“He’s unbelievable,” she declared. “Just unbelievable.” She finally found her feet and stood upright. Seth let go of her, and she turned to face him. “He can’t be serious.”
Seth looked troubled, and why wouldn’t he be? This whole situation was a total mess. And it was wrong of her to ask him to take sides. Court was his brother, and blood came first. Always.
She glanced toward the house and was relieved to see no one in the windows peering out at them. Emma had taken Willow to the back bedroom, like Rowan had asked, and kept her there. She didn’t need to see this. Rowan wished she could disappear, too.
Chapter Eleven
‡
Seth studied Rowan’s face, to his own detriment. It was difficult to stomach seeing her in this much pain. He had known Court cheated on her; Sawyer had said as much at some point. His heart broke for her and what she must have gone through, what Court had put her through, young and pregnant, abandoned by his younger brother and having to lie to everyone about who the baby’s father was. It seemed wrong to Seth that Rowan had had to bear the weight of people’s judgmental looks when Court was every bit as responsible.
And it had been hard to keep silent while listening to Court insist that he’d changed for the better. Seth had heard the words, but they didn’t exactly ring true, in his opinion. Court had been “different” for just a few days, and all he’d done, really, was pick up a reata and practice with it. Not exactly proof positive of long-lasting change. He still had to be hounded every day to help with baling and maintenance around the ranch.
Rowan was right not to trust him, as hard as it was for Seth to have to admit that about his own brother. Seth’s every instinct vibrated like live wires inside him, wanting to protect her from further heartache. But he wasn’t sure how he could do that, wasn’t even sure it was his place to try. To say the situation was difficult was an enormous understatement.
Seth wasn’t certain what he could do to make things any easier for the woman and her little girl, but as he racked his brain to come up with something, he was suddenly reminded of the sheep feed sitting in the back of his truck. It seemed like such a small gesture, but the idea made him feel good–like he was doing something, at least. He handed Rowan back the shotgun, confident she wouldn’t use it now, and walked to the truck’s bed. As he passed by the cab, he flashed a stern look at Court, a silent signal for the man to stay right there, exactly where he was. Seth lowered the gate and lifted the first sack.
Rowan stared at him, astonished. “What are you…what is that?”
“Your feed order from Hellman’s,” he told her as he walked past her toward the barn. “You left in such a hurry you forgot to take it with you.”
She hesitated, gazing after him, before falling into step beside him. “I didn’t pay for it, either, Seth.”
“It’s taken care of,” he assured her as he stopped in front of the closed barn door. He nodded at it, and Rowan snatched at the steel handle, heaving it open. “Where should I put em?”
“Seth…” She gaped at him, eyes blinking furiously. “Seth, this isn’t your problem. I can’t let you g—”
“It’s already done, sweetheart. Now, this one’s kinda heavy…so where should I put it?”
She still hesitated, and he was forced to shift the seventy-five-pound sack in his arms to avoid dropping it. “Oh God,” she gasped. “Here. Over here. Against this wall.”
He followed her gesture and set it down gently, so as not to rip the canvas, then headed back out for the second, and the third. He saw her attempt to lean the gun against the sidewall and help him. Seth shot her a look as sharp as the one he’d given Court. She froze. “Don’t,” he told her. “Don’t even.”
“I can get a few,” she called after him as he headed back for more.
Seth grunted. “That’s not the point.”
He finished in a few minutes, bringing in the last bag as full darkness settled around them. The overhead industrial light on the barn’s ceiling buzzed over the sound of restless sheep penned in for the night several feet away.
“I…I can’t let you, I mean, I…”
Out of the corner of his eye, Seth saw her pull out her billfold from her jeans pocket. Even from this distance, he could see she was broke. The single bill in her wallet might be the only one she had left. Her ears pinked from embarrassment as she stared into the tiny abyss, as though she could will more money to appear if she tried hard enough.
Seth turned his head away quickly, adjusting the feed bag against the wall.
“There are checks in the house,” she said. “Somewhere in Dad’s office. I’ll find one.”
“You’re…” he began, but paused. Broke, he wanted to say, but of course he couldn’t. Seth’s tongue danced on his teeth as he tried to come up with something else. He realized he didn’t know what Rowan was, exactly. She wasn’t family, and they weren’t friends. She was a woman who needed help, though, and Seth couldn’t walk away from that. “You’re busy right now,” he finished, to save her dignity. “Worry about it later.”
He stood up and brushed off his jeans as she frowned at him.
“I can’t let you leave without paying you for this,” she insisted. “You never should have gotten them in the first place.” She bit down on her lip then, so hard Seth expected to see blood. He instinctively reached for his handkerchief then realized she still had it. “I’m sorry,” she amended. “It’s not…I’m grateful. I am. It’s just…”
The silence hung between them for a moment before Seth finally said, “It’s cold tonight, Rowan. Go inside since you forgot to put on my jacket.” He smiled at her so she would know he wasn’t irritated or put out even the least bit. “We’ll see each other again,” he told her, though he wished like hell that it would be under better circumstances. A drink and a dance at the Silver Spur, while obviously having complications of its own, was so much more appealing than standing here in the dark watching her try not to cry.
Seth walked to his truck and slid behind the wheel. He cranked the engine over on his Super Duty and let it warm. Beside him, Court was still acting as though someone had snatched away his favorite toy, face pinched, jaw clenched. He was acting more like a child than the father of one. They rolled out of the Archers’ driveway and onto the highway, putting Rowan in the rearview for now.
Seth hoped that Court would remain silent, use the time to calm down and think about what should happen going forward. There were going to be a lot of adjustments, and a lot of details needed to be hammered out. Court would do well to start focusing on the future. It didn’t seem like he was ready for that, though.
“Can you believe her?” Court snapped.
It had just started, and Seth was already tired of this conversation. “No, I can’t believe you, Court. You knew. She called you, asking for help, and you turned your back on her. She was a kid, for God’s sake, scared and alone, and you just walked away.” Seth sighed. “It’s partly our fault. I know it. We all turn a blind eye to your bullshit. Oh, that’s Court. Someday he’ll learn. Someday he’ll grow up. But this? No, I can’t understand this. Because you were raised better than that. You’re surrounded by people who are better than that.”
Court had the audacity to roll his eyes. “Oh, here we go. Saint Seth’s in his pulpit, ready to show us all how to live.”
Seth ignored the jab. “Saint? No, Court, it’s common goddamn decency. You don’t abandon a woman after you get her into trouble. You don’t take a shot of whiskey and press a button and just delete the problems you don’t want to deal with.”
Court did sink a little lower in his seat at that. “I did a dumb thing,” he admitted.
A dumb thing? Really? That was all he had to say about it? “It’s beyond that, Court,” Seth pressed.
“Okay, okay! I said I’ve changed!”
“I’m not the one you need to prove that to.”
“I get it,” Court insisted. “I will. I’ll show her. I’ll get her back.”
That declaration didn’t make Seth particularly happy. “Court, it’s not about that. It’s not about getting back together with Rowan.”
“Well, why not? She’s a nice girl…when she’s not being a bitch, apparently.”
Seth’s hands flexed on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. He wanted to hit Court, knock some sense into him now before it was too late. Maybe it already was.
Court shrugged. “She’s loyal and fun. She’ll be a good wife.”
No word on whether or not he’d be a good husband.
If Seth weren’t driving, he’d close his eyes and count to ten. As it was, he gazed intently at the road in front of them. “Just…just focus on being a father, okay?”
Court nodded his agreement enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah. That’s good. That’ll bring Rowan around, definitely.”
“Court, kids aren’t pawns,” Seth snapped, starting to really lose his temper. Court could be exasperating sometimes. “You can’t use them.”