Page 22 of The Cowboy's Bullfighter
“No problem. You want to come with me, sir?” Ricky stood, almost vibrating with the need to please.
Jesus, that was fucked-up.
This whole fucking thing was for shit, and he hated it.
“I do. I’m sorry, mates, but I need a nap in the worst way.”
Coop nodded to him, smiled. “Kiddos, tell Uncle Brooks good night.”
“Good night, Uncle Brooks,” they all parroted.
All but Benji, of course.
“Night, y’all. I’ll be better in the morning.”
He headed into the massive front room and grabbed his go bag from where he’d put it down.
“I can take that,” Ricky said.
He handed it over, because he thought the kid might burst into tears or fight him for it if he didn’t.
“Thanks, Ricky. You like it here?” he asked just to make conversation.
“O-M-G yes. It’s so nice to have a big house where we can all have space.” They clomped up the stairs, and there were all these neat framed pictures of rodeo folks and bullriders and bullfighters.
“Uncle Coop is wild. He works on this house every day. While we’re at school, he’s putting in floors and painting and retiling bathrooms.”
“Yeah? That’s cool…”
He didn’t know how Coop had enough money to do all this renovation. But then, who was he to talk? If some magazine did a thing on Brooks, they would call him a millionaire cowboy. Shit, what had he had to spend money on while he was in Australia? He’d taken a few trips and all, but that was it.
“Yeah. And we get to help sometimes.” Something about that caught his attention as they rounded the landing to the little third floor.
“You like working with your hands?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m into cars. Uncle Coop gave me an old truck when we moved in, and I have it working great.” Ricky beamed at him, lighting up. “But I’m into doing things where you can see it fixed.”
“That’s really cool. I’m a horse guy, myself.”
“Like a bronc rider?”
“Oh, I sucked at that. No, cutting and reining horses.”
“I saw that on thatYellowstoneshow. That’s rad.” Ricky stopped at a bedroom. “This is you. The bathroom is there.”
“You want to grab a shower? Oh, wait. You did. Uh, you want to brush your teeth and stuff before I take a shower?”
“Nah.” Ricky gave him another nervy smile. “I don’t really have a bedtime. You go ahead so you can sleep.”
“Thanks.”
“Uh, I’m sorry you just learned about Mom and Dad, Uncle Brooks. I know you loved them.”
Jesus. That almost doubled him right over. “I did. Very much, for all that we didn’t talk a lot. I loved them both.”
“Night.” And Ricky disappeared like smoke through the other bedroom door.
Brooks dropped his bag in his room, grabbed a pair of clean boxer briefs, and headed in to take a shower. Once he got the water hot, he leaned against the wall of the shower and let all of his shit out. He couldn’t scream, not and scare all the kids downstairs. So he let the great sobs take him instead.
