by Dahlia West
“Stormy,” he said.
“What?!” Rowan gasped.
“She named the calf Stormy. And the lamb’s Cloud. Stormy and Cloud.”
Rowan craned her neck to stare at him and then burst into laughter.
“She’s four,” Seth chuckled. “It’s not bad for a four-year-old.”
“Can we keep her?!” Willow shouted.
Rowan frowned. “Baby, these aren’t our cows,” she replied. “I explained this. We’re just leasing the land.”
“She’s on the small side,” Seth told Rowan quietly. “Won’t fetch a good price at market, coming as early as she did and underweight. You could keep the mama and the calf. It’ll be good milk. Good farm work for Willow. And your dad, too.”
Rowan shrugged out of his hold and turned on him instantly. The laughter on her lips just moments ago had melted into a thin, harsh line. “Seth, I appreciate you helping us like this. I do. But you can’t do this. This is just like Court. You can’t buy us, Seth. We’re not for sale.”
Seth grabbed her upper arms and held her firmly in place. “I am not trying to buy you, Rowan,” he growled. “Now, you say what you want about me, that I hurt you, that I screwed up, and I’ll admit it. But I am not trying to buy you off. I want Willow to have the life I had, that we both had, and you do too! There’s a little girl in all this. And two farms to try and hold onto. And none of that is going to wait for us to sort out our shit.”
He kissed her then, harder than he meant to, because he couldn’t help himself. He crushed his mouth to hers. For a moment, Rowan tried to pull away, but Seth let go of one of her arms and cradled the back of her head with his hand. He tasted her, devoured her, dipping his tongue into her mouth like a starving man. Which he supposed he was. It was hell standing next to her all day every day and having to keep his hands—and every other part of him—himself.
Rowan’s cries of protest turned to panting mewls. She parted her lips wider, urging him inside. Her fingers dug into the lapels of his jacket, clawing, dragging, clinging, anything to keep him close, it seemed.
Finally Seth pulled away, leaving both of them panting.
“Mama?”
Willow had come up to the fence and was eyeing them both curiously. “Can we keep Stormy? And Cloud? Please?”
Rowan wiped her mouth and then waved her hand at her daughter. “I…I…yes, baby. Uncle Seth said you could. You can keep them.”
Willow whooped and hollered and forgot, at least for the time being, that she’d just seen her mother and her uncle lose control for a moment. Which was probably what Rowan had intended, a distraction to prevent awkward questions.
When the little girl was far enough away, distracted once more by her tiny little friends, Seth cupped Rowan’s face and kissed her again, softer this time, more like he should. Thankfully, now that Rowan half-expected it, she didn’t fight him or push him away. Despite his best efforts to contain himself, they both came away breathless again, struggling to put their senses in order. Seth could tell it was the same for her from the way she was still clutching at his jacket.
Holden Gray turned up that moment, causing Seth to curse under his breath but plaster on a smile. He let go of Rowan and moved away from her as Gray turned his large Featherlite trailer around in the driveway.
Mac shook Gray’s hand as they finalized the sale of all the Archers’ sheep (save two) while Rowan and Seth carefully laid down the loading ramp and erected temporary fencing from the barn door to the chute that would load the ewes and their lambs. Mac was stoic, handling it better than Seth might have. After the sheep were loaded and ready for the long haul to Cody, Seth watched Rowan slide the barn door shut with a stinging finality that he could see cut her to the bone.
She disappeared around the side of the barn, and Seth followed her, sweeping her into his arms and holding her tightly. He felt her shake a little against him and knew she was crying. He smoothed back her hair with one hand and leaned down to her ear. “I’m still here,” he whispered. “And you’re still here. And our mountains are right there.” He gestured to them with one arm.
Stretching out before them was a field of lavender, having bloomed while they were both probably too damn busy with shearing and lambing to really notice it. Beyond that lush sea of purple and silver, the snow-capped peaks towered in the distance, cutting into the sky, demanding to take their place in this world and crown it.
“This isn’t the end, Rowan. I promise.”
But it felt like it was.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
‡
Rowan clutched at Seth and held onto him like he was the only thing she had left in this world. She’d already lost her flock, had almost lost her father. Seth held onto her tightly in return, as if to prove he wasn’t going anywhere. Despite her anger and hurt feelings, she didn’t want to let go.
“It’s not over,” he repeated. “We’re just making a new beginning. You and me.”
God, she wanted a new beginning, but she wasn’t certain she could make the leap, try again. Indeed, instead of moving toward him, she started to take a step back, out of his arms.
But Seth wouldn’t let her go, not without a fight, just like that kiss minutes ago that had left her breathless. Everything she’d ever wanted for herself had been in that kiss…and everything she had to lose.
Rowan shook her head. “Seth, I can’t—”
“You can,” he argued.
She pushed him away, though, because if she lost one more thing, especially the thing she wanted most, she would die. “It’s too much,” she argued while twisting out of his embrace.
He finally let her go and she stumbled away, to safety, to solitude.
“This isn’t over, Rowan,” he called after her.
*
It was just an hour after sunrise a few days later when Rowan heard Willow call out, “Uncle Seth!” from somewhere on the other side of the barn, which was odd because Rowan hadn’t heard a truck pull into the driveway. She finished filling the feed bin for Cloud and his mother as Mac finished tossing a few flakes of hay into the small pen.
Outside, she discovered that Willow was right, Seth had appeared. He just hadn’t come by truck. He crossed the field next to the house riding his horse and leading the mare Rowan had ridden with him before.
Rowan had to snatch Willow’s sleeve to keep her from climbing the fence.
“Can we go for a ride?!” the little girl shouted, nearly breathless from excitement.
Seth smiled. “Well, this is work, sweetheart. There’s a problem with the fenceline and I was hoping your mom could come give me a hand with fixing it. We’ll take you along next time.”
Willow’s lower lip jutted. “Awww.”
“How about when we get back, you and I go?” he offered.
“Promise?”
“Sure thing.” He tapped his saddle horn. “You can ride with me. And Choctaw’ll take us anywhere you want to go.”
“All the way to the mountains?”
He laughed. “Well, that’s pretty far, and we’d need to be back long before dark. But I’ll take you closer. I know where there’s a bend in the river, with the prettiest view you’ve ever seen. We’ll all go at some point. But right now, your mama and I have some things to take care of, okay?”
“Okay,” Willow replied slightly grudgingly, but the promise of a long ride seemed to placate her a little.
Excited to ride again, even if it was just to fix the fence line, Rowan took the reins from Seth and swung herself up into the saddle. The mare snorted and pawed at the packed earth, ready to run. Rowan reached out and patted her neck, already feeling a connection with the animal.
Mac pulled Willow to him to keep her a safe distance from the horses and Rowan saw the two men nod to each other meaningfully.
Rowan’s brow furrowed, and she was about to ask where they were going, which portion of the fence was down, when Seth suddenly turned Choctaw and sped off with no more than a joyous whoop.
> Rowan’s mare itched to follow, as did Rowan herself, but she held tightly onto the reins, keeping her mount steady as she looked at her father. “What’s—”
But Dad just nodded at Seth’s retreating form. “Better catch up.” He waved and Willow mimicked him. With nothing left to say on the matter, Rowan turned the mare and didn’t even have to give her a squeeze. Letting go of the reins was all it took to send the mare speeding off after their boys.
It was as exhilarating as she remembered, and they caught them quickly, pulling up alongside and settling into a comfortable lope. Rowan had no idea where they were headed, but she didn’t care. Yellow arrowleaf flowers and silvery lavender were just starting to bloom, and the Tetons were white-capped blue behemoths standing strong against a clear sky.
She could see the Barlows’ herd, way off in the distance, standing together, but they raced away from the cattle, toward the river. Seth veered away from it, though, too, gradually snaking their way toward the only tree that stood in this section of the Archer grazing lands.
A few yards away, he slowed Choctaw to a walk, then a halt. The large paint horse huffed a bit, but he was used to these kinds of workouts. Rowan’s mare apparently was, too, because she only seemed irritated that they’d stopped so soon.
Seth held out his hand to a puzzled Rowan. When she didn’t respond, he nodded to the tree. “Go look,” he told her.
She hesitated, not seeing anything wrong with the barbed wire strung out before them, but passed him the mare’s reins and slipped out of the saddle.
“The tree,” he told her.
Leaving them behind, Rowan made her way closer to the cottonwood. As it came more sharply into view, the long-familiar sight of the trunk and its letters, which marked the passage of time in terms of love and family, hearts and heartache, had…changed.
All her family members’ initials were there, but below them her own initials were scratched out now, like Court’s beside them, leaving a marred spot where Rowan’s past had stood plainly for the world to see. Farther down, though, were fresh marks—light tan, almost white where the bark had been recently stripped away. New letters had been carved there. She reached out and rubbed them with her fingers.
RA+SB
Rowan stared at the timeline of her life that had now, after so much time, jumped forward, that had a future. No longer was she RA, etched alone in the trunk of an isolated tree in the Wyoming wilderness. There was someone beside her.
A whole new man, a whole new start, a whole new life. If she was brave enough to take it.
Seth Barlow had carved himself into her life.
She heard his footsteps as he came up beside her. “There’s no scratching me out,” he told her. “Because I’m not leaving. And if you can forgive me, just this once Rowan, I will be here, by your side, forever. I can’t promise I won’t make any more mistakes, but I can promise I’ll never leave again. My fate’s tied to yours now, through the land and my love for you. I will never leave you again. Please. Please take me at my word. I don’t have anything. I’ve got no money, nothing at all, nothing but my own two hands, but I swear to you I’ll never let go again.”
“My family tree,” she said.
“This is my family, too, Rowan,” he whispered in her ear. “You. And Willow.” His hands slid across her belly, and he splayed his fingers there. “And our baby. Someday.”
Rowan’s heart skipped a beat. “Our baby?”
Seth stepped around her, standing now between Rowan and her family tree, bent to one knee, and opened his hand to reveal a small silver band, capped by a diamond resting in his large palm.
Rowan’s hand flew to her mouth.
“I’ve talked to your Dad, and he’s given me permission to ask.” Seth grinned at her with a twinkle in his eyes. “A good thing, too, because I think we both knew that if he refused, I’d throw a reata around you and steal you away to a cabin in the woods until you had my baby in you.”
Rowan flushed with excitement at the heady image. Seth brought her back down to Earth with one simple question.
“Will you marry me, Rowan Archer?”
Rowan couldn’t answer, in spite of how badly she wanted to. She’d given up all hope that a day like this would ever come, and now that it was here, her knees were buckling, her heart was racing, and tears pooled in her eyes then fell down her cheeks. It felt so real, so solid, so permanent, not just words whispered in the dark. There was a rock, a tree, and a man on his knee in front of her.
Her man.
If she was brave enough.
She tried to take a breath, but it caught in her throat. “If…if you leave me—us—again…”
“Never.”
“If you do, I’ll hunt you down and shoot you.”
Seth grinned at her. “I don’t doubt it. But I’ll never leave.” He didn’t ask again, opting instead to silently slip the ring on her finger and then pull her in close after he stood up. She cried into his chest, relief and joy flooding through her, rendering her unable to do anything but fist her left hand, as though the precious symbol of their shared future might fall off her finger and tumble into the dirt.
He left her for a moment, when she could finally stand on her own. Blinking through a haze of tears, she watched him pull a blanket from his saddle bag and spread it out over the flower-covered ground. He took her hand and drew her down with him, threading their fingers together as though he understood her fear, could sense it somehow.
“You’re mine, Rowan,” he declared as his free hand began to unbutton her shirt.
Rowan was lost underneath him, his hand dipping into her bra and freeing her nipple, only to cover it with his lips. “Seth!” she cried and pressed her hands to the back of his head, urging him breathlessly.
He knew what she wanted and delivered a sharp bite, pulling her sensitive flesh into his mouth and sucking hard.
She arched her back as he marked her, first one breast then the other. He finally let go of her hand and kissed and licked her exposed belly as he tugged at the button of her jeans.
As Rowan lay naked, underneath a robin’s-egg-blue sky and surrounded by a sea of wildflowers that whispered in the wind, Seth dipped his head between her thighs and brought her tense, taut body to its first orgasm with his tongue. Rowan understood that she’d always come first with Seth, and more than once, even if it took hours, all day, all night. He’d bring her shuddering to climax after climax, holding off on his own.
She was coherent enough—though just barely—to spread her legs for him, knowing what was coming next, or rather that they were coming next—together.
Seth grinned at her as he pushed down his jeans to his thighs. “There’s my girl,” he said. “Spread a little wider for me. Show me.”
Perhaps spurred on by the husky tone in his voice, or their isolation, hidden as they were by the flowers with no one out here to see them anyway, Rowan bit her lower lip and reached down, tentatively pulling her pussy lips apart, giving him exactly what he’d asked for.
The breeze rustled the lavender and puckered her nipples, exposed as they were. It danced across her swollen clit too, tickling her.
Seth wiped his mouth, lips still glistening from his earlier attentions. “God damn, Rowan. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He had his cock in his hand, rubbing the thick shaft slowly, teasing them both.
Rowan groaned and couldn’t stop herself from lifting her hips into the air. “Seth!” she begged.
“Okay,” he said finally, ending their torment. “Okay.” He lowered himself, guiding the head to her entrance. He pushed in hard, knowing she was aching for him. The sudden clenching response of her body nearly sent her into a second orgasm.
It was too soon, though, for both of them, and Rowan wanted Seth to have as much pleasure as he’d already give her, many times over. She wrapped her legs around him, signaling that she was ready for a rough ride. He pounded into her, again and again, driving them both toward an intense release. Not qu
ite together, but close. And there was always next time, something to strive for, thought Rowan as she held him in her arms, sweat and breath mingling against her bare skin.
Her ring sparkled in the sunlight beating down on them.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
‡
Seth woke just before dawn, as usual, and tried to slip out of bed unnoticed.
Rowan stirred next to him, though, and caught his arm, trying to draw him back.
He leaned over her, planting a soft kiss on her lips.
She groaned. “Don’t go.”
“I have to. And you have to be at work in a few hours anyway. Go back to sleep.”
She frowned but rolled back over, and Seth pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a clean shirt before he eased the door closed behind him. They’d gotten themselves into a nice little routine over the last few weeks, coordinating their schedules with Rowan’s shifts at work so that they at least had one whole day off together every week.
Seth had fully moved in at this point, sharing half the closet space with her in their shared bedroom. His boots were by the door, next to everyone else’s, and occasionally Mac let him share the remote control at night before bedtime.
He walked quietly past the old man’s closed bedroom door, not because he worried about waking Mac. Seth already knew the old man wasn’t in there. He hadn’t heard the man wake—the large, rambling farmhouse offered a surprising amount of privacy, which made sense because like the Big House at Snake River, it had been designed with a large family in mind.
No, Mac was up before dawn because Mac was always up before dawn, and no heart attack seemed capable of altering the man’s routine.
The floor still creaked, though, and Willow was asleep.
Seth stopped at the little girl’s door and heard the familiar scrape on the wooden floor on the other side. He grasped the knob and pushed it in. Kinka greeted him, happily but silently as he’d learned, just wagging his white, fluffy tail, tongue lolling to the side.
