Rough Stock(39)

They were always at the mercy of the weather, of the mercurial moods of brothers, of God, and His unfathomable plan, which sometimes didn’t feel like a plan at all but more like punishment, meted out disproportionately—and randomly.

He rose from his chair when the mug was empty and he could no longer find an excuse to stay. “Tonight,” he said quietly before he kissed her, before he crossed the driveway and started his truck. He let the engine warm up a moment before he headed down the highway toward his own spread. Things seemed quiet as he pulled into the driveway. The lights in the kitchen of the Big House were on. Sofia was probably cleaning up after breakfast, which Seth had purposely slept through so he could spend more time with Rowan.

He might as well skip a shower, too, until the hard labor of the morning was finished. He was already behind, he felt, and felt duty bound to catch back up before noon. As he headed toward the barn, he glanced at the bunkhouse and sighed. He wasn’t particularly interested in another showdown with his brother, but he’d already put it off for too long.

He’d sit Court down and explain the situation, that Seth and Rowan were in love, and that no one wanted to cut him off but that things had to proceed carefully and always with an eye toward making things easiest for Willow.

On his way toward the low-slung building, Gabe stepped out of the bunkhouse and closed the door firmly behind him. He spotted Seth and headed across the gravel. Even in the dark-gray haze of morning, Seth saw the younger man’s grimace.

“I don’t suppose Court’s awake?” Seth asked him. “Doing chores already?”

Gabe shook his head. “I don’t know if he slept so much as passed out. I tried to wake him for work, but he wasn’t having it. And to be honest, he does look a little worse for wear. And for some reason, his hat’s wet.”

Seth sighed, slipped off his own hat, and looked up at the pearlescent sky overhead. “I may have gone a little hard on him,” he admitted.

Gabe snorted. “If it came from you, then he definitely deserved it. Can’t say I haven’t wanted to pop him a few times for being downright lazy. But never over a woman. They’re not worth it.”

Seth frowned. He supposed it was none of his business anyway. Gabe had loved a woman once. From New York City, no less. She’d come to Wyoming, sick of the rat race, she’d said. Interested in cute boots and cute cowboys. One freezing Teton winter was all it took to send her packing. All Seth really knew was that things had ended badly and Gabe hadn’t chased her.

“Rowan is,” he replied, though, because he couldn’t let even an unintentional slight against her go unchallenged.

Gabe simply nodded. “If she’s the woman for you, then she must be.” He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and stalked off in the direction of the barn.

Seth turned to the closed door of the bunkhouse and debated waking up Court just to finish things off. Before he’d figured out what he wanted to do, he heard shouting from the barn.

Gabe must have heard it, too, because he broke into a jog.

Seth abandoned arguing with Court in favor of finding out who else was having difficulties. He and Gabe entered the front sliding door, saw Sawyer stepping out of the barn’s office, and all three of them made their way down the hallway toward the indoor ring. There, Austin and Walker were pummeling each other in a scene eerily reminiscent of Seth and Court’s row the day before. So much so that Seth glanced at the trough to make sure Dakota had refilled it. Just in case.

Austin got in a punch, and Walker quickly countered it, spinning his barely younger brother. Austin turned back, looking twice as pissed off, fists still at the ready. “I’m a part of this family, too, in case you’ve forgotten! We’ve all got the same last name, Walker. That money isn’t yours to sit on like a fucking dragon!” Austin bellowed. “Why can’t we spend some of it?”

“Because it’s blood money!” Walker cried.

Austin froze, midswing.

“Don’t you get it?” Walker spat. “Don’t you understand? He wanted to die! He rode out into that storm as his last sacrifice—for us—so we’d have enough money to keep the place going.”

Austin shook his head and backed up a step. “No,” he countered. “No, that’s not true.”

“It is true.”

“How do you know?” Austin demanded. “Did he…did he say something to you?” His arm cocked again, ready to deliver another blow, apparently, at the idea that Walker might have known they were going to lose Dad.

“No,” Walker replied. “He didn’t say anything.”

Austin hesitated. “Did he leave a note?”

Walker shook his head.

“Then you don’t know!” Austin concluded. “You don’t know that’s how it happened! So stop talking shit about Da—”

“I do!” Walker argued. “I do know.”

“How?!”

“I just do. I just know. I can’t…I can’t explain it to you. You wouldn’t understand. I’m the only one who’s supposed to know. But you kept pushing with your batshit crazy plans. You just wouldn’t let it go.”

Austin ran at him again and collided into Walker, who instead of pushing him away, pulled him in close. Austin couldn’t get a good swing in.

“You were never supposed to know!” the eldest Barlow shouted. His scream reverberated off the corrugated metal walls.

“It’s a lie!” Austin cried. “You don’t know shit. Dad didn’t kill himself. And what about Manny? He sure as shit didn’t kill himself. He’d never—”

Beside Seth, Gabe made a strangled noise, announcing their presence to the feuding twins. Everyone turned to see Gabe’s furious look, his flashing, dark eyes, his hands fisted at his sides.

Seth stifled a groan.

“No,” Walker moaned, eyes wide, gazing at them all. “No, no, no.”

Gabe turned and fled out the side door, right past Court, who looked bewildered.

“Dad?” Court asked, looking at each of them.

When no one responded, Court turned to the twins, blinking furiously. “Dad?” he repeated, his voice sharper, more brittle.

Walker glared at Austin and shoved him away. He pushed so hard that Austin tumbled to the ground, landing on his hip in the dirt. “This is your fault!” Walker accused in a raw-throated voice. “This is on you. They never had to know. I never would’ve told them. They didn’t have to know.”

Court turned and disappeared into the darkness outside. Seth helped Austin up off the ground while Sawyer stood silently, watching over all of them. His trademark half-cocked grin had been wiped off his face, and the man had apparently been rendered entirely speechless for once.

Walker sighed, picked up his dirty hat off the ground, and stomped away from them all.

Seth watched his oldest brother go, realizing that the weight of the burden Walker was carrying had been so much more than any of them had known.





Chapter Twenty-Six




‡


Rowan washed the mugs and allowed herself a moment of peace and quiet before she had to go and let out the flock. It was easy to get caught up, lost in a daydream of mornings with Seth, nights with Seth, a life with Seth. For the first time since she could remember, she caught herself humming as she dried what she’d come to think of as his mug with the dishtowel.

To hell with Court, she thought angrily. What right did he have to try and ruin her future the same way he’d done to her past? And he was a fine one to judge when it came to sleeping around, the man who couldn’t keep it in his pants if his life depended on it.

She was tired of having her life ruled over by Court, or the idea of Court coming back into their lives, wreaking havoc, or the memory of how he’d hurt her. She deserved happiness, and she was going to take it. She’d give him a few days, because Willow didn’t need to see her daddy acting like a belligerent child, but Court Barlow was done interfering in her life. She knew what she wanted now, had a right to it, and Goddamn it, she’d punch him out if he had any more to say about it.

She’d all but delivered that speech to him—in her head, at least—when she heard a vehicle in the driveway and turned to see Emma’s car pulling up to the house. She stifled a groan and replaced the dishtowel. Oh, well, she thought as the front door opened. It was good practice, anyway, dealing with unsupportive siblings. Emma had made her feelings known, even before there had really been anything to know.

Luckily, Rowan had grown used to the fact that nothing in her life came easy. She drew herself up, squared her shoulders, and watched her protective older sister come into the farmhouse’s tiny kitchen. Though the two sisters had been separated for a few years now, Emma seemed to realize immediately that trouble was brewing. Even in the midst of all their tension of the last few days, Rowan missed her sister fiercely and was glad to be back home with her.

They’d argue, get past this, and take care of Dad and the farm, together, because no matter what, they were family.

And family came first.

Emma frowned at her. “You look like you’re about to pull out my hair.”

“I’m not,” Rowan said cautiously.