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"I didn't see you."
"Yeah, well, you weren't meant to," he said, meeting her brother's eyes over the top of her head.
Seth watched with his usual quiet intensity, but Aiden had no idea what he was thinking. He was acutely aware of the new tension between them. They'd lost the friendly ease they once had, the sense that they knew each other inside and out.
West cleared his throat and nodded toward the saddle. "Long time, Seth. Got something for me?"
For some reason, Aiden couldn't breathe normally again until Seth broke eye contact. That was when he noticed the old men giving them the hairy eyeball from the corner of the room.
"Ain't seen you in a long time, boy," Gus barked.
"I've had my hands full," Seth replied casually, meeting his gaze head-on. Maybe he'd been driven into the mountains by grief, shame, or wounded pride, but he wasn't cowed, not by a long shot. He stood, tall and defiant, beneath the weight of their unspoken censure.
"How many head are you running up there?" Gus asked.
"Enough." Seth's reply was cool.
Disdain twisted the old man's expression. He'd always been ornery and opinionated, but he was fair-minded. Aiden had never seen him so eager to dislike someone—at least, someone who hadn't been born in the city. When he opened his mouth, Aiden knew something acidic was about to come spilling out.
Aiden coughed—loudly—then strolled over to the poker game, pulled up a chair, and stuffed a fistful of potato chips into his mouth.
"Hey!" both old men cried at once, attention successfully diverted.
"Ante up, boys," Aiden declared, stretching theatrically and cracking his neck. "I haven't had lunch."
While August dealt the cards, Aiden kept half an eye on everyone else's business. He noted how delighted Tessa looked when Riley sidled up beside her and began flirting. But mostly, he observed the stiffness in Seth's body language, as if he was braced for the worst, and the way he suddenly relaxed when West looked over the saddle and said, "It's not something I can just slap some rawhide on and call it good…but I guess I can fix it up for around five hundred."
The grimace on West's face told Aiden he would be forking out a lot more than that.
Seth didn't flinch, but Aiden knew how painful the cost must be. He remembered yesterday's worn fence, ramshackle barn, and broken feed truck. The Double Jay was falling apart. Business costs were skyrocketing. Every year, small farms were hamstrung by new regulations that only giant corporations could afford to comply with, and livestock prices were falling despite the cost of beef shooting through the roof at the grocery store. Everyone was struggling. Even the Triple M had felt the pinch, and they were easily five times the size of Seth's small operation.
As Seth continued discussing the repair strategy with West, Aiden's thoughts drifted back to the skijoring flyer he'd stuffed in his back pocket. The grand prize loomed large in his mind, a tantalizing solution to so many problems. He knew what he had to do…and who he wanted to do it with.
When the McCall siblings eventually left the shop, Aiden dropped his cards and scrambled after them.
"Wait up!" he cried, jogging after them on the icy sidewalk.
Seth slowed his ground-eating strides just enough for Aiden to catch up. His tone was clipped when he asked, "What?"
"You don't have to be such a grump, you know," Aiden grumbled. "I'm trying to be your friend."
A muscle ticked in Seth's cheek. "You already thanked me for saving you. Don't make it weird."
"That's my whole brand, man," Aiden said, lighting up with his most winning grin.
Seth rolled his eyes and turned to leave, and Aiden panicked, grabbing him by the arm to stop him. Seth's bicep flexed, testing his strength, and for a split second, it felt like they were a breath away from violence. Aiden instantly dropped him, lifting his hands and backing up a few steps before things went sideways.
"Come on, Seth," Tessa urged, looking unhappy. "You promised me lunch at The Pig, remember?"
"Let me treat you," Aiden suggested, jumping on the opportunity.
Seth gritted his teeth so hard that Aiden thought he heard them squeak. "No."
"Come on," Aiden wheedled, easy breezy. Just a clown who wouldn't take no for an answer. "There's something I want to talk to you about."
Once, he would have grabbed the end of Seth's scarf and dragged him down the sidewalk like a dog on a leash, and Seth would have allowed it. He'd always treated Aiden's antics with tolerant amusement. Everything was different now. This distance between them wasn't natural, and Aiden was only just realizing how much he hated it. How much he'd always hated it.
Seth's eyes were like flint. "You want to talk? Fine. But not in public where everybody will be breaking their necks to gawk."
