Page 62 of Brett and Rowdy
“But not your thing,” Brett guessed.
Rowdy snorted. “Well, last time I saw a sunset was fifteen very long years ago.”
“So when you work, do you work in here?” Brett glanced around, picturing a big ranch office.
“I have an office, sure, but there are a set of offices in my dad’s house, and it opens up into the actual working part of the ranch. So that’s where we all tend to work. The buyers meet there. The BLM guys. All that stuff. It’s a big area, and really…” Rowdy shrugged. “I’ll be honest; I really like to keep strangers out of this part of the house. I don’t like when things are aggravated around here.”
That must have driven Rowdy crazy when Madison was a little one. “So did y’all build Madison her own place?”
Rowdy shook his head. “No. That used to be my gramps and granny’s. They lived there their whole lives. They passed away in a car accident together about a year and a half ago. And so, it just seemed logical she take that space. They were going to give it to her and move into a condo closer to Santa Fe. In fact, that’s what they were doing when they had their accident.”
Ouch. He winced, because he had to. “Damn, I’m sorry. That sucks.”
“Yeah, it was hard, but…” Rowdy shrugged. “That’s out of my hands.”
“Really? That’s enough for you. Just… it’s out of my hands?” He didn’t think he could be that cool.
Mr. Mann looked to be okay. He was snuffling and snorting his way around, so Brett let Rowdy lead him through into the small, if perfectly fancy, kitchen area.
“This is one thing that I have to admit, man. After I lost my sight, there have been many times in my life where I just had to say, ‘it’s out of my hands.’ Otherwise I would have lost a lot of years screaming into the void about why this and please God that. It’s a simplistic way to live, and I get that. But it helps me keep my shit together, and that helps me raise my kid and run my business and have a good life. I’m happy, you know. Even with all the challenges, I’m so lucky.”
“Well, I—” He had no idea what to say to that. He didn’t get it, but he didn’t suppose it was his business to. If it worked for Rowdy, that was good enough. “I like the fireplace.”
“There’s one in every room except for the kitchen. This is the old adobe, and so literally, this house was built before there was heat. I mean, we have a furnace now, but there is a fireplace in every single room.”
“So… speaking of rooms…” He really needed to know where he was staying.
Rowdy grinned. “Yeah?”
“Are you and me? I mean…” God, he was an idiot.
“If you’re going to ask whether or not I want you to sleep in my bedroom, then yes. If you want your own room, you’re not going to hurt my feelings one bit. Well, maybe a little bit, but I will totally understand. Then there is a guest room. And from everything I’ve ever heard, it’s perfectly nice. It used to be Madison’s when she was a little girl, so it’s probably still pink, but it’s perfectly nice.”
“Pink, huh?” Brett chuckled. “Well, that might put me off my feed, so I guess I’ll have to stay with you.”
“Anything to keep you hale and healthy, man.”
Brett had to kiss that smile. Had to. So he closed in, giving Rowdy plenty of time to feel him, and he took the kiss he wanted so bad, listening to Mr. Mann’s happy play bark, which he knew so well.
Someone was making friends.
Rowdy hummed against his lips, but they parted when Madison called to them. “Come eat before it gets cold, you two!”
“Coming!” Rowdy patted his hip. “We’ll pick this up later.”
“We so will. And I can take my bags to my room anytime.”
Mr. Mann set up a howl, but his head was down, his butt was up, and his tail was going ninety to nothing. He was going to be fine.
“Come on.” Rowdy led him back out the door and to a huge communal kitchen where they had an eat-in table that looked like something out of a southwest style magazine—all rough-hewn wood and native rug-type fabric. The carving made him whistle in appreciation.
“That’s hand done.”
Rowdy’s dad nodded. “My cousin Santiago.”
“Nice.” He plopped down in a chair next to Rowdy.
Rowdy’s dad held out one hand to shake. “I don’t think my rude son introduced us fully. I’m Ezra Duran, and you’re Brett.”
