“I don’t know,” she said. “The insurance adjuster said we’d need a bulldozer to clear the debris, but we haven’t gotten the insurance money yet…” She shrugged, trying to project a confidence she didn’t feel. “I guess I’ll figure something out.”
“Leave it to me.”
The simple statement carried such quiet authority that Sierra felt her chest tighten. “Rowan, you don’t have to?—”
“Yes, I do.” He turned to face her, his blue eyes serious. “This is our home now. Our life. Let me handle the barn.”
Our home. Our life. The words sent warmth spreading through her chest, followed immediately by a terrible, familiar fear that tightened her throat.
“What if you change your mind?” The question slipped out before she could stop it.
“About what?”
“About this. About us. About staying.” Sierra’s voice grew smaller, more vulnerable than she intended. “What if you decide this is too complicated and you just…leave?”
Rowan studied her face with those penetrating blue eyes. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know. Learned behavior, I guess.” Sierra wrapped her arms around herself. “I’ve always been the one people leave. My parents, then you. Mike.”
“Mike? Detective Martinelli? What does he…oh…Oh.” He drew in a breath. “Now I get why he was so protective.”
She made a face. “Yeah, we dated. When Huck was about five years old. Just for a few months, but…it didn’t work.”
“Why not?”
“He wasn’t you. And he knew it, and I knew it. So, yeah…And he was pretty hurt. Said I had impossibly high standards and that I’d never be happy because I didn’t know how to let anyone help me.”
“Now I’m going to have to kill him.”
He didn’t look like he might be kidding. And his next question came out soft, a little broken. “Did you love him?”
Oh, Rowan.
“No.” The answer came easy. “I tried to. I wanted to give Huck a father, wanted to build something normal and stable. But like I said, Mike wasn’t…he wasn’t you.”
“Sierra…”
“I do have high expectations,” she continued, the words tumbling out in a rush. “For myself, for my son, for anyone who wants to be part of our lives. And maybe I am too self-reliant. Maybe I don’t know how to depend on other people. It’s just…it’s weird, you know? Depending on someone else. I’ve been taking care of myself and Huck for so long that letting someone else help feels…”
“Dangerous,” Rowan finished.
“Terrifying. Because what if I get used to it? What if I let myself believe in this, in us, and then you realize I’m not worth the trouble?”
Rowan set down his coffee and turned to face her fully, his hands framing her face with infinite gentleness. “Are you kidding me right now? Sierra Blackwood, you listen to me. You’ve raised an incredible son, you’ve kept this ranch running despite every obstacle thrown at you, and you’ve somehow managed to forgive me for leaving when you needed me most.”
His thumbs brushed away tears she didn’t realize had fallen.
“You wanna hear something crazy?” He grinned. “I was even jealous of Morrie,” he admitted, his voice rough. “The way he protects you, looks out for you. I thought maybe you two…”
“Morrie’s got his own wife,” Sierra said, a smile tugging at her lips. “He’s just protective because Grandpa asked him to look out for us before he died.”
“You want to know the truth?” Sierra’s voice grew stronger, more certain. “You’re the one, Row. You always have been. Even when I was eighteen and scared and pregnant, even when I thought you were dead, even when I tried to move on with Mike—it was always you.”
Something shifted in Rowan’s expression, a wall coming down that she hadn’t even realized was there.
“Sierra…” His voice was rough with emotion.
“I love you,” she said softly, but the words broke out, felt like freedom. “I loved you when we were kids, I loved you when you left, and I love you now. Whatever comes next, whatever happens with the ranch or the threats or telling Huck—I love you.”
