Rough Stock

by Dahlia West

  She was tired of having her life ruled over by Court, or the idea of Court coming back into their lives, wreaking havoc, or the memory of how he’d hurt her. She deserved happiness, and she was going to take it. She’d give him a few days, because Willow didn’t need to see her daddy acting like a belligerent child, but Court Barlow was done interfering in her life. She knew what she wanted now, had a right to it, and Goddamn it, she’d punch him out if he had any more to say about it.

  She’d all but delivered that speech to him—in her head, at least—when she heard a vehicle in the driveway and turned to see Emma’s car pulling up to the house. She stifled a groan and replaced the dishtowel. Oh, well, she thought as the front door opened. It was good practice, anyway, dealing with unsupportive siblings. Emma had made her feelings known, even before there had really been anything to know.

  Luckily, Rowan had grown used to the fact that nothing in her life came easy. She drew herself up, squared her shoulders, and watched her protective older sister come into the farmhouse’s tiny kitchen. Though the two sisters had been separated for a few years now, Emma seemed to realize immediately that trouble was brewing. Even in the midst of all their tension of the last few days, Rowan missed her sister fiercely and was glad to be back home with her.

  They’d argue, get past this, and take care of Dad and the farm, together, because no matter what, they were family.

  And family came first.

  Emma frowned at her. “You look like you’re about to pull out my hair.”

  “I’m not,” Rowan said cautiously.

  Emma’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got a bruise on your neck. Or maybe it’s a hickey.”

  Rowan had all but forgotten her showdown with the wolf. Quickly she grabbed at the fabric of her shirt and tugged at it.

  Emma’s shrewd eyes bored into her. “Wait,” she said. “Is that a hickey? Or…?” She came forward, and Rowan tried to back away. Emma was too fast, though, and the room was too small. She pulled the collar of Rowan’s T-shirt down so hard the fabric nearly ripped. “What the hell is that?!” she cried.

  “Nothing,” Rowan insisted. “I had an accident.”

  “An accident? What happened? Did you fall in the barn? Why didn’t you call me?”

  Rowan sighed. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

  “What happened?” Emma demanded.

  “I…after you left the other day…there was a wolf.”

  “A wolf?!”

  “Some wolves,” Rowan corrected, because Willow might tell Emma the truth.

  “And you didn’t call me?!”

  “You were working, and I didn’t want to upset you. It’s been enough, with Dad. I didn’t want to add to it.”

  “Damn it,” Emma huffed. “I should take more time off.”

  “If you take any more days off, they’ll fire you. It wasn’t a big deal. We didn’t lose any head. Everything’s fine.”

  “Still, you should’ve called me. Troy could’ve come out. He should anyway. How many were there? Did they come back last night? Are there tracks? Are they—?”

  “Don’t get worked up, Emma. They’re gone. They’re not coming back.”

  Emma’s eyes narrowed again. “What does that mean?”

  “Their alpha’s dead.”

  “You buried it?”

  Rowan didn’t reply.

  “So you shot a wolf and didn’t call me. But you called someone. Who? Do I even have to ask? Seth Barlow, is that who you called?”

  Rowan bit her lower lip. “I didn’t call him,” she said lamely. “He just showed up.”

  “Yeah, and then what?”

  Emma stood in the kitchen, hand on her hip, waiting for an answer.

  Rowan knew she wasn’t getting out of it.

  “He stayed,” she confessed.

  “He stayed.”

  “He was worried about me! He was there when I got knocked down.”

  Emma stared at her. “When you got knocked down? By a wolf?!”

  “It’s not a big deal!”

  “Well, it was a big enough deal that Seth Barlow apparently spent the night. He was worried about you! I guess I don’t have to ask where he slept.”

  “I don’t want to argue, Em.”

  Emma sighed. “I’m just scared for you, Rowan. You’re just barely out of all that shit now, and you had to get here by yourself, get your degree, raise your daughter. You’re finally back on your feet, and I just don’t want to see you get knocked down again. Not by a wolf. Not by Court. Not by Seth.”

  “Seth wouldn’t do that. He’s not like Court. Not at all. This is different. He’s different.”

  There was a thump on the stairs, and Willow appeared, carrying Wooliam. Rowan gave Emma a sharp look to silence her as she poured cereal into a bowl.

  “Can we see Daddy again? And Caramel?” the girl asked, sliding onto one of the kitchen chairs.

  “Who’s Caramel?” Emma asked.

  Willow beamed. “My daddy got me a pony! Just like I said he would.” She turned to Rowan. “Can we go see her again? Please?”

  “We…might have to wait a few days, honey,” Rowan replied.

  Emma didn’t say anything, but she raised an eyebrow.

  Rowan led her sister outside, out of earshot. “Court found out about us,” she said quietly after the front door closed.

  “How well did that go?”

  Rowan frowned. “About as well as you’d expect. Seth took a swing at him after Court said some nasty things.”

  Emma snorted. “Glad someone finally did.”

  “We should give it some time,” Rowan mused. “For him to get used to the idea.”

  “The idea that what, Rowan? That you and Seth are in love? Together forever? Soulmates?” Emma pressed. “I don’t think Court’s the only one who has to get used to this. If you were anyone else, I’d say Seth’s last name is blinding you right now. You wanted a Barlow so badly, for so long, you’ll take any of them.”

  “Emma, I’m not blind! And I’m not stupid. And you know what? Court didn’t even get Willow that pony. Seth did. And he didn’t take any credit for it, either. Willow wants to believe her daddy got her a pony, and so Seth let her believe it, because he cares about her.”

  “I didn’t say he was a bad guy, Rowan.”

  “Well, he’s not a bad guy! He’s a great guy! He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to us.”

  Emma raised a hand, though, and her face softened. “I’m not going to argue with you. I know you well enough to know it won’t do any good. And I can’t say I blame you, not entirely anyway. It’s been a long time since you’ve had anything good in your life except Willow. I can see why you’d be desperate to grab it and hang onto it.”

  Rowan bristled. “I’m not desperate, Emma.”

  But Emma shook her head. “You’re playing with fire, Rowan. And I have a bad feeling you’re the only one who’s going to end up getting burned.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ‡

  Seth stood alone in the barn, paralyzed by indecision over who needed help most. Walker’s self-imposed isolation made so much more sense now. The idea, true or not, that Dad had killed himself in a last desperate bid to save Snake River was one hell of a secret. And Walker shouldn’t have to carry that burden alone. The fact that he’d tried to at all was a testament to how committed he was to taking care of his younger siblings.

  Gabe, though not related by blood, had always felt like a brother, to all of them, simply by virtue of having grown up together. Now that he’d discovered that Rafe was more or less responsible for Manny’s death, who knew what the man was feeling right now?

  And Court had inadvertently wandered onto the scene of a head-on collision. Given what he was already dealing with, a second piece of devastating news could capsize the boat he was working so hard to keep afloat.

  Seth could feel himself being pulled in every possible direction and felt his family precariously on the verge of being torn apart, as we
ll. Part of him was raging at Walker for not telling them what he suspected, however much or little proof there was. They deserved to know. It was probably best to leave him on his own for now. Out of all of them, Seth was certain Walker could deal with the situation on his own, for now at least.

  Seth had no idea what to say to Gabe. Such a huge betrayal, coming from the Barlows, he wasn’t certain there was anything anyone could say to make it right, or apologize enough. Sofia and Dakota would know soon enough, as well. Seth could only pray that the rift that was certain to form between the two families could someday be healed.

  It seemed like too much to try and take on, so that only left Court and their unfinished business. Seth made his way slowly to the bunkhouse, trying to rehearse what he’d say in his head, that Court wasn’t necessarily a bad man and that even though there was no hope for him and Rowan, that didn’t mean that hope didn’t exist at all.

  He slipped inside to keep the wind out and looked around the main room but didn’t see Court or even Sawyer anywhere. Court’s room was off the kitchen, and Seth stood in front of it, willing himself to knock and get it over with. He lifted his hand, knuckles at the ready, when he heard a familiar, sharp click from the other side of the door.

  Panic seized him. He reached down and grasped the knob. When it didn’t turn, Seth stepped back and slammed his body into the flimsy wooden door, splintering the frame as it burst open into Court’s bedroom. There, on the edge of the bed, sat Court…with a revolver in his hands.

  Seth snatched at the cocked pistol, closing his hand around it while pushing it away from them both, so no one would get hurt if it went off. Court struggled, just a bit, and Seth, in a moment of desperation, clocked him in the jaw with his left hand, causing Court to finally let go of the gun. Seth backed up across the room, getting himself and the revolver far out of Court’s reach. His back slammed into the far wall, and he had to brace himself against the dresser to catch his breath. When he finally did, he shouted, “What the hell are you thinking?!” His voice echoed off the thin walls.

  Court looked up at him plaintively, suddenly looking for all the world like the little boy Seth remembered as they were growing up. “I…” he said quietly and wiped his mouth with a shaking hand. “I have an insurance policy.”

  Seth stared at him, wide eyed, unable to comprehend the words.

  “It’s not much.” He shrugged. “I figured with the rodeo, I might get hurt. Maybe worse. Might break my neck.”

  “Court…”

  For the first time since barging into the room, Seth noticed a rag on the bed, and a bottle of stock oil.

  Court followed his gaze. “They wouldn’t know, either,” he declared. “It’d just be an accident. Gun went off while I was cleaning it.”

  “We would know!” Seth shot back.

  Unbelievably, Court shrugged again. “Well, we all know about Dad now. We’ll all have to live with it. I mean…” he said with a dour laugh, gesturing to the revolver in Seth’s hand. “you will.”

  “Court, this is not the way to—”

  “What good am I?” Court snapped. “What use am I to anyone, really? I hear what you all say about me. I’m lazy. I don’t take things seriously. Rowan hates me. Willow—”

  “Willow loves you,” Seth said through clenched teeth.

  “She doesn’t know me.”

  “She doesn’t need to! She’s just a kid. As far as she’s concerned, you’re her daddy, and that’s all there is to it.”

  Court sighed and seemed to consider Seth’s words, and Seth felt instantly buoyed by that fact, until his little brother said, “I just need time. With Rowan. Time to make her see.”

  Seth wanted to argue, wanted with every fiber of his being to speak up and remind Court that things between him and Rowan were over, ancient history. But the revolver weighed so heavy in his hand.

  “Don’t take them away from me,” Court suddenly begged. “Don’t do it. You could have any woman.”

  Seth wanted to scream. Indeed, inside he was raging against all of this. He didn’t want any woman. He wanted Rowan. But he’d already lost so much. So, so much. His mother. His father. And now his brother was on the edge of slipping away, as well. Seth had done everything for this man, their whole lives. Finished Court’s homework, made sure he got to the school bus on time, beat his ass when he caught Court smoking behind the barn when they were teenagers.

  His whole life, Seth had sacrificed for his family. Given up his time, pushing his patience to the limits. He was tired of it, to be sure. But there was the gun, the warm, solid steel leaving impressions in his palm as Seth gripped it tightly. He could take it, sure, hide it away. But there were others. Not that Court needed them. A rope, a knife. A snowstorm. There were a thousand ways to die in these wild lands…and Seth couldn’t lose another family member.

  “All right,” he said, carrying the pistol with him to the splintered door. “All right.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  ‡

  Rowan saw Seth pull up to the house at the exact moment she’d been thinking about him. Which wasn’t much of a coincidence—she always seemed to be thinking about him. If she wasn’t so damn tired, she’d run across the yard and fling herself into his arms, such was her excitement to see him again. But as it was, she merely managed to put down the bucket she was holding and wipe her hands on her jeans as he walked toward the barn to where she was standing.

  She took a step toward him but stopped up short when she saw the look on his bruised face, though. “What…what’s wrong? Did you fight again?” She rolled her eyes. Rowan was almost ready to get in the car, drive to Snake River, and punch Court Barlow herself. This was getting ridiculous! She was entitled to a life, damn it. And a happy one!

  She and Seth were in love, even though he’d never said as much. Yet. He didn’t have to. The way he looked at her, the way he’d held her after they’d made love, she knew he felt the same way she did, like she’d finally found something even after she’d given up searching.

  She sighed, exasperated. “Well, he’ll get over it. He’ll just have to—”

  But Seth shook his head. “It’s not going to work, Rowan.”

  She froze. The anguish in his voice washed over her, cold as the wind that whipped at her face now. “It’s not going to work?” she repeated numbly. “What do you mean, it’s not going to work?”

  “With us,” he replied quietly. “It’s not going to work with you and me.”

  Rowan blinked at him, dumbfounded. “It is working. Seth, I haven’t felt anything like this ev—”

  “He can’t handle it,” Seth interrupted.

  Rowan shook off her momentary stupor and gave in to the fire rising inside her. “Well, I don’t care if he can handle it! Screw him! I don’t care if Court crawls under a rock, curls up, and dies. After the way he left me—”

  Seth’s face twisted in pain. “He tried to kill himself, Rowan.”

  She stared at him, unable to process the words for a moment as her hands flew to her mouth, as though she could somehow take back her horrible words. “Is he all right? Where is he? Is—?”

  “He’s okay. For now. I got to him in time. But…Rowan…he’s in a dark place right now. Real dark.”

  “But suicide?! How could he do that? Why would he even think—?”

  “Dad killed himself. He rode out into that storm to die. For us, for the money, so we could keep going. It wasn’t an accident,” he told her.

  The breath seemed forced from Rowan’s lungs. Her head swam, and she nearly lost her balance. “Oh God! Oh God. Oh Seth, I’m so sorry! That’s so awful. That’s—”

  She reached for him instinctively, to comfort him, but he pulled away. For the first time since Rowan had been back to Star Valley, Seth kept her at a distance. And it hurt more than she could have believed possible. More than Court cheating. More than taking Willow to the park where other kids’ daddies played with them.

  She felt gutted, soulless.

&n
bsp; “Seth, don’t,” she whispered. “Please. Don’t leave me.”

  The look on his face mirrored the pain she felt twisting in her belly. “I have to do what’s right for my family,” he replied.

  “Seth—”

  “My father killed himself, Rowan. That’s how much he was willing to sacrifice for us. If…if I can’t even give up…the thing I want most, for Court…” His voice broke then, and he looked away, toward the mountains, their mountains.

  The setting sun, with its layers of red and gold, felt so goddamn significant that Rowan choked back a sob.

  “I’ll always be here,” he promised. “Anything you need.”

  “We need you,” she countered.

  “With the farm.”

  “We need you, Seth,” Rowan cried, but all he did was shake his head. Rage boiled inside her at being abandoned, yet again. And this time, well, this time it was her own damn fault, wasn’t it? For being so trusting, for daring to hope. “Then go!” she screamed. And if he didn’t want to touch her, well, that was just too damn bad, because Rowan lifted her arms and shoved him as hard as she could.

  His large, muscled frame barely moved an inch in the wake of her fury, and that made her even more angry. She pushed again, and this time, either she’d done a better job, or he let her think it, because he moved back, away from her, out of reach again.

  “Go!” she shouted again. “And don’t ever come back. I don’t ever—ever—want to see your face again. I’ll let this place catch fire!” she declared. “Struck by lightning and burn to the fucking ground before I’ll ever ask you for anything again!”

  To her horror, Rowan watched as Seth did just that. Head hanging, he turned and walked back to his truck. Bile rose in her throat as he opened the driver’s-side door, slid in, and closed it firmly, shutting her out for real now. As he drove away, a sob finally wrenched from her, and Rowan pressed both her hands—hard—into her belly, trying to physically push it back down.

  It spilled out of her, though. Tears, and sobs, and long, keening cries. She reached out blindly for the side of the barn, laying her palm against it to keep herself from sinking into the mud beneath her feet. She failed, though. Her knees buckled, and the splashes on her jeans turned to darkened stains as she knelt on the cold ground.