Page 46 of Saddles and Snowstorms
“Right,” I nodded, sliding away from him. “The floor.”
Chapter 17
Brooks
Rowan had been quiet all night since we’d gotten out of the tub. When it finally came time to go to bed, I assumed he’d follow me back to the bed like he had the night before. But instead, he asked for an extra blanket, then made himself a little spot on the couch. Just the sight of it nearly broke my heart. And to make things worse, when I headed back to bed, even my dog decided to stay with Rowan. If there was any doubt left in my head that I was an asshole, the dog not wanting to sleep near me drove it away.
But how was I ever supposed to give Rowan what he wanted? What hedeserved?
Rowan Walsh was an attractive, young, beautiful man with nothing in his heart but love for animals and his work. He had dreams and ambitions that would take him far beyond the reaches of Sagebrush, of that I was certain. So why would he ever want to tie himself down to some crotchety old loser like me that had closed himself off from the world long ago? It didn’t make sense. And that’s why I couldn’t trust it, couldn’t allow myself to give in. I knew I was damaged goods and a man as wonderful as Rowan Walsh deserved a helluva lot better than me.
I tossed and turned for a long time, debating whether or not I should go out to the living room and talk to Rowan. However, when it became clear that I wasn’t going to get any sleep, I figured Imight as well try. The thought of having that conversation with him scared the hell out of me, but with the blizzard still raging outside, neither of us were going anywhere. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the next day or two getting the silent treatment from the first man I’d touched in fifteen years. At the very least, I needed to apologize.
With considerable effort, I worked my way out of bed, careful not to further injure my sprained ankle. Thankfully the bump on my head was feeling much better and my vision no longer swam when I stood up. If only I’d let that calf run out into the storm… Sure, I’d be down a calf, but considering how much hurt I did to myself and now to Rowan, that was starting to look like a more palatable sacrifice. Who was I kidding? Even if I’d known what was going to happen, I would’ve chosen the calf. If there was one thing I never skimped on, it was taking care of my animals. That was something that Rowan and I had in common.
I hobbled out to the living room, following the dim glow of the fireplace. The couch came into view, and I could make out Rowan’s silhouette under the blanket, Hank curled up at his feet. For a moment, I just stood there, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Was he asleep? Part of me hoped so—it would give me an excuse to turn around and delay this conversation until morning.
“I know you’re there, Brooks.” His voice was soft but clear in the quiet room.
So much for that plan. I sighed and made my way to the armchair across from the couch, easing myself down with a grunt.
“Your ankle okay?” he asked, sitting up slightly. Even after everything, he was concerned about me. That just made the knot in my stomach tighten.
“Been better,” I admitted. “Listen, Rowan, about earlier?—”
“You don’t have to explain,” he cut in, voice flat. “I get it. You’re not interested.” The firelight caught his face just right, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw. “I know how hookups work. Just because we had sex doesn’t mean you owe me anything.”
I clenched my jaw, shaking my head. “That ain’t what this is.”
“No?” His voice had an edge to it now. “Then what is it, Brooks? Because from where I’m sitting, it seems pretty clear.”
The fire crackled in the silence between us. Hank whined softly, sensing the tension.
“It ain’t that I don’t want you,” I finally said, the words coming out rougher than I intended. “Hell, that’s the problem. I want you too damn much.”
Rowan sat up fully now, the blanket pooling around his waist. Even in the dim light, I could see the confusion on his face.
“You’ve got your whole life ahead of you,” I continued, staring into the fire rather than meeting his eyes. “You’re smart, talented. You’ll move on from Sagebrush, eventually. Find someone your own age who can give you what you deserve.”
“So, you’re rejecting me for my own good?” There was a hint of anger in his voice now. “That’s pretty presumptuous, don’t you think?”
I finally looked at him. “I’m ten years older than you, Rowan,” I said sternly. “And ain’t nothin’ left of my heart but a shriveled-up husk. Believe me, you don’t want it.”
There was a long pause.
“How fucking dare you,” Rowan said, his voice soft making his words even more poignant. “Don’t you ever fucking tell me what I want, Brooks Callahan.”
I flinched at the intensity in his voice, not used to seeing this side of the usually calm vet.
“I spent the last three years with someone who thought he knew what was best for me,” Rowan continued, sitting up straighter. “He made decisions about my career, my life—hell, even got me fired—all because he thought he knew better than I did what I needed.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “And now here you are, doing the same damn thing.”
The comparison stung, but I couldn’t deny it had some truth. “That ain’t what I’m tryin’ to do.”
“Isn’t it? You’re making choices for both of us without bothering to ask what I actually want.” He leaned forward, eyes reflecting the firelight. “You think I don’t know what I’m getting into? That I haven’t considered what it means to want someone like you?”
“Someone like me,” I echoed, the words bitter on my tongue. “A broken-down rancher who ain’t left this county in fifteen years?”
“Someone real,” Rowan countered. “Someone who cares more about his animals than himself. Someone who’d risk his own neck to save a calf in a blizzard.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “Don’t you get it? I’vespent my whole life with people who were more concerned with appearances than substance. Men who cared more about their careers than anything genuine.”
