Willow’s face scrunched up. “What’s that?”
“A Vaquero? It’s a special kind of cowboy. All the way from Mexico, in my case. Do you know where that is?”
Willow shook her head. “Is it near Cheyenne?”
Rowan and Seth both laughed.
“No, honey,” he replied. “It’s a bit farther away than that.” He stood up, turned, and opened the metal side bin in the bed of his Ford. He pulled out a thick, heavy rope and held it out to Willow. “We use special ropes,” he said. “And we have special ways to ride horses, and herd cows, and we have a special language, too. But I confess, darlin’, I’ve forgotten a lot of it these days.”
Willow took the rope and inspected it closely. “Pretty,” she declared. “Like mama’s hair when she braids it.
Seth glanced at Rowan. “Well,” he drawled. “I’ve never seen your Mama’s hair braided, but I bet it is pretty.”
Rowan quickly looked away from Seth, and he did the same, clearing his throat. “You can have that one,” he said to Willow.
“Really?”
“Seth, no,” Rowan told him, thinking of the feed, which she still hadn’t paid him for. “That’s…that’s too much.”
He shrugged and waved his hand. “It’s old,” he said. “I’ll make another. It’s no bother.”
“Seth,” she attempted to argue.
“It’s worn, Rowan. I’ve been needing a new one, anyway.”
Rowan was reminded of the gloves she’d found in his pocket, worn, too, and beyond repair. “I have your jacket,” she said. “I’ll get it for you. And your check.”
“I forgot a feed bag,” he told her striding to the bed of the truck. “It was dark and it was hiding underneath one of Dakota’s bags. She’d kill me if I accidentally fed it to her horses.”
Rowan felt a bit deflated at the mention of Dakota’s name. She knew Dakota Vasquez, or of her, at least. Dakota was behind Rowan in school, and they’d never been friends. Rowan recalled a fiery, dark-haired girl, a beautiful girl, one who’d commanded attention. Dakota was younger than Rowan, but Rowan knew the woman lived at Snake River. It made sense that Dakota and Seth be together.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to make Dakota mad,” Rowan declared, stepping out of the way. Especially not by looking at Seth, which I have absolutely no business doing, she thought. “I’ll get your jacket.”
She left Willow trying to rope the dogs and headed into the house, where everything seemed familiar, safer, less confusing. The check was where she’d left it on the counter, so she palmed it and headed back to the front door, where Seth’s fleece-lined denim jacket was hanging next to her nylon one. Best to give him both and send him on his way.
Though she was going to miss the jacket.
She reached for it but froze when she heard a loud rumbling coming from outside. She sidestepped the coat rack and drew back the curtains covering the living room window. A large truck, pulling a larger trailer, came hurtling up the drive. As Rowan peered closer, she got a fleeting glimpse of Court behind the wheel.
“God damn it,” she muttered and spun toward the front door.
She threw it open and scrambled down the steps. Willow, thankfully, was out of the way. Seth, Rowan noticed, had moved in front of the girl to protect her from his idiot younger brother chewing up the gravel driveway in the wake of his snow tires.
Rowan arrived at Seth’s side, out of breath and patience.
“You can bite that one,” Seth said to Kinka in a voice that Kinka might have understood since it was a growl very like the dog’s own.
Rowan sighed. “He’s not really an attack dog.”
“Too bad,” Seth muttered as they watched Court climb down from the truck’s cab.
In the sunlight, Court seemed made of gold, with his golden-brown skin and his dark hair streaked with sun-bleached highlights. Even his teeth glittered when he smiled.
Rowan was struck by the fact that…she wasn’t struck anymore. She wasn’t swayed in the least these days by the facade of the hard-muscled Vaquero lumbering toward the trailer. Court Barlow was a snake in the grass with a silver (though forked) tongue and hypnotic dark eyes. And Rowan had been bitten too many times.
“I brought you a horse!” he called out to Willow, who stopped trying to lasso Kinka and suddenly squealed loudly.
“Sonofabitch,” Seth muttered beside Rowan.
Rowan’s stomach lurched. “Oh God.”
Chapter Thirteen
‡
Seth wished they were alone so he could argue with her as he watched Rowan press a folded check into the palm of his hand. Surely she had other, more important expenses right now. She skirted past him and swooped up Willow into her arms.
Several feet away, Court threw the trailer gate open.
“Christ,” Seth muttered, as the horse that bolted out from the steel enclosure wasn’t even BlackJack, Court’s own horse. It was barely even a horse at this point. It was a filly, barely more than a foal herself, and one of Dakota’s, in fact. And Seth would bet the farm that she had no idea one of her precious charges had been whisked away. Especially since this one didn’t seem to be taking too well to trailering in general. It was a small miracle she hadn’t gotten hurt during the ride. She pranced, eyes wild, head tossing every which way as Court struggled to hold onto her.
She was pretty, though, Seth would admit. She had a dark-brown coat and a long, flowing black mane. She wasn’t trained, though, not even green broke. Leave it to Court to think he could charm every female he came across with just his wide smile and a few well-timed winks.
Seth looked at Rowan and was silently relieved to see she wasn’t buying into it. She held Willow close to her chest while glaring at Court.
“A pony!” Willow cried.
“It’s not a pony,” Seth replied, more to Court than to the girl. “It’s a yearling. One of Dakota’s horses. She’s rough stock, Court. Willow can’t ride her. Does Dakota even know you have her?”
Court shrugged, never losing the smile. “I’ll take her right back.”
“Can I pet her?” Willow asked.
Court tried to bring the yearling closer, but she spooked and spun in a circle. He tried a second time, and a third, and Seth thought it served him right for doing such a stupid, thoughtless thing, but then he looked at Willow, who was getting more and more disappointed.
Seth sighed. “All right, honey. Just a second.” He pocketed Rowan’s check and stepped forward, approaching the skittish colt calmly with his hands wide. “Hey, now,” he said quietly. “It’s okay.”
She turned to look at him and pranced a few more steps, but nickered in recognition.
Seth reached out slowly and rubbed her shoulder, then her neck, moving his hand in large, slow circles until he reached her cheek and snagged the halter securely. She threw her head a bit again, but he brought up his other hand and rubbed her muzzle. “There, now,” he whispered. “There, now.”
She took a few deep breaths, nostrils flaring wide, but the fiery look finally dampened a bit in her eyes. In just a few moments, Seth had her standing firmly, all four hooves on packed gravel. “Okay,” he said a little louder but didn’t take his eyes off the horse. “You can pet her now.”
Rowan brought Willow forward, perched on her hip.
Willow stared from Seth to the horse and back again as her small hand touched the velvet muzzle.
Seth grinned. “It’s not magic, honey,” he assured her. “I just see her every day. She knows me.”
“So soft,” Willow whispered. “Can I keep her?”
Seth shook his head before Court could answer. “No, honey. She belongs to a friend of mine.”
“But I thought you might like to pet her,” Court chimed in. “Your mama used to ride horses.”
Seth looked at Rowan. “I forgot about that.”
A sad look passed over Rowan’s face, but she shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Not for a long time,” she replied. “I sold my saddle to pay for books one semester.”
Court took a step forward, almost spooking the horse. “You can come ride my horse, Rowan.”
And though the offer actually sounded sincere enough, Rowan shot a harsh look at him. “I’m not going to ride your anything, Court.”
“Can I ride your horse?” Willow asked.
“No,” Seth and Rowan said at the same time.
The little girl’s lower lip quivered.
“He’s a bit feisty,” Seth explained. “He’s a roping horse, and he’s used to going fast. Very fast. And he’s a touch excitable.” Just like his owner, Seth thought darkly.
“That’s enough for today,” Rowan declared, moving away with Willow in her arms.
“Aw, Mama!”
Rowan shook her head, though. “Tell Court ‘Thank You’ for bringing her over.”
Willow brightened, and Court returned the grin. “Thanks, Court!”
“Well, now, you know, you can call me—”
“Court,” Rowan said sharply. “Not right now.”
Court frowned like he was going to argue, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. “Okay, then darlin’,” he said to Willow. “I’ve got to get her on home now. But you can come by my ranch and see her again sometime.”