Page 20 of Brett and Rowdy
“Yes.” Her grin was absolutely joyous. “I so did. And I am so glad. I have a hotel room. I took a shower that no one interrupted. I have to tell you guys, there’s no one waiting for me in it. I can sleep until I wake up. It’s heaven on earth. No one has called me mom in almost twelve hours!”
Rowdy shook his head. “I know it’s a cliche, but one day you’ll miss it.”
“Shut up.” Ashley popped him on the arm, hard. “You’re taking her home with you, dammit. You get to hear her call you daddy every day.”
Rowdy didn’t argue. “I do.”
“Are you divorced?”
Rowdy shook his head. “No, we never got married, but we are the best of friends.”
It was funny how many of his friends he hadn’t slept with.
He sat there, kind of just watching Rowdy. The man was leathered and tan, deep smile lines around his eyes. There was a surety to him, a strength, and there was also this understated… maybe wealth about him? He wasn’t flashy. There was a solid gold watch, a single gold chain around his neck, and on his right hand, there was a ring with a black sapphire in the center of it. It wasn’t flashy, but it did scream money somehow.
Maybe that was just the fact that he knew about the ranch.
The little glasses perched on the bridge of Rowdy’s nose made him angry, somehow, like the little round wire frames were for show.
“Why do you wear the dark glasses?”
Rowdy turned his head like he was looking at him. “What?”
“The glasses. It’s an affectation.”
“Brett!” Ashley said, and his cheeks heated, but he didn’t argue.
“No. I work in the sun, and that can cause headaches. Also, I can’t control the way that my eyes move around, and that makespeople intensely uncomfortable. So I tend to wear them, because that way you don’t have to look at them. I don’t wear them around family and friends unless I’m working outside.”
He snorted softly. “But we are neither family nor friends, that’s for sure.”
Rowdy chuckled. “Not even old friends, huh?”
“No. Not really, I mean. You don’t know anything about me.”
That earned him a shrug. “So tell me.”
Well, he hadn’t expected that. He wasn’t sure what hehadexpected. Maybe for Ashley to have told Rowdy about him. Maybe for Rowdy not to care. He wasn’t really sure.
But now Rowdy was just watching—well, facing him. God that was weird.
“I’m a farrier.”
“No shit? That’s cool.” Rowdy nodded as if it was actually something.
He supposed it was a thing in Rowdy’s world too. “It’s just horseshoes.”
“Dude, Brett,” Crystal snapped. “You’re a fucking metal artist. He’s selling all over the country. He’s in Santa Fe. He’s in DC now, New York. He was a farrier. He’s an artist.”
That went over like water over a duck’s back. “Well, I have way more experience with farriers and horseshoes, but that’s cool. You still at your grandpa’s place? Is that where you have your studio or do you?—”
“No, I’m at my grandpa’s. It’s not ideal, but it works, and I’m happy there. It’s paid for so I can do what I want to.” That made it easier.
“That’s important.” Rowdy sipped his beer. “So like, do you make people?”
“No, I make art from metal, like sheets of metal. It’s very abstract. It’s… I’m… creating a feeling more than anything.” God, he hated this part. It was one thing to have to give yourartist statement to another artist. It was a completely different thing to try to explain art to a blind man who he wasn’t sure had any art in him.
“I don’t get it. I’m sure if I could see it, I would, but it’s just tough for me to imagine. I mean, it’s been a long time. It’s not going to be very long before the accident will have been half of my life ago.”
