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Authors: Dahlia West

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BOOK: Rough Stock
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Seth steered her away and down one of the stall aisles.

Rowan’s clipped boot heels on the poured concrete told him she was a long way from cooling down.

“Marriage,” she bit out, looking back over her shoulder.

Seth continued pushing her forward.

“It’s like…It’s like he doesn’t even get that other people
exist
, or have thoughts or feelings of their own.”

Seth sighed as he took her by the hand and led her closer to the second exit. “Yeah, well, I think at this point he might be a lost cause, sorry to say. But just let it go. Anyway, here’s your surprise, to take your mind off it.”

He slid open the heavy steel bolt to one of the stalls and ushered Rowan inside. There, a saddled quarter horse mare stood, eyeing them expectantly. Seth took the bridle down from the hook on the door frame and passed it to Rowan.

She stared at the bridle for a moment. “What’s her name?”

Seth shrugged. “She doesn’t have one.”

“How does she not a have name?”

He merely shrugged again, dismissing the question. “Go on,” he encouraged. “You know how to do it. Finish tacking up so we can go.”

“Go.”

“On our ride.” He nodded to the stall across the aisle. “Choctaw’s just about to tear down the walls. See, that’s his very favorite mare right there, and the idea that he gets to be alone with her on a long ride is about all he can think about today. He’s getting pretty impatient.”

Rowan laughed, despite herself, and it made Seth grin from ear to ear. “I haven’t been for a ride in a long time,” she mused.

Seth crossed the short space between them, swept her into his arms, and dragged her mouth across her ear. “I know that, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I was inside you last night.”

Rowan giggled again and pushed him away.

Reluctantly, he let her go, only so she could finish up and they could get the hell away from here for a while. He left the stall and crossed to Choctaw’s, who nickered impatiently as he opened the gate. “You and me both, buddy,” Seth murmured to his horse.

He led Choctaw out to the driveway, swung up into the saddle, and settled himself into the stirrups. Rowan came out, leading the strawberry roan Seth had chosen for her. He watched her mount, adjust her reins, and find her seat again after so many years. She looked happy, though, almost deliriously so, and that made
him
happy to see it.

“You ready?” he asked her, nudging his horse forward.

She looked back over her shoulder, though, and bit her lower lip.

“She’s with Dakota,” Seth assured her. “She couldn’t be in better hands.”

Rowan sighed and turned back to him. “Okay,” she finally relented. “I guess you’re right. So,” she said, falling in line next to him, “where are we going?”

Seth grinned at her. “Anywhere you want, sweetheart. As far as the eye can see and then some.”

Rowan looked around, toward the plains to the east then the mountains and the river to the north. “Let’s get closer,” she said, nodding toward the Tetons.

Seth tipped his hat to her and gave Choctaw another nudge. “Yes, ma’am.”

Chapter Twenty-Two


R
owan and Seth
crossed the sun-drenched valley toward the towering purple mountains beyond. Her mare was spirited but not by any means uncontrollable and reminded her of Maizie, her barrel-racing horse from her teenage years.

“You okay?” Seth asked her, but he didn’t look concerned. He was smiling.

Rowan grinned at him. “She’s amazing.”

Seth nodded. “She’s not as docile as some of Dakota’s other mares. She reminds me of you in that way.”

For some reason, he was giving her a look so heated that it made Rowan’s breath catch. She supposed she’d been looking at him the same way all afternoon. Seth had been impossible to ignore from the minute she’d met him, and keeping her eyes (and hands) off him was a real challenge right now.

Farther along the trail, they passed an old cabin, weather worn yet still standing firm. “That’s where it all started,” Seth told her while indicating the ancient structure.

Rowan inspected the rough-hewn logs of the walls as they rode by. “He kidnapped her, right?” she asked. “Your great-great grandfather? He roped your great-great grandmother and tied her to his saddle. He brought her here and held her prisoner. And then he—”

Seth laughed loudly, cutting her off. “The people in town say that, if they even talk about it at all these days, which I doubt. But that’s not exactly right. Kit and Rafaela were in love,” he told her. “But her family didn’t approve of the match. And Rafaela was feisty and brave, but she’d never go against her family’s wishes. She was an honorable woman.”

Seth nodded to the cabin. “So, Kit built her a home, with his own two hands, to prove to them he could take care of her, that he was a worthy husband. But they still said no. So one night he rode out to their property, threw a reata around her, and brought her here anyway. Her sister sounded the alarm, and Rafaela’s father chased them as far as the Snake until he lost their trail.”

He gave her a chastened look. “And…yes, Kit kept her here, until she was pregnant, and her father was forced to allow them to get married. But she loved him, Rowan. She begged and pleaded with her father to let them get married. Plus, my grandmother always said that Rafaela knew. She knew when she went outside that night that Kit might take her away and make her his wife. He roped her only to spare her reputation in the town.”

He grinned. “To them, Rafaela was a long-suffering woman who endured living out in the wilderness with a mountain-mad Barlow only by the grace of God and with the patience of a saint. But she loved it out here. And she loved
him
. Their days were full of hard, brutal work, and their nights were filled with passion—that’s how my grandmother always told it, anyway. But then again,
she’d
married a mountain-mad Barlow, and so her opinions might have been biased. Rafaela didn’t exactly write the word
passion
down in the family Bible.”

Rowan blushed and looked away. She knew exactly how it felt to be roped by a Barlow and taken to bed.

“They made love in the fields,” Seth told her.

Rowan’s head snapped back to him. “No!”

He nodded, chuckling. “They did. In the tall grass, among the wildflowers. My grandmother made it sound romantic enough, I guess, though I suppose it was more practical than all that. They were always with the herd, either down in the Gulch or up on the Ridge. They couldn’t afford to lose a single head in those days and so it took both of them to keep the ranch going. They say the sounds of their coupling kept the coyotes away.”

“Oh, stop it!” Rowan laughed, waving him away.

“It’s probably true!” he insisted with a grin. “I don’t know how you keep so quiet.”

Rowan’s cheeks flared all the way up to her ears. How indeed, with a man like this.

Seth lost all signs of humor as he looked at her. “I bet I can make you scream, Rowan. Loud and long.
For hours
.”

“It’s too cold,” she replied in a clipped tone even though her pulse was racing. She turned her mare away and continued on the trail.

“True,” he said, actually sounding disappointed.

They rode to what he called Riley’s Ridge. When they got to the top, Choctaw nickered, swung wide of the trail, and pranced just a few feet away.

Rowan glanced over her shoulder, checking the landscape around them. “Is there a wolf?” she asked Seth. “Or a cat?” She’d had more than her share of wolves at this point and squinted hard but didn’t see the languid form of a mountain lion anywhere on the horizon, either.

God forbid there’d be a bear, but she was confident their horses could outrun one.

“Nah,” said Seth, gathering the reins and getting his horse back under control. “He’s showing off for the two of you. He’s not a horse. He’s a
ham
.”

Rowan’s own horse was tossing her head, making her glossy brown mane wave in the breeze. It was clear the feeling was mutual between the two animals. “And she’s his favorite?”

Seth nodded. “He’s always looking for her when we get back from spending time with the herd.”

Rowan was buoyed by the idea of two horses in love. It seemed so innocent, so uncomplicated. She was almost jealous. “Will you…will you breed them?”

She felt ridiculous asking, dancing around any real conversation but Seth looked at her so intensely that it was like a punch to the belly. Rowan nearly lost her breath. “Probably,” he said quietly. “When she’s ready. He’s getting older. Gotta think about the future. Anyway, there’s time enough. And that mare, she’ll be perfect for you.”

Without thinking, Rowan tugged gently on the reins, bringing the horse to a halt. “Seth,” she replied, head spinning. “You…you can’t…I mean, the pony is enough, you can’t give me—”

Seth brought Choctaw to a halt and turned to look at her. “Now, I told you. The pony’s on loan. I didn’t buy it. I would never do that without asking you first. And I’m not paying for
her,
” he said, nodding at the mare. “Not unless you counting mucking out stalls from here to eternity to get Dakota to hand her over, which I’m more than willing to do.”

Rowan stared at him. “That’s why you won’t tell me her name,” she said, finally putting it all together.

Seth nodded. “Because she’s yours.
You
name her.”

It was an extravagant gift, and one that Rowan couldn’t deny was incredibly tempting. But she couldn’t accept it. “Seth—”

His look stopped her cold. “Why are you arguing what’s already been decided? It’s a hard life out here, Rowan. I know you grew up here, but you’ve been away for a long time. The wolves, the work, it’ll be difficult. You’re going to need some good things in your life.”

Rowan swallowed hard as she looked at him. “Like you?” she asked quietly.

“Like me.” Seth nudged his horse to circle around her and came up alongside. He reached out and tugged on Rowan’s fleece collar and pulled her in for a light kiss that quickly became so heated, her thighs twitched.

She finally pulled away, struggling to catch her breath. As she looked up at and saw the warm golden layers of light in the sky, she sighed, half in disappointment and half in relief. She didn’t want to leave his arms now, but she’d force herself to…for the promise of being in them later. “We should get back,” she told him.

He fingered the collar of the jacket, lips still at her jaw, breath warming her skin. “In a hurry, Rowan?” he whispered. “Can’t imagine why.”

She heard the grin in his voice rather than saw it and smiled herself. “The sun’s going down,” she whispered back.

Seth dipped his tongue in her ear, an intimate reminder of the night before. “What a coincidence,” he replied.

She shivered.

Finally they broke apart, turning their horses back to the homestead. Ahead of her, Seth gave Rowan a sly look over his shoulder before spurring his horse. The seasoned ranch horse exploded off the trail, taking just a few strides before getting up to a full gallop.

Rowan tightened her grip on the reins, barely needing to even nudge
her
horse, anxious as the mare was to catch up to her beau. They practically flew over the hills and valleys, gaining ground with every stride. Rowan wasn’t certain if Seth was holding Choctaw back. Most of her didn’t care.

The breeze blew her hair back, and the wind in her face, far from stinging, felt as though it was breathing new life into her. The air was still chilly, but Rowan barely felt it. The rode on, racing the sun as much as Seth and Choctaw.

And winning.

The mare had great footing, never slipping or losing speed on the dirt. Most of the snow on the open plain had melted at this point, and so Rowan kicked her horse on, pouring on the speed. She leaned forward, twisted her fingers in the mane, and raced along the sloping hills back toward Snake River Ranch.

It was exhilarating, like barrel racing. But better. Here there were no clocks, no spectators, no trophies to win, only a sunset to beat. The thunder of her mare’s hooves filled her ears as they caught up with Seth and Choctaw, shoulder to shoulder, pounding the earth as they galloped toward home.

It felt so good, so familiar, that Rowan laughed, the sound of her own voice lost on the wind. This—
this
—was the life she wanted, the one she thought she’d never have again. With Seth by her side and the powerful horse beneath her, she finally felt like anything was possible. She finally felt like she was
home
.

The sun finally sank below the horizon just as they crested the last hill overlooking the Barlow spread. They slowed the horses to a lope, then a trot, and finally to a walk, so as not to barn sour them, though somehow Rowan suspected it might not be a problem for her mare—
her mare!
The horse loved to run, it seemed. Or maybe just run with Choctaw, which was fine.

Rowan couldn’t imagine being out here without Seth by her side anyway.

Out of breath and feeling more wild and free than she could ever remember, she beamed at him, unable to contain her joy. She whooped into the air, and Seth laughed. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “
That was incredible!

BOOK: Rough Stock
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