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“Sometimes, we can’t explain why.” Richard brought out his handkerchief and wiped his mouth. “But I love her. And she loves me. She’ll never marry either of you. I’d marry her before that happens.”
Gregory was standing just off to the side, looking very pleased that he had caused them to fight. Rafe wanted to beat him as well for riling them up.
This was not happening.
“What is going on here?!”
The bellow made Richard turn. Blackmore was storming over to them, looking outraged. The sight of his father’s fury made Richard back down a little, but not much.
“I get to the stables, and I realise the four of you are not there anymore. Now I find you fighting.” He looked from one man to another. “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, Father,” Sebastien said before anyone else could speak. “Just a disagreement over something.”
“Then why is Richard bleeding?”
Richard wiped the last of the blood off his face and shoved his handkerchief into his pocket.
“It just got out of hand, my lord. Nothing more.”
Blackmore’s expression said he clearly didn’t believe it. He shook his head and focused his scowl on Rafe.
“I’ll be having a word with you later, Rafe. We need to discuss how we’re going to deal with that temper of yours. Now, let’s get moving. I don’t want to waste the day dealing with grown men arguing like children.”
He stalked away, and Sebastien gently moved Rafe aside.
“Don’t do it,” he whispered. “It’s not going to be worth it. Let it be for now.”
Rafe wanted to argue, but he knew his brother was right. This was not something to do now. But later, once they were alone, that would be a different story.
Rafe pointed at Richard.
“This is not over. We’re going to finish this later.”
“Rafe….”
Rafe ignored his friend’s protests, turning to Gregory, who was still smirking.
“Happy now? Or would you like to say something else to ruin the day?”
Before the older man could respond, Rafe strode away, anger still making him shake. How could he forgive Richard after doing something like that? His closest friend had just taken the one woman he loved away, and he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal.
Rafe would make it a big deal, and Richard would regret it.
***
South Fork, Colorado, 1818
“Mowbray! You in there?”
Rafe put down the bale of hay he had been moving across the loft and flexed his fingers. The bales certainly had gotten lighter over the years as he got used to the hard work, but he would never get used to the string digging into his fingers.
He went over to the ladder and looked down. Steven Marsh was below, pushing his hat back so he could look up into the loft.
“What is it?”
“What are you doing up there?”
“Just getting things tidied up.”
