Rough Stock

by Dahlia West

  Finally, Dad said, “I need a moment to consider it. Alone.”

  Despite his failing health and old age, it was as though an emperor had spoken. Both Walker and Court jumped to their feet and shuffled out the front door to wait in the cold without so much as a complaint between them.

  Rowan shut the door firmly and turned to her father.

  He sighed and finally collapsed back into his Barcalounger.

  Rowan knew he’d been struggling to maintain the appearance of a strong, virile man in the presence of younger bucks. Now that he was relaxed, he seemed pale, more wrinkled, more tired than ever before.

  This time it was Rowan who sighed. With no source of income, they’d have to sell the spread and move into town. And even if Rowan gave up nursing altogether, she wasn’t certain that she could take on the lion’s share of running the Archer farm for the rest of her life. All her earlier bravado about working two jobs and saving the place had been slowly collapsing under the weight of reality these last few weeks.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked quietly, startling Rowan out of her reverie.

  “Me?” she asked. “It’s still your ranch, Dad.”

  He nodded. “It is, but you’d have to stomach the Barlows. Far more than you probably ever thought. More’n you want to, I suspect. It’s one thing to see them at Easter, at Christmas, on Willow’s birthday. It’s another thing to see them every day.”

  “I’ll do it,” Rowan vowed fiercely.

  “Now,” Dad warned, “this isn’t something you just—”

  “I’ll do anything for Willow,” Rowan declared. “Anything for her future. We don’t lose the land this way. Things…” A hard lump settled in her throat, and she swallowed it down. “Things’ll change.” Which was exactly what she didn’t want, but they were barely hanging on at this point. Change was inevitable, apparently.

  “Rowan—”

  “Court wants to do the right thing. Even if he’s hotheaded and not quite sure of himself. And…well…we are all family now, like you said, like it or not. Walker’s right, we’re connected. And we all want the same thing.”

  Dad pursed his lips and peered at her closely. “Does the fact that you and Court have been spending so much time together these last few days have anything to do with you being okay with this? Are you…warming up to him?”

  Rowan gaped at him. “No!” she hissed. “It’s not like that, Dad. Court and I are just trying to find a way to parent Willow together, to be on the same side. We are not getting closer. We are not back together!”

  Unbelievably, her father chuckled. “Well, then. Guess I’m properly put in my place. But this is as much your land—you, Emma, and Willow—as it is mine. And I agree the deal means we can hold onto the place. But we have a history with the Barlows, but we can’t pretend all of it’s good.”

  Rowan sighed. “I…I guess the past is the past,” she finally replied. “We need to think about the future, and the future is Willow. For what it’s worth, they’d never cheat us.”

  “I don’t believe they would, either.”

  Rowan puffed out her cheeks. “Well, I think we know what the answer is, then.”

  Dad nodded, and Rowan turned. She grasped the knob and pulled before checking through the pane. Her heart lurched as she was suddenly face to face with Seth standing on the porch. Before she could say anything, Court chastised his older brother, saying, “You were supposed to wait.”

  Seth ducked his head, looking properly guilty. “Well…” he replied. “I couldn’t.” He was talking to Court, but he never took his eyes off Rowan standing in front of him.

  She moved away, without thinking, farther into the house to get away. All three men followed her inside, though. They filled the small living room again, and Rowan turned her head but found she couldn’t really redirect her gaze anywhere appropriate. She was trapped, it seemed, with nowhere to hide. She was flanked by her exes and a man who may or may not think of her as some kind of she-devil. She sneaked a quick glance at her Dad, who had a perplexed look on his face. She felt her cheeks flush, and she dropped her eyes to the floor.

  “If no one minds,” Seth drawled, “I’d like to talk to Rowan outside for a few minutes.”

  The ensuing silence was almost deafening. Rowan stifled a groan as she watched her father look back and forth between the two of them, understanding dawning in his eyes. If he disapproved, he gave no indication, which was disappointing, since it would make things so much easier. Instead, Dad said, “Well, go on then. I’ve got enough to discuss with your brothers. Just shut the door behind you.”

  She couldn’t argue without causing a scene. Reluctantly, she took her coat off the hook and slipped it on. She followed Seth out the door and though she really didn’t want anyone to overhear them, she dreaded getting farther away from the house, where being alone with him might have terrible consequences.

  She might yell. She might hit him. She might kiss him in some pathetic display of weakness. If she’d thought to bring one of the guns, the possibilities expanded—or narrowed depending on your point of view.

  “Rowan, I am so, so sorry for the way things went between us. I’ve been so torn up about it, can’t stop thinking about you. I missed you,” he said as they headed off the porch and closer to the barn.

  Rowan didn’t reply. Because missing him was a given. Letting him back into her life, though…was not.

  “Did you take the offer?” he asked, ignoring the fact that she was ignoring him. “It’s a good deal. And it’ll make things so much easier.” He finally stopped, like he couldn’t make it any farther. He smiled at her, and it irritated Rowan that he still had the power to command her attention with a single look. “And Court’s okay,” he continued, speaking fast now like an overanxious child. “Or he will be. He understands it’s over between you two. He’s willing to step back and let us be. He’s—”

  The smile faded from his lips as Rowan shook her head. “You didn’t fight for us,” she accused.

  Seth rocked back on his heels as though she’d struck out at him. “I did! Rowan, I did! I put him on the ground. I told him the way it was going to be. You saw his face. I did that! That was me, telling him that you’re mine.”

  Part of her wanted so much to believe him, to believe in him, that it would last this time. But how many times could she be made a fool of? Be made to hurt this badly? How long would it take for her to learn, really learn, that the Barlows brought with them nothing but heartache?

  She may not have a ranch to run after today, but she had a life to live, and she wasn’t going to spend the rest of it looking over her shoulder, always waiting for some disaster to hit, for the other shoe to drop. She took a deep breath and surprised even herself a little when she said, “Too little, too late, Seth.”

  Seth gaped at her. “Rowan! You can’t mean that. I’m sorry! I was overwhelmed before! I didn’t know what to do. But I’m taking care of it now, of you.” He spread his hands out expansively. “Now you don’t have to worry about the ranch, the bills. And we can be toge—”

  “Don’t pretend this is for me, for us. You get grazing land at a discount, just more acres swallowed up by the Snake River Ranch.”

  “Rowan, that is not what this is about!”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Really? You didn’t put down an offer on the mine outside of town? Because I heard you did.”

  Seth blinked, clearly caught off guard. “I…that’s business! We need that land to—”

  Rowan nodded. “Business,” she replied in a clipped tone. “And that’s what this is. Just business. I can’t work two jobs and take care of Willow. My dad doesn’t want to lose the deed on the land. So, we’ll take your offer. After all, it’s just business.”

  She started to turn, and Seth reached for her arm. She jerked it out of his reach. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed.

  “Rowan, don’t do this,” he pleaded. “Don’t throw away what we have.”

  “I didn’t. You d
id. Don’t come here again. You can use the land, but don’t come up to the house. You’ve rented our pasture, Seth Barlow, but you haven’t rented me.”

  She walked away from him then, feeling strangely satisfied about finally being the one to do so. She let the front door slam behind her as she entered the house. The interior only felt marginally warmer than outside, or maybe she was just too upset to be comforted by it right now.

  “Well,” Dad said awkwardly, eyes tracking Rowan as she stalked past the men gathered in the living room. “You go ahead and draw up the papers and bring them by.”

  Court gave Willow one last kiss and plopped her down on the couch. He took a step toward Rowan, but she turned away, unable to look at him, any of them.

  “Thank you, Mr. Archer,” said Walker in his deep baritone. “We’ll be by tomorrow.”

  She heard the door close and fished a plate out of the cabinet, intent on fixing lunch. Willow happily jumped into a chair and began munching on her sandwich. Rowan gave her a plastered smile. It fooled the little girl but not the grizzled man who came to stand next to her.

  “Guess I had the wrong brother,” Dad said quietly.

  Rowan ignored him.

  “It’s good, Rowan,” her father told her. “It’s a good thing.”

  She reached for a glass and filled it with tap water. “I know. It’ll be easier on you. No heavy lifting. No shearing. No lambing,” she said, pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about.

  “Honey—”

  “I’d really rather not get into it right now, Dad.”

  “But Rowan—”

  Rowan turned and gave him a sharp look. “Not now, Dad. Okay?” She nodded meaningfully at Willow. “Later. Just…later.” She hoped she could put it off forever. She loved him and would do anything for him, but her personal life was really none of his business. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, and he didn’t get to have a running commentary on how she lived her life.

  “Willow, sweetie,” he said, turning his attention away from Rowan. “Grab a cookie and head to your room to play a little.”

  Her eyes lit up, and it was too late for Rowan to rescind the offer. It seemed her dad was determined to have this out now, in spite of what she wanted. Rowan sighed heavily. It seemed no one in her life gave a damn about what she wanted.

  Once Willow was safely ensconced in her room, Rowan glared down at her father but couldn’t manage to sustain her anger. He still looked weak, skin papery, eyes drooping, from his medical ordeal. It was hard to fault him. He only cared about her. Hell, he and Emma might be the only two people on Earth who did.

  “I don’t want to talk, Dad,” she insisted.

  “Then I’ll talk, you listen.”

  Rowan crossed her arms and waited.

  “I did the best I could with you and Emma,” he reminded her. “I didn’t always get it right. I made more than a few mistakes. But my heart was in the right place. I don’t know what happened between you and Seth, but I saw the way he looked at you. That was the face of a man who’s made the wrong decision, honey, and knows it.”

  “Well, it’s too late now,” she snapped.

  “It is not too late, Rowan. It’s never too late, not while you have breath in your lungs and a beat in your heart and a man who obviously loves you. A good man, Rowan. I’ve known Seth Barlow for his entire life, and he is a good man. And whatever he did, it wasn’t like Court. I know it. No one needs to tell me that. Whatever happened between you and Seth, it wasn’t that he treated you poorly or did you dirty. I won’t believe it. I won’t.”

  Rowan shook her head. No. Seth didn’t do her dirty, and angry as she was, she’d never let anyone think that he did. Court deserved his reputation as a dog, but Seth didn’t. Still, he’d wounded her deeply. Possibly more so than Court ever could. Because it had been so unexpected, so shocking. One minute Rowan had been on top of the world, her own little corner of it, anyway. And the next she’d been knocked into the dirt, teeth first.

  “It can’t work,” she said, giving her father Seth’s line.

  “Rowan—”

  “It wasn’t my decision. It was his. He walked away. And he doesn’t get to come back now just because he feels like it.”

  That felt too much like Court, even if it wasn’t fair to compare the two men that way.

  “He didn’t do anything wrong, Dad. Not like you’re saying. But he already left once. And he might do it again.” She was on the verge of letting tears fall, letting it take over. She pushed in the kitchen chair roughly.

  “Honey…”

  Rowan swallowed hard, using every ounce of control she had left to get the words out without crying. “I gave my heart to two men, Daddy. And neither one of them gave it back. I just…I just can’t. The only little piece I have left now is for Willow. And you. And Emma. Seth was right about one thing. Family is all that matters.”

  He frowned at her and reached for her hand.

  She pulled it away, though not as violently as she had with Seth.

  He sighed. “Rowan, you could be happy.”

  “I am happy, Dad!” She flinched at the pitch of her own voice, worried he’d be upset.

  He smirked at her instead, for a moment, before his features softened again. “You’re afraid. And I can understand that, but—”

  “I am not afraid, Daddy. I’m angry. And I’m tired, tired of being chewed up and spit out by the Barlows. I’m tired of being used and then tossed to the side of the road like so much trash.” When she lifted her head, her father wasn’t looking at her but past her.

  Rowan turned to see Seth standing in the doorway, hat in hand.

  She slammed down Willow’s half-empty glass, sloshing milk onto the kitchen table. “I’ll finish this later,” she grumbled. She stood up straight, squared her shoulders, and didn’t give Seth another look as she strode past him and up the stairs. She was grateful that she managed to hold back fresh tears every single step of the way until she was safely locked in her bedroom.

  She was not afraid, damn it.

  She was tired.

  And she was angry.

  And she’d been hurt too many times.

  But she was not afraid.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

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  Seth pulled into the Archer driveway again the next day, just after sunrise, and killed his truck’s engine. As he got out, Mac waved to him from the porch, coffee in hand. “Mornin’!” the old man called.

  Seth returned the greeting as he sauntered toward the house. He searched for Rowan as he moved, steeling himself for her onslaught once she spotted him on the property.

  From behind Rowan’s father, Rowan herself appeared in the window, holding back the curtain and frowning intensely.

  Seth blew out a harsh breath that fogged in the chilly air.

  As his boot hit the top of the steps, the front door opened, and Rowan slipped out. She was clad in a brand-new jacket, similar to his own but not the same. Seth’s jaw twitched as he looked at it. He didn’t like it. And apparently Rowan still didn’t like him, not judging by the way she was eyeing him warily.

  “Why are you—?” she demanded.

  “I called him,” Mac declared, making his daughter hesitate.

  Rowan turned to him, lips in a perfect O. “You? Why? Why would you call him?”

  Mac took a long, slow sip of his coffee, infuriating Rowan even more, apparently, because she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Or maybe she was cold. Maybe Seth should rip that jacket off her and give her his own.

  “Well, now,” said Mac, “we’re three days behind on shearing. And I can’t lift ’em, or even get down in the dirt with ’em, and you can’t strip ’em all on your own.”

  Rowan glared at him. “Emma’s off work at five today.”

  Mac snorted. “You’ll be up to your eye teeth in wool by noon,” he predicted. “Back breakin’, legs achin’. I’ve been doing this job for more years than I can fit candles on a birthday cake, Rowan. Not th
at I can have birthday cake anymore,” he grumbled. “But I know how it goes. And you’ll be in the hospital by the end of the week if you don’t get some help out here.”

  Rowan turned to Seth and huffed loudly. “Do you even know how to shear a sheep?” she asked.

  Seth shook his head. “No, I don’t. But I take down calves for vaccinations and tagging every spring. I can wrangle them for you, do all the heavy lifting.”

  She glared at him. “You can’t toss them around like calves. They’re pregnant. You have to be careful with them.”

  Seth watched as her hands flexed in irritation. Her knuckles were raw, and the skin was near to cracking. Seth guessed it was impossible to wear gloves while shearing. He wanted to press them between his own, warm them and soothe them—and her—but he kept a polite distance. “I’ll be gentle,” he promised quietly. “I’d never hurt them.”

  She frowned like she didn’t believe him at all. “Where’s Court?” she asked, though it looked as if she were chewing glass just to say his name.

  “He’s on the range with the others, bringing in the herd for calving. We agreed I should come help.”

  She snorted. “So, you’re passing me back and forth between you?”

  Seth’s jaw twitched, and even her father made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat.

  Rowan must have regretted her words, because she lowered her head and fiddled with the sleeve of her new jacket rather than look either of them in the eye. “I…I guess I could use some help. While Emma’s at her job in town,” she added quickly.

  “Well then, that’s that,” said Mac, clapping his hands lightly. “I’m going back inside to watch Spongeboob with my granddaughter.”

  “Bob,” Seth and Rowan corrected at the same time.

  Mac shrugged. “Seems like a damn boob to me.”

  Together, Rowan and Seth cordoned off the herd, using the dogs to gather them in the paddock next to the barn. Rowan set up a swinging gate, plugged in a frightening-looking pair of clippers (that he hoped she wouldn’t use on him), and gestured to the dogs to single the first ewe from the flock and herd her into the barn.