Rough Stock(25)
“Okay,” Rowan replied. “We’ll get some lunch.”
“Will you stay for lunch?” Willow asked Seth.
Seth pursed his lips and stood up. “Well, now,” he drawled. “I’m not sure if—”
“There’s enough,” Rowan said, surprising him.
He’d been prepared to beg off, to make things easier for her.
“I mean,” she added, “if you’re going to fix the gate…I could do it myself, but…” She sighed heavily.
Seth took in her slumped shoulders, the dark circles under her eyes. “But you’ve got a ranch to run and your Dad in the hospital and a little girl to care for.”
“And Wooliam needs a bath,” Willow chimed in.
“And Wooliam needs a bath,” Seth repeated. “We can’t neglect Wooliam. How about I make lunch while Mommy washes Wooliam and takes a nap?”
“I can make lunch,” Rowan argued. “And I’m fine. I don’t need a nap.”
Seth glanced at Willow, who was skipping happily up the drive. The private confession Rowan had made earlier was all but forgotten now, hidden away like a dirty secret. He realized that Rowan would never admit to being overwhelmed in front of the girl. It would be like giving up, or letting it all fall apart. And Rowan didn’t seem like the type to do either.
“Well, at the risk of ending up like the gate, I’m going to have to argue with you,” he told her.
Rowan blushed.
“Sit down, anyway,” he said as they reached the house. “Get off your feet for a little bit.”
Before she could argue, he had already settled himself into the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink.
She hovered a bit, but he ignored her entirely, figuring the best way to win an argument with the woman was to just not have one. He found potato salad in the fridge and bread in the pantry and finally, after several minutes, he heard her sigh.
“Just for a minute,” she finally said before she headed out the front door.
Through the window, he saw her lower herself into one of the rockers.
Willow seemed agreeable to almost everything he put in front of her, except mustard. She liked her roast beef plain and her milk dosed with chocolate syrup. Seth fixed a plate for Rowan but doubted she would actually eat it. He covered it and put it in the fridge, instead starting a pot of fresh coffee.
When he stepped out onto the front porch, he found her awake in the chair, but her eyelids were drooping. “You really do need to get some rest,” he told her, passing her the cup. He wished it was decaf.
“I’m all right. I do work the night shift every week. I’ll survive.”
Seth slid down into the chair next to hers. “What’s Cheyenne like? Living there, I mean. I’ve only spent a few nights there.”
“Loud,” she said, lifting her mug to her lips. She took a long sip and closed her eyes. “Oh God. Thank you so much.”
He nodded. “Loud, huh? I believe that.”
Rowan leaned back into the rocker. “I miss the quiet in the morning. Just the wind and the birds.”
“I like to take a minute before the day starts, too. Watch the sunrise.”
She smiled. “I’m glad to be back, in spite of everything. I never wanted to leave.”
He sighed. “I understand why you had to.”
She looked at him, eyes wide. “You don’t hate me?”
“Hate you? Rowan, you were a kid. And, like you said, Court still is a kid. I am angry. I’ll admit that. I’m angry that he hurt you. I’m angry that I had a niece I didn’t know about for all this time. And I’m angry at the way Court’s handling it now. But none of that anger is directed at you, Rowan. I promise you. Not a bit of it. I don’t hate you. Or Court, though he deserves the bulk of the blame here.”
“And…” She cleared her throat nervously. “The others?”
“My brothers? They feel the same. Family’s important to us all, Rowan. And to have a little girl and not know her, that doesn’t sit well with us, but we can only move forward, fix what’s broken. We’ll give you anything you need.”
She nodded and took another sip of her coffee. “I hate to be anyone’s obligation, though.”
Seth set down his mug and turned to her. “You are not an obligation, Rowan. Let’s get that straight. I’m here because I want to be. And the others will help you in any way they can, too. You’re not an obligation, Rowan. You’re family.”
He helped her get the feed laid out for the flock and patted his front shirt pocket one final time. “I’ll take care of this tomorrow,” he vowed before he headed to his truck.
When he finally pulled into his own driveway, Walker was standing on the porch giving him some serious hairy eyeball. “How long does it actually take to pick up tractor parts these days?”
Seth shrugged and opened the gate on the truck’s bed. “Stopped to fix a fence line,” he replied, which was technically true. It seemed less complicated than telling the whole truth.
Walker sighed. “Okay. Well, we’ve got to have that spreader working by tomorrow morning. Anyway, Sofia’s got your lunch.”
“I’ll skip it,” said Seth, feeling guilty. “I’ll get the tractor up and running.”
Walker didn’t question him, because no one ever questioned him. He was Saint Seth, after all.
He didn’t want to stir up trouble by telling the truth about where he’d been, so he focused intently on getting the tractor’s motor in working order instead. But he should’ve been done after lunch, not just starting, and the long shadows faded into full-on night before Seth could finally replace the alternator and all the belts. His stomach told him he’d missed dinner, but the rest of him made it clear that sleep was more important. He dragged himself up to the shower and fell into bed, trying not to think about a woman with tortured brown eyes just a mile down the road.
*
He’d set his alarm this time, to beat the sunrise by more than just his usual few minutes. He dressed in the dark, found new bolts in the storage room of the utility shed, and headed off down that one mile back to the Archer place. He didn’t get farther than the gate, not wanting to wake Rowan or Willow. He parked and set the toolbox down in the headlights of the Ford so he could see.
Just as the sun rose behind him, he finished replacing the last bolt, threw the rusty ones into the toolbox, and closed the lid. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Rowan coming toward him with a thermos in her hand. “If that’s coffee you’re offering, I’ll take it. ’Course, if it’s poison, I’ll probably still take it,” he told her with a grin.
“Seth, I didn’t expect you to come out here at the crack of dawn just to fix my gate.”
He shrugged, ignoring the ache in his shoulders. The hot coffee went down easily and warmed him all over. He swallowed it gratefully. “Just thought I’d get a jump start on the day.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I don’t usually do breakfast. But I wouldn’t turn down another one of these,” he said, holding up the already nearly empty thermos.
Up at the house, they sat on the porch, him with a proper coffee mug this time and Rowan with one of her own. They watched the sun’s rays fall across the valley and illuminate the snow-capped mountains in the distance. The birds sang happily, heralding the crisp, spring morning.
“How’s your dad?”
“The fluids seem to be working,” she told him. “It’s slow going, especially since he’s trying to heal from the surgery on top of the pneumonia, but no fever, at least.”
“Good. That’s good. And the flock?”
“It’s doable,” she said quickly.
Which meant it probably wasn’t.
If their calving season was about to start, then the Archers’ lambing season was just around the corner as well, and there was no way Rowan could handle it alone. But damn, he admired her determination to try anyway. This was a woman who wouldn’t give up without a fight, just like himself.
“I’ll stay,” he offered. “Help you get the morning feed down.”
“Oh, Seth. No. You don’t have to. I can—”
“No one’s saying you can’t, Rowan. But I’m here now anyway. Might as well make myself useful. And pay you back for the coffee.”
“The coffee’s for the gate.”
“No. No. I said yesterday I’d fix the gate. Coffee wasn’t part of the deal.”
“But—”
“Why are you arguing what’s been decided, Rowan? It’ll take less time to lay down the feed than we’re spending going back and forth on it.”
He finished his morning brew, because it was good, and because she’d thought to make it for him, before he set down his empty mug and stood up.
They worked side by side in the barn, laying out grain from the bags he’d delivered earlier, Rowan keeping up with him every second. Seth was as impressed as he was irritated. He’d rather she be back up on the porch, resting as much as she could, but he knew she’d never go for it.
By the time they finished, it was full light outside. Despite the chill, Rowan reached for the jacket she was wearing—his jacket—and started to slide it off. “I should give this back to—”