The memory was so vivid she could almost feel his hands on her waist again, could almost taste the cotton candy and excitement in the air. They’d been so young, so sure they had forever stretching ahead of them.
“Mom, watch!” Huck’s voice snapped her back to the present.
Her son threw the lasso with surprising precision, the loop sailing toward the practice dummy and settling neatly around one of its horns. Huck whooped and turned to Rowan with shining eyes.
“I did it!”
“You sure did.” Rowan’s smile was pure pride. “Natural talent.”
Natural talent. Sierra’s heart squeezed.
“Try it again,” Rowan said.
As Huck reset his position, Rowan glanced over at Sierra. “He’s good. Really good for his age.”
“He’s been practicing since he was six.” The words came out steady, but Sierra’s pulse hammered. “My grandfather taught him the basics.”
“Your grandfather was a good teacher.” Rowan’s voice held history. “He taught me a lot too.”
For a second, Rowan’s eyes searched hers, and Sierra felt like he could see straight through to her soul. All the secrets, all the years of silence, all the guilt she’d carried.
Tell him. The conviction hit her like a hammer. Tell him now.
“Got it!” Huck’s shout interrupted her. The rope had indeed caught the dummy’s horns, and Huck was doing a victory dance that involved a lot of arm pumping.
Rowan walked over to the fence, laughing. “That’s some celebration.”
“Yeah, well, he never does anything halfway.” She glanced at Rowan.
He looked pure cowboy in the light of the arena, a little dusty, his shirt rolled up over his strong forearms, a little whisker grizzle on his skin.
Oh boy. She looked away.
“You okay? You seem…” Rowan’s gaze lingered on her face.
“I’m fine.” The lie tasted bitter. She wasn’t fine. She was terrified and hopeful and guilt-ridden and…oh, shoot—maybe still painfully in love with Mr. Not Sticking Around.
What was she doing letting him into her house? Her life? “Just thinking about things.”
“What kind of things?”
The question hung in the air between them.
“We’re breaking for lunch.” Huck jogged back over, rope coiled in his hands. “Can we come back for the afternoon session?”
The moment shattered. Sierra closed her mouth, the words swallowed back down.
“Sure,” Rowan said.
Huck climbed over the fence. “You ever done any breakaway roping, or tie-down?”
“Some,” Rowan said, with a smile tugging up his face.
Huck looked at his rope, back out to the arena. “But I bet I could learn pretty fast if I had the right teacher.”
He looked hopefully at Rowan, and Sierra’s heart clenched at the naked adoration in her son’s eyes. Sure, Morrie had filled in, tried to be a sort of father figure. And then there was Mike, for a little while. But really, it had been Great-Grandpa who’d filled that role.
Now, watching Huck and Rowan together felt like watching pieces of a puzzle finally click into place.
