Page 74 of Saddles and Snowstorms
Rowan’s eyes searched mine, and for a terrifying moment, I couldn’t read what was in them.
“What about when things get hard?” he asked quietly. “What about when I’m too tired from treating animals all day, or when you’re frustrated with the cattle, or when we fight? Are you going to run back to that empty ranch cabin and shut me out again?”
It was a fair question. One I deserved.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m done runnin’. I’ve spent my whole life runnin’ from getting close to people because I was afraid of losing them. But I realized somethin’ when I told you to leave.” I took a deep breath. “I was losin’ you anyway, the thing I feared most. And it hurt worse than anything I’d ever felt before.”
Rowan’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes.
“Brooks Callahan,” he said, voice soft but clear enough for everyone to hear, “are you asking me to be your partner? In business and... otherwise?”
I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes. Both. All of it.” My voice was barely more than a whisper. “I’m all in if you are.”
The silence stretched between us, thick as honey. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the waiting room on us, but I couldn’t look away from Rowan’s face.
Then, slowly, that smile I’d grown to love spread across his face, lighting up his eyes.
“I already told you I’m staying,” he said, reaching out to take my mangled hat from my hands. “I already told you I want the partnership.” His fingers brushed mine, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm. “But I’m glad you came all the way into town to make it official.”
Relief flooded through me, so strong my knees nearly buckled. “So, you meant it? You’re really stayin’?”
“I’m really staying,” he confirmed, his smile growing wider with each passing second. “I love you, Brooks Callahan. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”
I felt like all the air had been punched right out of my lungs. He’dsaid it. Said those words that I never thought I’d hear directed at me, not in this lifetime.
“You...love me?” I repeated, my voice barely audible over the sound of my thundering heart.
“I do,” Rowan said, no hesitation in his voice. “Have for a while now, even when you were being a stubborn ass.”
Mrs. Johnson let out a delighted little clap, and someone else—sounded like Tim—let out a whoop of approval. But I barely registered them. All I could see was Rowan, standing there with my crumpled hat in his hands and that smile on his face that made me feel like I was standing in sunshine after years in the dark.
“I love you too,” I said, the words coming easier than I’d expected. “Never said that to anyone before. Never thought I would.”
Rowan’s smile grew impossibly wider. “First time for everything, cowboy.”
Before I could second-guess myself, I stepped forward, closed the remaining distance between us, and kissed him right there in front of God and everyone. His lips were soft against mine, tasting faintly of coffee. For a moment, I worried I’d overstepped, kissing him like this in front of everyone. But then his hand came up to cup my jaw, and he was kissing me back with a fervor that made my head spin.
Someone whistled. Someone else applauded. I didn’t care. All that mattered was Rowan’s lips on mine, his body pressed against me, the feeling that something inside me that had been broken for years was finally, finally starting to heal.
When we pulled apart, both a little breathless, I saw that his cheeks were flushed pink, his eyes bright. He looked happier than I’d ever seen him.
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat and addressing the waiting room, “as you can all see, I’ll be staying on as Sagebrush’s veterinarian. Permanently.”
A cheer went up from the small crowd. Mrs. Johnson dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“And,” Rowan continued, “I’ll be partnering with Brooks Callahan to expand the practice to include large animal care based at his ranch.”
“About damn time,” old man Peters muttered, shaking his head with a smile.
Rowan squeezed my hand. “If anyone has objections to this development, you can keep them to yourself,” he announced, looking pointedly around the room. His tone was light, but there was steel underneath it.
No one said a word against us. Instead, there were more smiles and nods than I’d expected. Is this what acceptance felt like? Could it be that easy after all these years of worrying myself to death?
“Now,” Rowan said, professional demeanor sliding back into place though he kept hold of my hand, “I need to get back to my patients. Mrs. Johnson, I believe you and Mitzi are next?”
“Oh, take your time, dear,” she said, waving a wrinkled hand. “This is far more entertaining than Mitzi’s arthritis medication adjustment.”
Rowan laughed, a sound that never failed to warm me from the inside out. “I’ll be quick,” he promised, then turned back to me. “Wait for me?” he asked quietly. “I’ll be done in a couple hours.”
