Page 24 of Saddles and Snowstorms (Sagebrush Cowboys #4)

Brooks

R owan 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 he deserved ?

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 I might 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’ve spent my whole life with people who were more concerned with appearances than substance.

Men who cared more about their careers than anything genuine. ”

I stared at him, trying to process his words. “You deserve better than what I can give you.”

“There you go again,” Rowan said, throwing his hands up. “Making decisions about what I deserve. Has it occurred to you that maybe what I want is someone who sees me for who I am? Someone who doesn’t have some agenda?”

Hank chose that moment to get up, stretch, and pad over to me, resting his head on my knee. I absently scratched behind his ears.

“Look,” Rowan continued, his voice softer now. “I’m not asking for forever. I’m not even asking for tomorrow. But what happened between us wasn’t just physical for me, and I don’t think it was for you either.” He paused, watching me carefully. “Was it?”

I swallowed hard, feeling cornered. Truth was, it hadn’t been just physical. Not by a long shot. But admitting that felt like exposing my throat to the knife.

“No,” I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t just physical.”

Something shifted in Rowan’s expression then—a softening around his eyes.

“Then why push me away?” he asked.

I looked down at my hands, calloused and rough from years of ranch work.

“Everyone I’ve ever loved has left me,” I said, the words feeling like they were being torn from somewhere deep inside me.

“My ma, my pa, even old Joe who taught me everything I know about ranchin’.

They all died or left. And each time, it damn near killed me. ”

The fire crackled, filling the silence between us.

“So, you figured you’d just never love anyone again,” Rowan said, not as a question but a statement.

“It’s safer that way,” I muttered. “And besides, I’m not ready to tell all of Sagebrush I’m into men. Life’s hard enough without having to deal with all that.”

Rowan stood up, the blanket falling away as he moved toward me. He knelt in front of my chair, his green eyes searching mine. Hank shifted to make room for him, tail thumping softly against the floor.

“Brooks,” he said softly. “I’m not going to leave you.”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “You will. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday… someday you’re going to die. All of us are. And then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Rowan cocked an eyebrow in my direction. “What makes you think you’re gonna out live me?”

I glared at him. “It’s not funny, Rowan.”

“I know it’s not.” He reached up, grasping my hand. “And I know you’ve been through hell. I don’t blame you for being scared of losing again or having everyone know what you are. That’s more understandable than you know. In fact, it’s one of the reasons I like you so much.”

“You like me because I’m a mess?” I asked, furrowing my brows. “That’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not. It makes you relatable.” He leaned in close, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Because whether you’ve realized it or not, we’re all a mess.

Every single one of us. Life is messy, that’s what makes it interesting.

” He looked up at me, his chin resting on my stomach.

“So why not just embrace it and be happy?”

My stomach twisted, my voice shaking. “But… it won’t last forever. And then it’ll hurt…”

“That’s true,” Rowan nodded. “But isn’t it worth it?”

I stared down at Rowan, his face open and earnest in the firelight. The way he looked at me made something in my chest ache—something I’d thought long dead. His question hung in the air between us, demanding an answer I wasn’t sure I had.

“I don’t know,” I finally said, my voice rough. “I’ve spent so long not letting myself feel anything that I’m not sure I remember how.”

Rowan’s hand found mine, his fingers interlacing with my calloused ones. “Maybe I could help with that.”

The simple touch sent a current through me, and I couldn’t stop myself from tightening my grip on his hand. “What happens when the snow clears, and you go back to town? What then?”

“Then I come back,” he said simply. “If you want me to.”

“And what about the rest of Sagebrush? What about your practice? Your reputation?”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Brooks, I’m a grown man. I can handle small-town gossip. ”

“You say that now, but?—”

“No,” he cut me off firmly. “I’m not going to let fear of what other people think dictate my happiness.

” He shifted, moving to sit beside me on the armchair, his thigh pressed against mine.

“I’ve already done that once. I let my ex control my life because I was afraid of rocking the boat. I’m not making that mistake again.”

I glanced sideways at him, taking in his determined expression. The fire cast shadows across his face, highlighting that scar on his jaw. Somehow, that little imperfection made him even more beautiful to me.

“You’re too damn stubborn for your own good,” I muttered.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Pot, meet kettle.”

Despite myself, I felt a chuckle rumble in my chest. “Fair enough.”

We sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds the crackling fire and Hank’s contented sighs as he settled back down on the rug.

“I can’t promise I won’t mess this up,” I finally said, my voice barely audible. “I ain’t been with anyone in a long time, Rowan. I don’t know if I remember how. Once this storm clears and the world comes crashing back in… I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.”

Rowan’s hand found mine again, his touch gentle but sure. “I’m not asking for a promise, Brooks. Or forever.” He leaned close, pressing his forehead against mine. “I’d just like a chance.”

My heart thudded wildly in my chest as I breathed him in. “I… I’ll try.”

Rowan smiled, pressing a small kiss to my cheek. “That’s all I can ask.”

Without a word, I wrapped him up in my arms, pulling him tightly against my body.

His warmth and presence made me feel like anything was possible.

But once that snow melted, I had no idea how I’d handle it.

I wanted to think it would be easy, that I could just focus on Rowan, and everything would work itself out.

But nothing in the world ever went that smoothly.

I wouldn’t know anything until the first speed bump came.

But for now, for this fleeting moment, Rowan was mine.