33. Seth

Chapter Thirty-Three

SETH

Seth would have been furious at Aiden for leaving his last paycheck like some sort of parting gift, but it was going to come in handy. As soon as the checks cleared his bank account, he implemented the next step of his plan.

It was early morning when he parked in front of Barbara Doyle's picture-perfect house. Tension knotted his shoulders as he crossed the neatly manicured front yard. Two golden retrievers bolted from around the side of the house, barking joyfully and slinging melting slush all over his jeans. Seth paused to greet them, grateful for the distraction. He ruffled their damp ears, steeling himself for the confrontation. Aiden's mother had never intimidated him, but he knew that despite everything, her opinion mattered to Aiden—and so it mattered to Seth.

Barbara opened the door before he could fully raise a fist to knock. "What do you want?" she asked in an icy tone.

"Afternoon, Barbara," Seth greeted, forcing a smile. "I'd like to talk to you."

Her lips compressed in a thin line. "I don't see why," she said with a sniff. "The only thing we've ever had in common is Aiden, and he's gone now. Thanks to you, no doubt. He didn't even have the courtesy to say goodbye to me in person. He didn't even call his mother when he crawled out of town like a worm. He sent me a text."

She was trying to hide it, but her voice sounded thick with tears.

Seth took a deep breath. It didn't bode well for the rest of the conversation if he couldn't manage to hang onto his temper upfront. "Aiden doesn't like confrontation," he said calmly.

She scoffed, snorting inelegantly through her nose. "He's scared of his own shadow. Always has been. I raised him to be a man of honor, and this is how he repays me. He said he'd send some money for my new roof once he got settled, but that hardly excuses running away, now does it?"

Seth's jaw creaked from the force of his grinding teeth, but he managed to keep his tone pleasant when he said, "That's why I'm here. He left the cash with me."

Her perfectly lined eyes widened. Seth couldn't help but notice they were the exact same shade of summer blue as Aiden's, and he softened despite himself. No matter how easy she made it, it was impossible to hate the woman Aiden loved so much.

"Come in," Barbara said, holding the door open reluctantly. "But make it quick."

The house was a Martha Stewart hellscape of throw pillows and fake flowers. Seth's skin itched at the sterile cleanliness. He couldn't imagine what it had felt like for Aiden to grow up in such an environment, how terrified he must have been when he accidentally smeared jelly on the cabinets or forgot to pick up his Legos. It explained the almost deliberate negligence with which he treated his own belongings.

Seth reluctantly took a seat on a brocade sofa when Barbara directed him, accidentally crushing a satin pillow beneath him. He set the pillow aside, half-heartedly rearranging the mussed tassels while Aiden's mother frowned.

"Why would he leave anything with you?" she asked bitterly. Seth noticed with amusement that she remained standing, pulling out all the stops of a boardroom negotiation, as if he wasn't already used to her looking down her nose at him. "All he left for me was a message that he was working out of town. This is your fault, isn't it?"

"What makes you say that?" Seth asked curiously.

"I'm not blind," she said in a scathing tone. "I've always known that my son had feelings for you. He worshipped the ground you walked on back when he was a teenager. It was all I ever heard— Seth says this, Seth thinks that —as if nothing else mattered but your good opinion. It was inappropriate. I was so relieved when you cut him loose. I thought my son could finally move on and grow into his own man without your influence. Little did I know that you'd slither back into his life and poison him against me once more. That boy was always too soft for his own good."

She turned her back on him, smoothing her skirt in a self-soothing gesture, before wandering over to the fireplace mantel. A photo of a young, grinning Aiden sat amid the fake flowers and gleaming figurines. He perched on a fence beside Bandit, dressed in a cap and gown for his high school graduation. Her fingers trailed over the ornate silver frame.

"I wanted more for him, you know," she said quietly. "I wanted my son to rise above this nothing town and make something of himself. Then he met you, and all our plans for his future disappeared. He turned into just another yokel from a hick town, gleefully ignorant of everything he's missing out on."

Seth's eyes narrowed. "With all due respect, those were always your plans, ma'am. Never his. Aiden is a good, strong man. That's all that should matter to you."

"Oh, spare me," Barbara snapped, whirling on him with a sudden flash of irritation. "We both know Aiden is perfectly content to just drift through life wherever the wind takes him. No ambition, no drive. But I suppose that's exactly what you always wanted from him—to keep him chained to that godforsaken ranch while it falls down around your ears. Well, where has that gotten you now? Aiden's gone. He left you—left us both."

Seth's stomach twisted painfully. The hollow ache somewhere below his ribcage seemed to grow with her words. They stung, no matter how he tried to convince himself they weren't true. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

"Aiden didn't leave me," he said evenly, "and he'll be back. I know that in my heart."

Barbara's laughter was condescending. "You're kidding yourself. My son finally got some sense and left this miserable town in the dust. We won't ever see him again."

God, no. The visceral terror of her words felt like a punch to the balls. Seth couldn't allow himself to even think she might be right. It would cripple him. He cracked his neck and stood. "With all due respect, ma'am, you don't know your son at all if you believe that. Aiden loves this town. He loves the people here, he loves you—and he loves me."

Barbara opened her mouth, but Seth cut her off before she could spit any more venom. Her words were a twisted combination of her own hopes and fears. They had nothing to do with him. "I didn't come here to argue," he said firmly. "I came because Aiden wanted to help with your roof. It was important to him."

He dug an envelope from his back pocket and held it out. She eyed the envelope like it might bite before snatching it from his hand and breaking the seal. Her brows lifted as she counted the bills inside.

"He didn't earn this," she said accusingly. "It's too much."

"It's not just for the roof," Seth acknowledged. "I'm buying Bandit."

Her head snapped up in surprise. It was the first time Seth had ever seen her caught off guard. "Bandit's not for sale," she retorted sharply, but her expression was uneasy. She sounded almost afraid.

Seth looked her dead in the eye. "We both know that horse belongs to Aiden. You don't want him, and you don't need him. He's a tool for you to bribe Aiden with, but you never needed it. Your son will always be there when you need him, whether you deserve it or not, because that's the kind of man he is. He doesn't give up on people. When the whole town thought the worst of me, he was the only one who never turned his back on me. When I hurt him and pushed him away, he never hated me. He was there for me, ready to help when I let him back in. That's why I have faith that he'll come back when he's ready—and when he does, he'll visit you whether or not you're keeping that horse hostage."

The scented, recirculated air in the room felt heavy. Aiden's mother didn't speak for a long time. She folded her arms around her midsection in a gesture that looked more defensive than she probably realized.

"Take the money," Seth said, softening his tone to sound like a suggestion and not a command. "When Aiden comes home, use this as your chance to start fresh with him."

She couldn't meet his eyes, but he saw the war between doubt and hope in her expression. Her voice wavered when she asked, "What will you do if he never comes home?"

He'd never liked this woman, and he'd never forgive her for the hell she'd put Aiden through growing up, but he suddenly pitied her. Maybe Aiden was right when he'd said her need to control everything was just a way to mask her fears. It must be a terrible way to live.

"I'll wait," he said simply. "However long it takes. I'll be in Aiden's corner for the rest of his life, no matter what."

Despite his false confidence, he hadn't truly believed Aiden's mother would agree, and he didn't rest easily until Bandit was settled in the paddock with Diamond later that night. He stood at the living room window, staring at the dark silhouette of the barn and wishing he could call Aiden with the good news. Respecting his decision was killing him. It felt like he was bleeding out on the floor with each passing minute.

"You're thinking about Aiden again," Tessa said, approaching quietly from behind.

Seth sighed and let the curtains drop closed. "Can't seem to help it," he admitted, turning to meet his sister's eyes. "He can't stay out of trouble on his own. What if something happens?—"

"Without you to make all his decisions for him?" Tessa asked pointedly.

Seth hesitated, and then his mouth snapped closed. "That's not what I meant," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I know." Her tone was fond, and her eyes were full of sympathy. She stretched her hands out toward the fire grate and wiggled her fingers, soaking in the warmth. "I understand it better now, you know, now that I have Riley. What it's like to worry about someone you love, I mean."

Seth closed his eyes, wishing he felt anything but despair. "It's killing me," he admitted in a whisper. "I can't stop thinking about him. He's out there somewhere, hurting, and I don't even know where he went. I just have to sit here and let it happen."

"Yeah, but you're not just sitting around, are you?" Tessa asked, raising her brows. "That new horse in the barn says otherwise—and what's with the boxes in the hallway? What are you planning?"

Seth ran a hand through his hair, fingers pulling at the tangled ends, reminding him of all the times Aiden had played with the strands in bed. He could still hear his laughter, feel the weight of his lanky body on top of him, and see the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

Aiden had burrowed so deep into Seth's heart that it felt hollow without him. Seth had always loved him, but it was different now that he'd truly been with him. He couldn't just go on like it hadn't happened. He'd sensed it the first time they met; their paths had always been meant to join. He had to believe they would find their way back to each other.

He cleared his throat and said roughly, "First, I'm going to find him. I don't know how long it'll take, but I won't stop until I do. Then I'm bringing him home."

"Didn't he sell his trailer?"

Seth shook his head. "I'm going to move him into the ranch house. He needs a home, Tessa. A real one. I want to be that for him. I—I figured you wouldn't mind."

"You know I don't." She reached out like a little girl wanting a hug, but they both knew she wasn't the one who needed it. Seth stepped into her embrace, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist and squeeze it tight. "You're the best brother a girl could ask for," she mumbled into his chest. "You've spent your whole life concerning yourself with everyone else's happiness—Mom and Dad, Aiden, and me. You deserve to be happy, too. I'll help you. Whatever it takes."

"Thanks, Tess," Seth murmured, cupping the back of her head to hold her close. His eyes stung, and a lump rose in his throat, but he swallowed them back down. If he gave into despair now, he'd never pull out of it, and there was too much to do. He had no time for self-pity. He had to keep moving forward—for Aiden and their future.

Seth was going to find him, no matter how long it took, and then he would bring him home where he belonged.