She reached out and took his hand in hers. For a moment, Seth remembered his own mother and the way she used to hug him whenever he was within arm’s length. “You’re so like him,” Sofia said quietly. “You most of all, out of all your brothers.”
Seth was startled. “Walker—”
The older woman shook her head. “No. He’s a leader like your father, and he takes on more than he can probably carry, like Rafe, but you’re the one who makes the sacrifices. You’re the one who puts everyone else first.”
Seth snorted derisively. “Nice guys finish last,” he muttered.
Without a wife, without a family.
He shrugged and pushed back his chair, not wanting to dwell on it. He told himself he had a roof over his head on the coldest nights and the stars above him on the range and that’s all he really needed.
It wasn’t all he fucking wanted. But it was what he needed.
“Good night, Sofia,” he said before he turned and trudged up the stairs.
As he got undressed, he found it meant little to him now that he wasn’t undressing for her. And his bed seemed cold because she wasn’t in it. He tossed and turned and twisted himself up in the sheets, angry and frustrated. How could he have gotten used to sleeping with her in such a short time? It seemed ridiculous, impossible, but clearly he had, because without Rowan tucked under his arm, head on his chest, Seth could only glare at the ceiling, unable to even close his eyes.
“I love you,” he whispered to the cracks in the plaster, because saying it to her, just before he had to break it off, would’ve just been torturing them both.
Chapter Thirty
‡
Rowan woke raw throated from crying herself to sleep and gave up trying to make her face less puffy. She simply raked a comb through her hair and headed out the door with Willow to get to the hospital on time.
“Does Pop-Pop really get to come home today?” asked Willow.
“Yes, baby. Today’s the day,” Rowan replied, glancing in the rearview.
Willow looked up at the same time and frowned. “Are you sad, Mama? Don’t you want Pop-Pop to come home?”
Startled by the question, Rowan’s foot actually came off the gas pedal. “Of course I want Pop-Pop to come home, baby. Of course I do.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I’m…I’m just tired, baby.”
“And you got hurt,” Willow reminded her, though she hadn’t needed to.
Rowan wasn’t likely to forget the hollow ache in her chest anytime soon.
Or ever.
“I’m just fine, baby,” she lied. “Pop-Pop’s coming home. We’re moving in. Everything’s going to be just fine.”
Rowan believed it, even if she didn’t feel it right now. It wouldn’t be easy, though. So much of their lives was going to change now with medications and bills. At least she could handle the home nursing and pill organization he’d need. They wouldn’t have to hire anyone. She was more than qualified to care for him, made more obvious by the fact that Paul Renner was at the nurses’ station, filling out a chart and beaming at her as she stepped off the elevator.
He put down the chart and shook her hand warmly. “He’s looking really good, Rowan.”
She nodded, knowing that he was, but it was nice to hear it anyway.
“And,” said Paul, “I talked to the head of HR for you yesterday. You’re in,” he declared. Then he winked at her, and she laughed, a clear, genuine laugh that felt good.
Behind Paul, Jill Sykes tried quickly to stifle the glare she was giving them just as soon as Rowan’s eyes met hers. Jill plastered a pageant smile on her face, and Rowan returned it, not really caring that she’d have to work side by side with the odious woman.
It was such a relief not to have to drive to Alpine for work. Working the farm and a full-time job would be difficult, but every little break would help.
“Thank you, Paul,” Rowan gushed. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”
He grinned and patted Willow on the head. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”
Rowan nodded, returning the sentiment before heading into Dad’s room to collect him. This time her smile was real and unforced, and she reminded herself that Dad didn’t know anything about Seth, nor would he. It was over before it began, really, and there was no point in rehashing it with anyone else.
“Today’s the day!” she said cheerfully, helping him with his fleece-lined slippers.
Dad smiled and looked relieved to be going home. Though he couldn’t pick up Willow, he slung an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. Rowan knew he was as happy for them to move in as they were to move.
It was nice to have a man in their lives who’d stick around.
She managed to get them both in the car and back home on her own. As they walked into the house, she looked around the living room, perhaps seeing for the first time that it had grown somewhat shabby in her almost-five-year absence. The paint on the house was peeling, and the stairs creaked but she couldn’t love a place more. Or the people in it.
“You know I need you, right Dad?” she asked. “I mean, you know I need you here.”
Dad turned to look at her curiously. “What do you mean? Where else would I be?”
Rowan couldn’t help but think about Rafe Barlow. She hadn’t known him well. She’d seen him while she’d been dating Court, and at church, around town. But he’d always had a kind word for her.
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just…you know it doesn’t mean as much, this place, not without you. Right?”
He squeezed her shoulder, and she couldn’t help but notice how weak his hold was, how close she and Emma had come to losing him. “I’m not going anywhere, honey,” he assured her. “Even if I have to give up salt. And steaks. And anything that tastes good.”
She smiled back because she was happy to have him here, but she couldn’t imagine Rafe Barlow’s last moments. Or, rather, she could imagine them, she just couldn’t understand them. For Dad to leave them? For her to leave Willow? It was unthinkable. How could Mr. Barlow have thought they were better off without him? But then she’d thought they were better off without Court, and they had been up until now.
Not wanting to think about it anymore, she put everything Dad needed within arm’s reach—remote control, bottle of water, pillow to ease the pain of coughing—and headed out to the barn to feed the sheep. Time was getting away from her, and she ripped the top off another bag, anxious to get her chores done before the pharmacy closed.
She was only half finished when she heard the sound of tires on the gravel driveway. Her heart thudded in her chest, knowing that no matter who it was, she didn’t want to see them. She set down the bag and peeked through the crack in the open barn door, spying Court’s massive truck parked underneath the tree. She groaned.
She didn’t want to see him. Or Seth. Or anyone at this point. She just wanted a quiet life with her family, such as it was. But she headed out the door quickly, to stop him from going up to the house. When he saw her, he ducked his head, and Rowan got the impression that he might actually feel a bit sorry about the things he’d said to her the last time they saw each other. She wasn’t sure she could believe that, though. For as long as she’d known him, Court Barlow had never apologized.
For anything.
He had trouble holding her gaze, though, for anything longer than a few seconds. His eyes kept drifting away, to the barn, to the pasture, to the house, anywhere but her. That seemed fitting. Court was always interested in anything—anyone—but her.
“We said once a week,” Rowan snapped to end the silence between them. “I’ll bring her by next week.” She glared at him. “I said I would, and I’ll do it.”
Court cleared his throat and tugged at his shirt collar. “I came to talk to you.”
“I think you said enough.”
“Rowan—”
“No!” she hissed. “No, no, no. You don’t get to do this, Court! You don’t get to come all the way out here so you can insult me some more, so you can trash me some more. You don’t get to do that. You said what you wanted to say. An alcohol-soaked manwhore who thinks I’m a slut. You know what? I don’t care. I really don’t. As long as you keep your damn mouth shut when it comes to Willow. Because I swear to God, Court, if you badmouth me to her, if you say—”
“I would never do that! I was just…I was shocked, okay? I was just shocked. My woman and my brother—”
“I’m not your woman!” Rowan cried.
Court scowled at her. “Well, you still feel like mine,” he said quietly. “Do you remember, Rowan? Do you remember us? Before things got bad? I do. I think about it all the time. I can’t stop thinking about you. I was your first, Rowan, and—”
“But I wasn’t your last!” she replied.
He winced.
“And that’s what happened. That’s the way things are. There is no going back to that, Court. I remember it, but I’m not that teenage girl anymore. I had to grow up. Fast. I didn’t have a choice. I don’t know what you want from me now. I can’t even imagine what it is you expect me do to after what you put me through. But whatever it is, Court, you’re not getting it. Not from me.”