walker seemed to realize that whatever was going on wasn’t Court’s usual fare of traffic tickets and bar fights.
“So what is it now?” Walker demanded, eyeing the three of them.
No one answered for a moment.
“Seth.”
Just the sound of his name was an order plain as day. And though Seth was younger, he could stand up to Walker, certain times, certain places, but this wasn’t one of those times. There was no point in trying. Half the town would be talking about it by now. Walker was bound to get another phone call before dark.
