Rough Stock

by Dahlia West

  Seth shook his head and sighed. “No. Well, yeah, but not at you. He and Austin have been going at it for a few days now. Seems like lately all they do is butt heads. But don’t worry about it. Honestly. It has nothing to do with you. We’re all excited to meet our niece, even Walker,” Seth told her, though that last part might be stretching the truth just a bit. “We’re not going to circle around her, though. We won’t overwhelm her. We’ll take it slow.”

  Rowan glanced at him and hesitated. “Because you told them to,” she concluded.

  Seth shrugged. “She’s four. We can’t just toss her into the deep end. I might have reminded them of that.”

  Rowan gave him a grateful smile, and they turned to follow Willow, Court, and Dakota as they took a tour of the stalls. Seth had to resist the urge to take Rowan by the hand as they walked. Just as they passed the open door, Sawyer emerged from Dakota’s office and stopped to watch them. He smiled at Willow and gave her a wave, but his eyes lit up when he spotted Rowan.

  Seth stifled a groan and put a hand at Rowan’s back, trying to herd her past him quickly, to rejoin the others.

  Undaunted, Sawyer stepped right in front of them, into the aisle and blocking their path. “Well, now,” he said with a grin, “I wondered where that jacket of his had gotten off to.” He rocked back and forth on the heels of his boots, looking pleased with himself.

  Seth watched Rowan’s hands flutter self-consciously to the fleece collar. He wanted to punch his little brother for making her uncomfortable. “Leave it, Sawyer,” he growled.

  “I…I don’t have a barn jacket,” Rowan stammered. “Seth lent me his.”

  Sawyer’s grin spread impossibly wider. “Well, that’s mighty neighborly of him.”

  “It’s cold out, Sawyer,” Seth snapped. “And she’s going through a rough time.”

  As they moved past, Sawyer replied, “I guess it’s lucky she has you, then.”

  Rowan’s stride broke again, but Seth pushed her forward. “Ignore him,” he told her.

  With Walker safely out of the vicinity and the others already headed down the next aisle of stalls, Seth snatched Rowan’s hand in his own and pulled her into a darkened, empty stall. He pushed her up against the wooden slatted wall and crushed his mouth over hers, desperate for even a small taste of what he’d gotten the previous night.

  Rowan sighed as though she’d been waiting for it, too. She melted into him, tongue teasing, fingers gripping his shoulders, one leg snaked around his.

  Seth’s own fingers twitched with the urge to unsnap, unzip, and otherwise expose her sweet, creamy flesh for him to explore. He tugged at the front of her shirt, but Rowan’s hand came down on his.

  Breathless, she shook her head. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Anyone could find us.”

  “I don’t care,” he replied. “I want to taste you, Rowan.” The memory of those taut, dusky nipples made his mouth water.

  She would only give him her tongue, though, while casting furtive glances toward the aisle.

  Seth couldn’t wait to get her in bed tonight and punish her accordingly, by laying her out in front of him and feasting on every square inch of her body. He told her as much and felt her shiver in his arms, eyes wide with astonishment.

  It angered him.

  A woman as fiery and responsive as Rowan shouldn’t have to beg for scraps from any man’s hand. She should be kissed and touched and tasted and pleasured at every opportunity. The fact that any of this was new to her was a damn shame. And Seth intended to make up for it whenever he could.

  Not now, though, because she was distracted, nervous. It only made him want the sun to go down faster.

  *

  From the indoor ring down the hall, Willow cried, “Mama!” loudly. “Mama, Mama, Mama!”

  Rowan gasped and pushed Seth away. The passion in her eyes spiked into fear.

  “It’s okay,” Seth assured her, taking her by the arm. He didn’t want her to spook the horses by running. “It’s fine, Rowan. It’s just her surprise.”

  Rowan looked at him fearfully, but he gave her a simple nod. “Come on,” he said, leading her out of the empty stall. “She’s all right. She’s just excited.”

  Rowan seemed to barely contain herself as they hurried down the aisle to the ring at the other end of the barn.

  “Careful now,” came Court’s voice, and that seemed to spur her on harder.

  As Rowan and Seth reached the end and stepped onto the packed dirt of the indoor ring, Rowan paused for a moment, taking in the scene.

  In the middle of the space, Dakota was holding a pony by a lead rope. Court and Willow were digging into a bag of alfalfa cubes and offering them to the animal. Dakota waved to assure them that everything was fine, as Seth predicted.

  Willow squealed as the pony’s lips brushed her hand. “She licked me!” she cried.

  “Lay your hand flat,” Court said. “Just like I showed you. Her name’s Caramel.”

  In this, Seth was confident that Court could be trusted. Seth’s brother wasn’t stupid—he knew horses from nose to tail, was good with them as well as safety-conscious. It was kids Court wasn’t great with. He seemed to have trouble seeing them as anything other than simply short adults.

  “He can’t screw this up,” Seth whispered to Rowan. “That pony is a giant lap dog. It’d sleep in her bed if you could get it up the stairs.”

  “Look, Mama!” Willow called. “She likes them!”

  Beside him, Rowan seemed to relax, and a smile finally played on her lips. “I see, baby. She really does.”

  Court passed the bag of treats to Dakota, lifted up Willow, and set her onto the child-sized saddle.

  “My daddy got me a pony!” she cried. “Just like I said he would!”

  Court beamed proudly, and the smile on Rowan’s face died instantly.

  “Let it go,” Seth murmured.

  “Seth,” she chastised. “This is your surprise. You got her that pony.”

  He shrugged. “It’s nothing,” he replied. “We don’t have any ponies around, and so I thought I’d try to get my hands on one for a while. It didn’t take much. Mitch Taylor keeps her for his grandkids. I saw him in town and asked if I could borrow her for a while, that’s all. It wasn’t any trouble.”

  “Oh, Seth,” Rowan breathed. “She’s so happy. You made her so happy.”

  “That’s all that matters,” he assured her. “She’s had a rough go of it, too. Away from home. Grandpa in the hospital. Willow could use a little fun in her life. It doesn’t matter who made it happen, long as it’s there.” He gave Rowan a meaningful look. “You both could use a break.”

  Rowan pursed her lips and looked away.

  He could understand the sentiment. Enjoying yourself while everything around you was falling apart felt like treason, betrayal. The guilt could be hard to swallow.

  “Can we go fast?” Willow cried, bouncing up and down in the saddle while the pony stood perfectly. “Can we go fast?!”

  Seth had to stifle a laugh. He was pretty sure that pony had only two speeds, walk or stand still and eat.

  Rowan laughed, too. “She’s perfect, Seth. Thank you so much.”

  Seth put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. It wasn’t enough, in his opinion, but it would have to do.

  Rowan left his side and crossed the indoor ring.

  “Mama!” Willow called. “She’s beeyooteeful!”

  Rowan smiled and nodded. “Yes, she is. Do remember what this one’s called? The color?”

  Willow wrinkled her nose. “Palomino!”

  “Yep,” Rowan said proudly. “Say thank you for borrowing her.”

  “Thanks, Daddy!” she shouted and went back to bouncing.

  “No,” Rowan called. “Tell Uncle Seth thank you.”

  Willow looked a bit confused but yelled out, “Thanks, Uncle Seth!”

  Court grumbled a little under his breath, but Seth was in too good a mood to let it bother him.

  There was onl
y supposed to be one kid here, anyway.

  “You can ride her as much as you want,” Seth assured the little girl. “For the next few days, anyway.”

  Willow sighed. “Can’t I keep her?”

  “Well, no,” Seth answered. “She belongs to Mr. Taylor, honey. We’ll have to give her back in a few days.”

  “But,” Court chimed in, “maybe after your mom and I get mar—”

  “Court!” Rowan practically screamed. Her face twisted in horror as she stared at him. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare say anything like that to her!”

  “Okay!” Dakota said brightly. “Let’s go for a ride!” She tugged on the lead rope and separated Willow from her feuding parents.

  For a moment, Willow looked worried as she glanced over her shoulder at Rowan and Court, but she was soon distracted by the pony ride.

  Rowan whirled on Court so quickly that Seth instinctively reached out to grab her arm and hold her back, just in case she was going to pounce on him. She didn’t, but it felt as though she was barely restraining herself. “When we get married?” she hissed. “When we get married?! Let me make this absolutely clear, Court. You and I are never getting married. You and I are nothing. Do you hear me? Absolutely nothing. We have a daughter, and I won’t keep her from you now that she knows you, but you and I…well, there is no you and I, Court.”

  Court, for his part, didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic. He simply shrugged, which elicited a throaty growl from Rowan—and an almost identical one from Seth. “You feel that way now,” he told her. “But in a few weeks—”

  “A few weeks?! Weeks? Are you kidding me? Weeks isn’t going to erase the hell you put me through, the hell I’ve lived in for five years, actually for the entire time I’ve known you.”

  Court’s gaze narrowed at her. “Come on, now,” he said, pouring on the charm. “The whole time? We had some pretty good years there, Rowan.”

  “In high school,” she spat. “And they were good years for you.”

  “Hey,” Court argued, dropping the charming cowpoke act almost as quickly as he’d put it on. “I treated you right. I—”

  Rowan snorted. “You felt up Emily Crowder at the homecoming dance when I couldn’t go because I had the flu!”

  Court gaped at her. “I…that…that was high school.”

  Seth rolled his eyes and shook his head. Outside of his element, a bar or a rodeo with a few drinks in hand and a buckle bunny half in the bag, Court didn’t seem to be able to carry on an actual conversation with a woman who didn’t already want to jump his bones. “All right,” he said, pulling Rowan to him. “Come on now.” He shot a hard gaze at Court while tugging on Rowan’s sleeve. “Let’s go,” he told her. “Let’s take a walk. Cool off. Let’s not get into a knock down drag out in front of Willow.”

  Seth steered her away and down one of the stall aisles.

  Rowan’s clipped boot heels on the poured concrete told him she was a long way from cooling down.

  “Marriage,” she bit out, looking back over her shoulder.

  Seth continued pushing her forward.

  “It’s like…It’s like he doesn’t even get that other people exist, or have thoughts or feelings of their own.”

  Seth sighed as he took her by the hand and led her closer to the second exit. “Yeah, well, I think at this point he might be a lost cause, sorry to say. But just let it go. Anyway, here’s your surprise, to take your mind off it.”

  He slid open the heavy steel bolt to one of the stalls and ushered Rowan inside. There, a saddled quarter horse mare stood, eyeing them expectantly. Seth took the bridle down from the hook on the door frame and passed it to Rowan.

  She stared at the bridle for a moment. “What’s her name?”

  Seth shrugged. “She doesn’t have one.”

  “How does she not a have name?”

  He merely shrugged again, dismissing the question. “Go on,” he encouraged. “You know how to do it. Finish tacking up so we can go.”

  “Go.”

  “On our ride.” He nodded to the stall across the aisle. “Choctaw’s just about to tear down the walls. See, that’s his very favorite mare right there, and the idea that he gets to be alone with her on a long ride is about all he can think about today. He’s getting pretty impatient.”

  Rowan laughed, despite herself, and it made Seth grin from ear to ear. “I haven’t been for a ride in a long time,” she mused.

  Seth crossed the short space between them, swept her into his arms, and dragged her mouth across her ear. “I know that, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I was inside you last night.”

  Rowan giggled again and pushed him away.

  Reluctantly, he let her go, only so she could finish up and they could get the hell away from here for a while. He left the stall and crossed to Choctaw’s, who nickered impatiently as he opened the gate. “You and me both, buddy,” Seth murmured to his horse.

  He led Choctaw out to the driveway, swung up into the saddle, and settled himself into the stirrups. Rowan came out, leading the strawberry roan Seth had chosen for her. He watched her mount, adjust her reins, and find her seat again after so many years. She looked happy, though, almost deliriously so, and that made him happy to see it.

  “You ready?” he asked her, nudging his horse forward.

  She looked back over her shoulder, though, and bit her lower lip.

  “She’s with Dakota,” Seth assured her. “She couldn’t be in better hands.”

  Rowan sighed and turned back to him. “Okay,” she finally relented. “I guess you’re right. So,” she said, falling in line next to him, “where are we going?”

  Seth grinned at her. “Anywhere you want, sweetheart. As far as the eye can see and then some.”

  Rowan looked around, toward the plains to the east then the mountains and the river to the north. “Let’s get closer,” she said, nodding toward the Tetons.

  Seth tipped his hat to her and gave Choctaw another nudge. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

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  Rowan and Seth crossed the sun-drenched valley toward the towering purple mountains beyond. Her mare was spirited but not by any means uncontrollable and reminded her of Maizie, her barrel-racing horse from her teenage years.

  “You okay?” Seth asked her, but he didn’t look concerned. He was smiling.

  Rowan grinned at him. “She’s amazing.”

  Seth nodded. “She’s not as docile as some of Dakota’s other mares. She reminds me of you in that way.”

  For some reason, he was giving her a look so heated that it made Rowan’s breath catch. She supposed she’d been looking at him the same way all afternoon. Seth had been impossible to ignore from the minute she’d met him, and keeping her eyes (and hands) off him was a real challenge right now.

  Farther along the trail, they passed an old cabin, weather worn yet still standing firm. “That’s where it all started,” Seth told her while indicating the ancient structure.

  Rowan inspected the rough-hewn logs of the walls as they rode by. “He kidnapped her, right?” she asked. “Your great-great grandfather? He roped your great-great grandmother and tied her to his saddle. He brought her here and held her prisoner. And then he—”

  Seth laughed loudly, cutting her off. “The people in town say that, if they even talk about it at all these days, which I doubt. But that’s not exactly right. Kit and Rafaela were in love,” he told her. “But her family didn’t approve of the match. And Rafaela was feisty and brave, but she’d never go against her family’s wishes. She was an honorable woman.”

  Seth nodded to the cabin. “So, Kit built her a home, with his own two hands, to prove to them he could take care of her, that he was a worthy husband. But they still said no. So one night he rode out to their property, threw a reata around her, and brought her here anyway. Her sister sounded the alarm, and Rafaela’s father chased them as far as the Snake until he lost their trail.”

  He gave her a chast
ened look. “And…yes, Kit kept her here, until she was pregnant, and her father was forced to allow them to get married. But she loved him, Rowan. She begged and pleaded with her father to let them get married. Plus, my grandmother always said that Rafaela knew. She knew when she went outside that night that Kit might take her away and make her his wife. He roped her only to spare her reputation in the town.”

  He grinned. “To them, Rafaela was a long-suffering woman who endured living out in the wilderness with a mountain-mad Barlow only by the grace of God and with the patience of a saint. But she loved it out here. And she loved him. Their days were full of hard, brutal work, and their nights were filled with passion—that’s how my grandmother always told it, anyway. But then again, she’d married a mountain-mad Barlow, and so her opinions might have been biased. Rafaela didn’t exactly write the word passion down in the family Bible.”

  Rowan blushed and looked away. She knew exactly how it felt to be roped by a Barlow and taken to bed.

  “They made love in the fields,” Seth told her.

  Rowan’s head snapped back to him. “No!”

  He nodded, chuckling. “They did. In the tall grass, among the wildflowers. My grandmother made it sound romantic enough, I guess, though I suppose it was more practical than all that. They were always with the herd, either down in the Gulch or up on the Ridge. They couldn’t afford to lose a single head in those days and so it took both of them to keep the ranch going. They say the sounds of their coupling kept the coyotes away.”

  “Oh, stop it!” Rowan laughed, waving him away.

  “It’s probably true!” he insisted with a grin. “I don’t know how you keep so quiet.”

  Rowan’s cheeks flared all the way up to her ears. How indeed, with a man like this.

  Seth lost all signs of humor as he looked at her. “I bet I can make you scream, Rowan. Loud and long. For hours.”

  “It’s too cold,” she replied in a clipped tone even though her pulse was racing. She turned her mare away and continued on the trail.

  “True,” he said, actually sounding disappointed.