He knew better than to get involved in someone else’s problems. Even with the best intentions, the possibility of blowback was enormous.
If not me, then who?
Damn it.
He lowered his feet, placed his glass out of the way so he wouldn’t knock it over with his elbow, hit the on button on his computer, and pulled up a search engine.
This isstupid.
Maybe even reckless.
And probably a goddamn waste of time.
But the thought of Enya had burrowed under his skin like a splinter, and now he needed to pull the damn thing out before it drove him insane—or worse, festered. Before he could talk himself out of it, his fingers moved, and he tapped her name into the search engine and waited for the results to load.
He scrolled quickly down the page until he found her number and reached for his phone.
What the hell am I doing?
The right thing.
He opened up a message box and tapped out a message.
Rowan: Enya, just checking in to see how you are doing. Call me sometime. Rowan.
Before he could second-guess himself, the message vanished with a quiet whoosh,and he exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.
Well, that was a stupid move.
If he were fast enough, he could probably have Theo cancel the message before she saw it. But he decided if she had seen it come and just not opened it yet, doing so would be a shit move, even for him.
He reached for the glass, and the whiskey inside sloshed lazily against the sides as he lifted it. Rather than focus on the message he’d send, he figured those files he’d been determined to ignore a few minutes ago would be a good distraction while he waited to see if she’d reply. Rowan reached for the first set of vet reports and got to work. “If she’s smart, she’ll just ignore it.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The rumbleof a diesel engine filtered in through Enya’s open window. She turned from the mirror, where she’d been picking at the split ends of her hair, and peered into the yard at the truck and trailer rolling up the drive. Her pulse kicked up, thrumming in her throat.
Who is that?
She leaned closer, squinting against the late afternoon glare. The driver’s door swung open, and a man stepped out—tall, broad-shouldered, moving with the same easy confidence.
Is that Rowan?
Why is he here?
But then the man turned, and the light caught the jagged scar running from his temple down his cheek, pulling his lip into a permanent sneer.
That’s not Rowan.
Who knew the first real emotion I’d feel other than fear would be disappointment that his brother is here and he isn’t.
Enya’s fingers curled against the glass. She had no idea why he was here, but she watched her dad leave the house to greet him. Her father’s voice drifted in from outside. “Did you get lost? We were expecting you at noon.”
“Nope, trailer got a flat on the highway, I had to fight it to change it out.”
“Damn, sorry about that,” her dad replied. “You want something to eat or some coffee?”
“No, sir, I should be heading on home, so we can settle him in before dark. Thanks for the offer, though.”
