by Dahlia West
Rowan nodded. “To help get Kinka to the vet.”
Tired though she seemed, Willow jumped out of bed to pull on her clothes. They headed downstairs to find Seth seated on the couch next to Kinka, who gave them a thump of his tail in greeting.
“Mornin’, sweetheart,” Seth declared. “Did you sleep okay?”
Willow nodded.
“Did you, big guy?” Seth asked, looking at Kinka, who thumped his tail again happily.
Willow’s eyes went wide. “Will he be okay?”
“I think so. But we’re going to have Doc Chambers take a look. Just to be sure.”
Willow nodded as though that sounded like a good idea to her.
“Well, now, boy,” Seth said to Kinka. “Are you feeling well enough for me to lift you this time?” He wrapped his arms around the dog and heaved him off the couch and onto the floor.
The whole procession followed the dog slowly outside and down the porch stairs, with Kinka limping every step of the way.
Once they were outside, Rowan noticed Seth had taken a thick, blue tarp from the barn and now had it in the bed of his truck. She guessed that he’d gathered the carcasses of the wolves and hidden them, obviously intending to dispose of them himself. She was glad that Willow didn’t have to see them.
She was glad for the reprieve, too. Still, farm work was brutal, especially since it hadn’t provided the distraction she wanted. Nothing had been able to take her mind off Dad, or her growing feelings for Seth, or Court’s antics. All she could think about now was Seth’s body, pinning hers, his lips, his taste, his scent. She needed it again. And again and again. Rowan wasn’t certain how she’d ever get enough. Even just seeing him would be good enough—for now. Seeing his golden skin, dark eyes, and muscled frame would be enough of a fix until the sun went down again.
Tomorrow had become tonight.
Tonight, every night, Rowan hoped.
She was shaken from her thoughts when a low growl erupted from Kinka. The dog clearly knew what was hidden underneath the tarp, even if Willow was fooled.
Seth smiled. “Oh, it’s just a few more steps, old boy,” he said, though he gave Rowan a knowing look.
Rowan stepped casually between Willow and the truck’s bed, blocking the little girl’s view.
“We’re going to put him in the backseat with you,” Seth told her. “The royal treatment for such a good dog.”
At this, Willow brightened, and even Kinka allowed himself to be picked up again for the chance to go for a ride in Seth’s truck. The dog seemed undaunted about the bodies of his enemies lying in the bed, and Rowan pushed them out of her mind, as well, to lift Willow in beside him, onto the spare booster seat they kept in the closet, and buckle her lap belt tightly.
They rumbled along the highway toward Bill Chambers’ small veterinary practice just outside the Star Valley city limits. Willow was briefly distracted by the cows, horses, and even one llama that were apparently convalescing on the property in divided paddocks surrounding the old Victorian house that served as a business front on the first floor and living quarters upstairs.
Kinka gave a halfhearted bark when he realized where they were, having been coming here since he was born for his yearly checkup and apparently excited to see the place now. To Rowan, the Chambers place was as familiar and comforting as finally being back in her own home.
As they approached the front of the house, the front door opened. Instead of the robust Doc Chambers greeting them, it was a smaller, willowy figure with long blond, messy hair.
“Skye!” Rowan blurted out, finally recognizing the woman in the doorway.
Skye Chambers tugged at her unruly hair and waved.
“I didn’t know you were in Star Valley!” Rowan exclaimed as she climbed the steps of the front porch. “Emma said you had two more years left in Denver.”
Skye had been a year behind Rowan and Court in high school. And while Rowan had pursued nursing, Skye had gone to veterinary school. So much in the small town felt like Rowan had never left. She and Skye had never been particularly close, but they’d always been on friendly terms. Seeing her now, back from Denver, put a smile on Rowan’s face.
“I graduated a semester early,” Skye replied, glancing at Seth and looking surprised to see him. “Hi, Seth,” she said cautiously.
He smiled. “Skye.”
To head off any more awkwardness, Rowan stepped forward. “Sorry we’re here so early. But a pack of wolves came onto our property last night.”
Skye’s eyes widened. “Are the sheep okay?”
Rowan nodded. “The flock’s okay, but Kinka got hurt fighting them off. He’s in Seth’s backseat. Can we bring him in? Is your dad awake?”
Skye frowned. “Well, he is. I’ll go tell him you’re here.” To Seth, she said, “Go ahead and bring Kinka in, straight back to the exam room.”
Rowan followed Skye inside the house with Willow in tow. Bill Chambers appeared in the kitchen doorway, coffee mug in hand.
“It’s Rowan Archer,” Skye told him as they moved down the hall. “Wolves got onto their property last night and tussled with Kinka.”
The old man grunted, turned back to the kitchen, and appeared almost at their side just moments later as Skye opened the door to a parlor that had been turned into an exam room about fifty years ago, or whenever Bill Chambers’ father had set up the family veterinary practice. Rowan was barely old enough to remember the Chambers patriarch who’d long since passed.
Seth brought in Kinka, helping the dog walk under his own steam. He lifted the Great Pyrenees onto the steel table, despite Kinka’s determination to do what he knew was wanted of him.
Doc and Skye worked in tandem, searching for wounds through the long white hair and clipping around them to get a better look.
Rowan was disheartened to see the damage was more extensive than she’d thought. That thick coat had hidden his puncture marks well, but it hadn’t been enough to keep the wolf’s fangs from tearing into him. Rowan kept her cool, barely, but beside her Willow whimpered.
Before Rowan could reassure her, Skye looked over at her and smiled. “He’ll be all right.”
“Really?”
Skye nodded. “Yep. In a few days, he’ll be right as rain. He’s had all his vaccines, and it wasn’t a bat or a skunk, so that’s good. There hasn’t been a known case of a wolf with rabies in Wyoming in my lifetime.”
“Nor mine,” said Doc, swabbing the worst of the bites with antiseptic. “We won’t stitch him, just in case there’s a bacterial infection, though. Easier to treat if there is. I’ll give you some Rimadyl for the pain, enough for a week. Should help him get back to work.”
Willow’s eyes widened. “Can’t he just stay in my bed till he’s better?”
Doc laughed. “Well, honey, you would. And I sure would. But Kinka here’s been in charge of that ranch ever since your granddaddy bought him from Randall Sayres as a pup. You try telling him he’s not allowed to protect his flock. Or you. He won’t like it much. This’ll slow him down some, for sure, but he’ll get the job done. He doesn’t know any other way, honey.” He grinned, and Rowan saw a twinkle in the old man’s eyes. “’Course, I doubt he’d object much to sleeping in your bed after his work day’s done.”
“Can he?!” Willow asked breathlessly.
“Dad!” Skye hissed. “You’re stirring up trouble.”
The old man winked at Willow. “Well, now, what are old men for if not for stirring up trouble?”
Rowan couldn’t help but see so much of her own father in the man standing before her. Surely they were cut from the same cloth. “We’ll see,” she told Willow, but Rowan—and Willow—knew it meant yes.
The little girl beamed.
Kinka wagged his tail, as though he’d understood the conversation, but the old man was scratching him behind the ear.
“Right as rain,” said Doc Chambers. “Soon enough.” He turned to the small cabinet on the wall and opened it to look through the array of bottle
s stored there.
“Just give us a call,” Skye told Rowan, “if he starts to look sluggish, or there’s vomiting, or diarrhea.”
“Ew!” Willow screeched.
“Well, here you go,” said Doc, turning back to them. He started toward Rowan, but Skye reached out and took hold of his wrist suddenly.
“No, Dad,” she said quietly, closing her hand around the small bottle. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.” She quickly put the bottle back into the cabinet and retrieved a different one, same size, same color. She twisted off the cap to check the contents then secured it again.
The old man’s mouth turned down, and the smile from just moments ago was all but forgotten. He grunted. “I’ll go finish feeding the overnighters,” he announced and headed out the door with barely a nod at Rowan and Seth.
A long, heavy silence was left in the old man’s wake.
Skye’s gaze followed her father’s retreating form.
“Skye?” Rowan finally prompted.
The younger woman cleared her throat and held out the bottle. “I…this is right,” she insisted. “Give him two a day. You can bump it up to three, morning, noon, and night, if he looks like he’s having mobility problems. I can refill it.”
Rowan took the bottle but held Skye’s gaze. “Skye,” she said quietly.
Skye’s brows knitted together.
“Is it Alzheimer’s? Or dementia? Or—?” Rowan asked gently.
Skye gasped. “No! No. It’s…he’s…” She glanced again at the open door, looking wistful. “No,” she sighed. “Macular degeneration.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Skye.”
Skye nodded, blond hair falling across her face. “It’s why I finished school early. Things are getting hard. He has to stop doing surgeries. It…it sounds terrible, but sometimes I think Alzheimer’s or some other form of dementia might be better in some ways. He’s still got all his other faculties. Mind sharp as a razor.” She smiled ruefully. “He’s still got the entire Merck Veterinary Manual memorized verbatim. He’s frustrated. And people are starting to notice, but they don’t know why yet. We haven’t made an official announcement. He’s got an appointment in Denver for laser therapy in two weeks. He needs more time, to get used to the idea, to acclimate. He’s hoping for a miracle. I’m hoping it slows the progression long enough for him to learn the skills he’s going to need when…”
She didn’t need to explain further. “Well, no one will hear it from us,” Rowan replied, squeezing Skye’s hand.
“No,” said Seth, echoing her sentiments. “Though I’m very sorry to hear about it, Skye. If there’s anything you need, we’re just a phone call away.”
If Rowan were a jealous woman, she’d be rattled that Seth would apparently offer his help to any damsel in distress. But he wasn’t looking at Skye with the same heat, the same hunger.
He was just a good man doing the right thing.
That alone made Seth Barlow a rare beast.
Back home, just like Doc Chambers had predicted, Kinka limped off to check on his flock.
Willow headed inside to watch cartoons.
Alone on the porch, Seth didn’t seem to be able to wait a moment longer, either. He moved in close and kissed her, soft and lingering, finally releasing her before things got too heated.
“Will you come again tonight?” she asked.
He gave her a sly look, and she slapped his chest with a grin. “Yes,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “But I want you to come first.”
“Seth!”
He chuckled and pulled her close. “Not what I meant. I’m worried about you, Rowan. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Impossible to do when he was this close.
“I want you to come to Snake River,” he clarified. “You and Willow. Can you come this afternoon? I’ve got…a little something worked out. And after all this…” He gestured to the truck bed. “Willow could use something fun.”
Rowan didn’t want anything (like Court’s presence) dampening her time with Seth, but the man was right, Willow could use something to take her mind off last night.
And frankly, so could Rowan. Her body still ached from a combination of being knocked on her ass and being manhandled by a smoking-hot cowboy. She needed a lot less of one and a whole lot more of the other. But Willow came first.
“What did you do?” she asked.
He grinned at her. “I put together a surprise for my niece. That’s all I’m saying.”
His niece. That sounded good, felt good. It felt like a more tenuous connection, a stronger bond, like something meant to be, something unbreakable.
“Seth, you’ve done so much for us, I—”
His lips came down on hers again, cutting her off. It was a full minute—or maybe an hour—before he drew back, letting her catch her breath. “Not enough, Rowan,” he murmured. “Not enough.” He left her on the porch, and Rowan had to fight not to follow him down the stairs. “I’ll call you after lunch,” he promised before he got behind the wheel.
True to his word, the phone rang just as Rowan was washing the plates from lunch. The Caller ID sent a ripple of excitement through her, and she took a deep breath as she lifted the receiver.
“Are you ready?” came Seth’s deep-timbered voice over the phone.
Rowan’s entire body came to life. She glanced furtively at Willow, wishing that she was alone. “Ready? I…” Who wouldn’t be, when a man like Seth Barlow asked? Rowan cleared her throat. “I—”
“For the surprise,” Seth amended, and Rowan felt somewhat deflated but curious just the same.
“Yes,” she finally said. “We’re ready.” Reluctantly, she hung up the phone and turned to Willow. “Baby? Do you want to go to Snake River? To see the horses?”
Willow’s eyes lit up, and Rowan felt that the excitement was contagious, though for an entirely different reason.
“Get your boots on,” she told her. “And don’t forget your gloves.”
“Can we take apples? And hay? And—”
“Dakota will have those. We’ll have to listen to what she tells us. She’s in charge.”
Willow’s eyes widened. “She’s in charge of the whole ranch?”
“Well, no,” Rowan amended. “She’s in charge of the horses. And the Barlows have several.”
Willow stopped to consider this. “I want to be in charge of horses,” she decided.
“Really?” asked Rowan. “Horses? Not sheep?”
Willow’s nose wrinkled. “Sheep aren’t as fun.”
There was no point in arguing with a four-year-old about things like legacy and family tradition. Besides, even Rowan could admit that the girl had a point. Sheep were not as fun.
They piled into the car and headed down the highway. As far as Rowan was concerned, even knowing that Court would be there, she couldn’t get to Snake River fast enough.
Chapter Twenty-One
‡
Seth waited in the driveway with Court and Dakota, wishing there wasn’t such a large welcoming committee watching Rowan pull up. He wanted to get her alone again, as soon as possible, just to feel her pressed up against him. He merely smiled at her politely, though, as she got Willow out of the car and crossed the driveway to greet all of them.
“Hi,” said Dakota, lowering herself to meet Willow. “I’m Dakota.”
Willow grinned. “You own all the horses.”
Dakota’s grin was just as big. “Weeeeell,” she said, “I don’t own them. Not all of them. But I do feel like they’re mine.”
Seth had no doubt of that, and Dakota was entitled to that sentiment. She worked damn hard for those horses. They were all like her children—even the wildlings that could barely be roped seemed to hold a special place in the woman’s heart. The legal ownership of Snake River’s horses was just that, a legal technicality. Dakota Vasquez was their true and rightful owner, as far as Seth was concerned.
“Do you want to meet some of them?” Dakota asked Willow.
The question was met with unbridled enthusiasm, and Willow exchanged Rowan’s hand for Dakota’s as they all headed toward the horse barn.
Seth stayed back, though, letting the group get ahead of him, and Rowan did too. She glanced up at him with a barely contained grin before looking quickly away.
“Thanks for inviting us,” she said. “Willow’s looking forward to her surprise.”
“I have one for you, too,” Seth told her.
Rowan finally looked at him again. Her curious yet happy gaze made him feel warm all over. “For me?” She blushed furiously. “Seth…we can’t…I mean, this is your family’s ranch,” she whispered.
He laughed and reached for her arm, turning her gently toward the barn. “Trust me,” he said. “It’s not that kind of surprise…although now that you mention it…” He let his voice trail off and the teasing words linger for a moment as his hand slid down her arm, over her hip, and squeezed her ass. He let go quickly, though, because it would just be torturing them both to get too worked up out here in the open.
“Come on,” he finally concluded and started for the barn behind the others.
Inside the building the others were already far ahead. Nearer the barn door, the smaller office door opened, and Walker stepped out into the hall. He hesitated for a moment when he turned to the right and saw Dakota leading Willow down the aisle.
Beside Seth, Rowan’s gait faltered.
Walker finally tore his eyes from the trio in the lead and swung his head around to see Seth and Rowan bringing up the rear. His expression was dark, which was the usual these days. As they approached him, he ignored Seth and barely nodded at Rowan as he stalked toward the exit. “Rowan,” he growled, which Seth guess counted as a greeting in Walker-speak, even if it wasn’t particularly friendly.
She physically shrank from the eldest Barlow as he passed.
“Don’t worry about it,” Seth murmured, leaning in.
Rowan looked up at him with a grimace. “I’ve always been…intimidated by him,” she whispered. “I didn’t even realize he knew my name.” She watched him walk away and seemed relieved that he was leaving. “Is he…?” She glanced furtively at Willow walking ahead of them. “Is he angry?”
