Rough Stock(37)

“There’s nothing to say!” Court shouted. “You can’t make this right! You knew I wanted her back. You knew I was trying to put my family back together.”

Rowan abandoned trying to button her shirt and shot a dark look at her ex. “You don’t have a family, Court! I told you that! Not one that I’m a part of, anyway! And if you can’t act like a grown Goddamned man, Willow won’t be, either! I won’t have this around her, Court. I won’t.”

But Court shook his head, unwilling to listen, apparently. “My brother and my woman,” he muttered. “Sneaking around behind my back. Neither one of you even thought about giving me a chance, did you? A chance to prove myself.” He glared at Seth. “You said you’d help me win her back, and here you are taking off her goddamn clothes right under my nose! You never planned to help me, did you?”

Rowan gasped and looked at Seth, who was already shaking his head.

“I never agreed to that, Court,” Seth argued. “I said I’d help make things as easy as possible for Rowan. I never said I’d help you get her back.”

Court snorted and glared at Rowan. “Well, I guess you’re making things real easy. Either that, or she’s real easy.”

Rowan started to take a step forward, fist at the ready, but it was Seth who swung out first.





Chapter Twenty-Three




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Seth lunged, and his fist connected with Court’s chiseled pretty-boy jaw. Court had seemed to half-expect it, though, seemed to have realized that he’d gone too far by insulting Rowan. He tried to back away at the last second, and the punch was little more than a glancing blow. But Seth was still moving toward him like a freight train. He was nearly blinded by rage but still retained just enough sense to take the fight outside the stall. Or maybe he just wanted to spare Rowan. Under normal circumstances, Seth would just walk away and let his little brother cool off, but Court had crossed a line.

Seth slammed into him, and they both careened out the open door of the stall. Court lost his footing, and Seth along with him, and both men went sprawling to the concrete floor. Seth found his feet first and hauled himself up and Court along with him. He dragged his brother down the aisle, toward the back of the barn and away from the Big House. When they made it to the dirt floor of the indoor ring, he flung Court by his denim shirt, sending the man flying ass over teakettle.

Court rose up and charged at Seth, managing to get in a good body blow then a right cross. Rafe Barlow had raised five teenage boys alone, and every one of them, to a man, could deliver a haymaker that would stun a rutting bull. The sharp pain in Seth’s own jaw only served to make him more angry. He ducked, caught Court around the waist, and lifted him straight off the ground.

Despite the vicious blows raining down on Seth’s back, he made it the handful of steps to the water trough and unceremoniously dropped Court into the brackish water. It was large enough for a full-grown man, though just barely. Seth pushed him down into the water, just enough to dunk him. Though he felt like it, he had no intention of drowning his youngest brother.

Seth let go, and Court came up spluttering, hat floating, legs kicking in the cold, impromptu bath.

“You’d better decide what you’re going to do before you come out,” Seth growled. “Because if you swing at me—or run your mouth again—I’m going to throw your ass right back in there!”

Court clawed his way out of the bracing water and snatched his hat as it floated on the surface.

Seth was more than ready for round two, but he got the feeling Court’s ego wouldn’t allow him to get his ass kicked a second time. Seth refused to let on that his head was pounding from Court’s last punch. He was a little old for rolling around in the dirt these days.

Court opened his mouth, and Seth stifled a groan, already not wanting to hear what he had to say. “Look,” he snapped, cutting Court off. “I get it, I do! I get that you feel like a total shit heel, but Rowan and Willow are not the answer to making yourself feel better! I can see how you’d think that, though. I can see the appeal. I mean, it’s perfect for you. It’s vintage Court, isn’t it?”

Court stared at him. “What the hell do you mean?”

Seth threw up his hands. “I mean the hard part’s over! All the diapers have been changed, the midnight feedings are over, the sleepless nights…Rowan did all of that, alone, because you wouldn’t pick up the fucking phone! And all you have to do now is come riding in on your big black horse like a knight in shining armor and play daddy to a little girl who doesn’t see what a selfish asshole you really are!”

“I am trying to do the right thing now!” Court insisted.

“Yeah, when it’s easy!”

“Well, I can’t help that!”

Seth stared at him. “You can’t help that? What the fuck do you mean you can’t help that? You could’ve helped that, and you chose not to! Because you never do anything for anyone else if it’s difficult or challenging in any way.”

“I’m willing to do the right thing now!” Court shot back. “I’m willing to marry Rowan and—”

“Get married?! Jesus Christ, Court. Do you hear yourself? You can’t even propose like a decent man. You didn’t for one second take Rowan’s feelings into account, did you? You just shot your mouth off, making promises that you expect other people to keep!”

“She would’ve said yes!” Court bellowed. “She just needed time!” He rushed at Seth again, and both men collided, each pawing at the other, searching for a decent hold.

Seth managed to get out from underneath Court’s powerful arms and shove him hard. He stumbled back, nearly lost his balance, but somehow managed to stay upright this time. His face twisted, but he seemed to have nothing to say to that. He was fighting two battles—one against Seth and the other against himself.

And he was losing both of them.

“She doesn’t love you,” Seth told him. It was tempting to add that Rowan loved him, instead, but Seth wouldn’t put words in Rowan’s mouth that hadn’t come across her own lips first. Plus, he couldn’t quite bring himself to rub salt in his youngest brother’s wounds.

Court came toward Seth again, but slower this time, lumbering with a look of pure defeat on his face.

Seth gave him a wide berth as he passed, just in case.

Court walked past Rowan and Dakota, who’d hovered near the entrance to the aisle. Both women seemed stunned, silent and watchful. Court hung his head and left out the side door, not even acknowledging Sawyer, who’d somehow come to stand just inside the doorway, looking perplexed.

After he’d disappeared around the corner, Rowan rushed into the indoor ring and threw her arms around Seth. “Oh my God!” she cried as she pulled away and cupped his face in her hands. “Oh.” She turned his head from side to side, pressing on the skin that Seth was certain was starting to swell a bit even if he couldn’t see it.

“Guess I don’t have to ask what the fight was about,” Sawyer said from behind them.

Rowan turned to look at him, and even Seth fixed him with a steady gaze.

Sawyer raised his hands. “Not judging. Just stating the obvious.”

Rowan looked back to Seth, and he saw the fleeting, haunted look in her eyes. “He’s so devastated,” she said quietly.

Seth smoothed back her hair and planted a kiss on her forehead. Even with all Court had put her through, Rowan was still the tender-hearted woman Seth had comforted in the parking lot of the Silver Spur, trying to appear tough to everyone else as she carried their burdens. He sighed. “He was going to find out. It could’ve happened a better way, obviously, but at least it’s out now.”

From farther away, Willow’s voice rang out and echoed off the barn’s walls. “Mama! Mama, I brought you a cookie!”

Seth pushed Rowan away from him gently. “Go,” he told her. “Go on and catch her before she comes back here. She doesn’t need to see me.” His fingers went to his face, checking for the damage there.

Rowan gave him a quick good-bye kiss and turned away.

Seth watched her hurry to the front entrance while listening to Sawyer come up beside him. His other younger brother made a sympathetic noise that prompted Seth to turn and look at him—once Rowan was fully out of view.

Sawyer sniffed. “You know, you and I, we’re a lot alike.”

Out of all the things Sawyer could say—and he’d said some doozies in his time—this one surprised the hell out of Seth. And angered him. “Bullshit,” he snapped and started to walk away.

“You can say that,” Sawyer called after him. “But I know it’s true.”

Seth couldn’t fight with Court anymore and didn’t want to, but he was still twitchy and pissed off that everything had been such a cluster fuck. He whirled on Sawyer, who didn’t so much as flinch despite Seth’s bruised, flexing knuckles and sharp glare. “What could we possibly have in common?” Seth asked. “Besides a last name? Huh, Sawyer? What? Go ahead! Enlighten me! We both make fart noises with our armpits at the dinner table? I’m pretty sure that’s just you. You couldn’t take anything seriously if your life depended on it.”