14. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

As he packed, Sig felt like he’d fucked up badly. If Rowan wasn’t afraid of him yet, he might grow to be.

Sitting hard on the bed, head in his hands, he lamented what he’d done. They were only red-hued flashes of memory for him. His fist smashing into their smug faces, seeing the blood fly from their broken noses, watching a piece of tooth sliding down from the lip of one of the men while the other cowered in a corner.

The entire thing felt as if he was watching it on some screen. It couldn’t have been him. It was impossible that it was him, and yet it was.

Rowan knocked on the jamb of the door, and Sig looked over, still feeling guilty as hell. “Hey.”

“Hey, Sigmund. Can you stop feeling like shit?”

“I don’t think that’ll happen for a while. I thought I was old enough to not act like some insane idiot.”

Rowan sat next to him, taking his right hand and laying it on his lap. “How bad are your hands?”

“Bad enough to get me ten years in the pokey for assault and battery.”

“Ouch. Well, I know you’re going to keep feeling bad, but…I have never had anyone do for me what you did. Maybe it was over the top, but still, I feel like I finally have a guy who will protect me and love me to the ends of the earth. You don’t know how that makes me feel, Sigmund.”

“I told you I loved you. I get it, you’ve probably heard it a lot, and it was pretty shallow from a lot of guys, but not me. When I love, it’s not just deep, it’s all of me.”

To see Rowan’s smile was all he ever needed. To part from him was going to be hard, though, but it had to happen. They had to see if the short time they’d spent together was some fluke, some winter romance that would be looked back on with affection, or if it would continue.

“When you go home…think about your life and what it would look like for me to be in it.”

“I have a few gigs. I have a house I need to deal with. I get what you’re saying, Sig, and I agree. We have to be adults about this, but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss you every fucking second.”

Sig brought him close and kissed his temple. “You’re special. No matter what the fuck happens with us, don’t forget you’re more than what you do for a living.”

Rowan nodded and sniffed, and Sig knew tears were forming again, and he didn’t know if he could handle it. “Get packed and I’ll get Jace to get you to the airport.”

“I’m packed. I just wanted to spend some time with you before we leave.”

Sig turned to him, smiling, and wiped a couple of rogue tears that had fallen on his beautiful cheeks. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“God, you have no idea how much I’ll miss you. I want to get through these next few weeks fast, then come see you. Is that okay?”

Weeks sounded like the longest stretch of time he could imagine. He had to be brave, even if his heart was breaking. “That’s so okay. That’s perfect.”

“Come help me get my bags down to the living room, then we’ll sit and just be together for a while.”

When Sig walked into the room, the big suitcase was open, and on the bed next to it was the rose he’d made for Rowan. He picked it up, remembering each knife cut, each rub with the sandpaper. “I’ve never made anything so pretty.”

“I’ve never gotten anything so pretty.”

Knowing he’d likely gotten trips, jewels, and more from lovestruck clients, that meant a lot to him. “I’ll make a few more so you have enough for a nice bouquet.”

“I’m going to expect that!”

Sitting on the couch once the bags were set by the door, Sig kissed him for an hour. It was a goodbye kiss with the hope that it wasn’t goodbye forever.

Rowan fit him. Curled up, legs tucked under him, molded into Sig’s side, Rowan fit like a glove. His sweet breath, warm mouth, sweet, cool hand moving over Sig’s chest, he fit…

When Roland came to drive Rowan to the airport, Sig held back tears, but Rowan was unable to. He held Sig and cried for a good three minutes straight, then bolted for the door, and Sig watched them drive away with a weight on his chest.

Jace came as he was still standing outside the door, and he got into the vehicle wordlessly, unable to speak because he knew if he did, the damn would break, and his tears would flood his world. When he got home, he had twenty horses that ran to greet him as soon as he pulled in with his truck that had been parked in long-term parking at the airport. He hated to see the thing because it meant that he was home alone. Rowan was or would soon be in California.

The horses made it a little better, though. He was surrounded the moment he’d gotten out of the truck, noses nudging him, whinnying, braying, snorting, one pushing another out of the way to get to him. His children.

Most were rescues, and in fact, Polly, the mare nudging his head her white nose had been so thin, all her ribs shown starkly, and she’d had no hair on her mane or her tail. Healthy and happy, she was his favorite in a sea of favorites.

“Hey, guys, I think I found the guy I could love forever. Now what?”

They didn’t answer, but he looked into their eyes like they understood.

“Let’s get back to the business at hand. I bet you all would love some sugar and some apples. Let me get unpacked, and I’ll get them right out here.”

They followed him to the back door of his house, the one that opened into his kitchen. It was a great kitchen, with Spanish tile on the floor, matching tile on the backsplash, and all new appliances because the original stove and fridge had given out the previous year.

After he unpacked, he looked into the spare room and saw a little dance studio for Rowan. He could put in mirrored closet doors and, across from them, one of those ballet bars.

Just as he’d guessed, everything in his home reminded him of Rowan. Like it had of Jake.

Speaking of which, he got the picture from his nightstand of the man. Young, healthy, and beautiful, years before his death. His sparkling green eyes looked right into his. “Yeah, I know. I’m in love again. I never thought it would happen. This is why I didn’t leave the damn farm!”

Those eyes just stared more. Sig knew exactly what Jake would say. Stop worrying about me. Stop worrying about everything and be happy for once.

For the next few days, Sig tried to get back into the swing of the farm, and he did enjoy his horses, did enjoy his home, but something was missing.

Someone was missing.

Rowan texted and called, but he was readying for his gigs, getting in some workouts, and practicing his dances. Sig couldn’t keep him on the line as long as he’d have liked.

Then, the calls got fewer and fewer. Sig began to carve the roses for the bouquet he’d promised. He had seven before the end of the month when Jace called to warn him Dallas McIntrye would be there to collect the horses that Saturday.

He called Rowan, who was on the road. “Hey! Sorry I haven’t called, but things have been crazy. I’ve gotten a few new gigs, so I can’t promise I’ll be there before summer.”

In other words, Rowan’s life was progressing, and their love affair was just that—a winter romance to be remembered as fond memories.

“It’s okay, Rowan. I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

“Thanks. I’ll call you as soon as I get back home.”

The call was over, and his heart felt like it shattered. When Sig went outside to get some air because he felt as if his chest would implode, Polly was there, eating some grass by the porch. “Well, Polly, looks like I made all those damn roses for myself.”

She lifted her head and started over to him, nudging his stomach. “Good girl. You know, you’re my best friend, right?”

She snorted and left him to eat more grass.

“Thanks. I confess my feelings, and you’d rather eat. Seems to be the story of my life. I confess, then get forgotten.”

He got a call, and he hoped it was Rowan, but it wasn’t. It was Dallas McIntyre. “Hey, Dallas, how are you? You on your way?”

“I am almost there. I had a few things come up along the way or I’d be there already.”

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

Dallas chuckled and said, “Well, you’ll see when I get there. See you soon, Sig.”

Hearing the voice of a guy from the place where he met Rowan was badly timed. It was much worse when the truck pulled in, and both the driver’s door and the horse trailer were emblazoned with the place's name and brand.

Dallas had his window rolled down, laughing. “It’s warm here!”

“It’s still winter,” he said, walking over to the truck. “But warmer than Montana, for sure.”

He proffered his hand to Dallas and that’s when he saw it. The cast. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Slipped on some ice in St. Martin, Colorado, and broke it. Speaking of which…I am gonna need some help, you know, loading the horses, and all that goes with that.”

Sig was ready to lose his cool. “Dallas, you can’t drive them all the way to Montana with one arm! You’re driving a trailer, and it’ll be full of horses, and even if they weren’t worth a combined total of almost a million dollars, they’re good horses that I am not about to let go all that way with a guy with a handicap!”

Dallas hung his head and sheepishly asked, “Can…can you maybe come with me?” He looked up and rushed, “I mean, I thought about that, of course, and they’re your horses, or, they were, and they know you, and I’m sure we can get you a plane right back here!”

Going to Carrillo Ranch didn’t seem like a dream come true right then. “It’s about the last place I want to be right now,” he started, and his chest hurt a little more.

“You and Rowan…not working out, huh?”

“You know about that?”

“Sorry, man, but the way you beat the crap out of those guys…it’s become legendary there, at least in our small circles. No worries, no one knows outside of the few of us.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

Dallas got out of the truck and stretched, looking around his place. “This is a nice spread.”

“I like it okay. Come on into the house, and I’ll fix ya some food and get you a beer. Looks like you could use it.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Inside, with Dallas eating, sipping the beer he’d been served in the kitchen, Sig walked into the living room to call a couple of his ranch hands to let them know he’d be gone for a couple of days. He planned on getting there, unloading, assuring the horses were okay, and then getting on a plane back as soon as they could arrange it.

One hour more that he had to be at Carrillo Ranch, and he’d lose the little bit of sanity he’d been holding onto.

Everyone was on board to be around for the time he’d be gone. He made up the spare bed for Dallas and let him catch some sleep while he packed a small bag, and while he was packing, he caught sight of the wood bouquet he’d made.

It sat atop his dresser in a cheap glass vase. That’s what his heart felt like, a cheap glass vase, only his heart was empty. He had an idea. Walking to the dresser, he took the wooden roses into his grip and whispered, “They say to write a letter and let it flow away in a river. I wonder if I did that with all of you, it would work the same. A last goodbye to the guy I…”

He couldn’t finish, couldn’t say the word, even to himself.

He tossed the roses into his bag, zipped it, and then caught a nap, though all he did was toss and turn.

When they were ready to head out, Dallas helped him as much as he could to load the horses into the trailer. The cast made it nearly impossible for him to do a lot, but he did try. For Sig, that was enough.

After the horses were loaded and ready to go, Sig looked at his phone, wondering if he should leave a message for Rowan. He left one last message, telling the guy that he understood and that all was forgiven.

The only thing was that would be a lie. It wasn’t forgiven and he didn’t understand. The love he felt…it hadn’t faded a bit. He loved him more if that was possible.

He stuffed the phone in his back pocket, and they set out for Montana. The road was long, but it was a straight shot, and the weather looked like it would be tame all the way north.

Dallas was on the phone with Jace, letting him know to have the plane ready for Sig once he got there. “He doesn’t want to stay, even for the night. Make sure he can take off right away.”

“Sure. I get it. You and Rowan…?”

“There is no me and Rowan. He’s…he’s got a career. He’s making money and he can’t settle down with some old codger on a ranch. I don’t really want to talk about it, Jace.”

“Sure, buddy. I get it. Just get up here safe, you guys and we’ll get you back home the same way.”

Dallas ended the call and said, “We won’t mention him again. I’m just sorry.”

“I guess that the winning streak for relationships that started on Carrillo Ranch didn’t make it to me and him. Hope your boss doesn’t feel too bad about that.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”