Page 26 of Brett and Rowdy (Gomillion High Reunion #5)

Chapter Fifteen

R owdy woke up about six, Brett sleeping hard beside him, soft snores filling the air. By six thirty, he was showered and dressed, shaved, and sitting in the dining room.

All the dogs were out, he had a cup of coffee, and he could smell bacon and green chile. Life was good.

Thank God and Greyhound, he was home.

Rose bustled in from the pantry, the squeaky door announcing her like a butler. “Senior Rowdy. You made it.”

“I did.” And thank goodness for it.

“Who is the floopy dog?”

Floopy dog. So cute. “This is Mr. Mann. He belongs with Brett, my—” Lover? Friend? Collaborator in crime? Fuck buddy? “…guest.”

“He’s cute.” She bustled around, some morning show on the television. “And how is our little one?”

“Home for good. Exhausted. I’m sure she was up with Dad most of the night chatting.” Maddie and Dad were two peas in a pod, so they were either fighting or thick as thieves.

“It’s good for them. He’s missed her.”

“Yeah, so have I.” But he didn’t have to anymore. Now it was Ash’s turn. “What smells good?”

“Burritos. I think everyone’s going to want to come and say hi to you, so this seemed the smartest answer.” She chuckled softly. “I’ll make huevos rancheros Saturday morning.”

“Good woman.” He nodded—both about the food and the fact that he’d been gone for over three weeks.

Everyone was going to want to bend his ear, and he needed to sink back into his work.

“Well, there’s no bad where your burritos are concerned, that’s for sure.

” He shook his head and smiled. “I’m damn glad to be home. ”

“I bet you are. That was a long visit this time.”

He nodded, but he knew this was probably going to be the last long visit for a while. “But I’m home for the duration.”

“Good, we need you here. It’s time for a new foreman, I hear, so you’ll have your hands full.”

“Yeah. Eduardo says he’s gonna stay on forever, but Frank’s gonna leave us, finally. He’s thinking about retiring up to Colorado, so we have to find someone to help deal with all this shit. And Maddie’s got a ton of ideas, you know?”

And she could start with training the new foreman.

“Yeah, El Jefe said. They’re gonna butt heads.”

He couldn’t fight his smile. “Yep, and I’m not gonna have anything to do with that. I’m just gonna nod and smile.”

He and his dad had fought about things when he was a young man. And Dad could fight with Maddie now, because everybody knew Rowdy was the boss.

“What you want for dinner tonight?”

“Uh, we had burgers last night.”

She snorted. “Blake’s. I saw the trash.”

Lord, he could hear her wrinkle her nose. “Yes. How about enchiladas? I haven’t had good Mexican food in weeks.”

“That’s because there’s no good Mexican food there.”

“No. They got nice fish though. Way better, way better seafood than we can get.”

Rose started laughing at him. “Well, Mr. Rowdy, there’s no sea here.”

“No, there’s not. We can get some good trout, though.” Another cup of coffee appeared at his wrist about the time he finished his first, and Frank came wandering in at that second with a hello.

“Howdy, Boss. How goes it?”

“Glad to be home. Tickled shitless, in fact. How’s it going here?”

“Well, we’ve moved all the cattle up to the high range. Mustangs are looking good. We went in and gave immunizations. We’re moving the sheep and the goat pastures around. You know, because they just?—”

“They’re sheep. I know.” He yawned and let the business of the ranch just kind of pour over and through him, feeding his soul. This is what he was here for, after all.

Slow, but sure, everybody started wandering in—the camp cook.

The drovers. Nicole, their office manager who booked all the cabins throughout the year.

Their evil shithead forestry specialist who had been a park ranger for ten years before he’d gotten in between a mountain lion and a kid who thought that was a big kitty.

Now Rick was drawing on his disability and working for the ranch.

“Man, I thought this time they’d just keep you up there.”

“I keep telling you, Rick, it’s over, not up. You’re not real bright, man, are you?”

“Now if I was real bright, I’d go get a real job with somebody who paid money.”

“Well, aren’t you triple dipping or some shit?”

Rick hooted. “Something like that.”

Mr. Mann gave a soft woof and got up, nails clicking, and he would bet Brett was up and moving around. He’d go check if the man didn’t appear here soon.

“That’s some new dog you got,” Rick murmured.

“That’s Brett’s dog. He’s here to visit a bit. You should have heard how he reacted to the llama last night.”

“Lord. I bet. Those things look like aliens.”

They chatted while the burritos started to appear on the table with a clatter, the scent making his mouth water.

“Morning.” Brett said it from the doorway, and he lifted his head, turning to hear him better.

“Hey, you. Come on in and sit down. Rose is making burritos.”

“It smells amazing.”

“Miz Rose, this is Brett, this is Rose. And that’s Rick and Frank.”

“Morning. Nice to meet you. Where can I give Mr. Mann a little bowl of breakfast? He’s not food aggressive or anything, but I figure this morning he could use a little private treat.”

“We can put him in the mudroom,” Rose said. “Come with me, senor, and I will show you.”

“Thanks.” Brett touched his shoulder on the way by, and that made Rowdy glow a little. Lord, he had it bad, which was nuts, because how much did he know about Brett really?

But then again, he’d touched that coffee table and explored Brett’s workshop. That told him all he needed to know about the modern Brett, and he knew he liked what his hands saw.

And they still fucked like a dream, didn’t they?

The tappy tap of toenails told him that Mr. Mann was dancing in anticipation of his treat, which had Rick laughing.

“Not like the shepherds at all, huh?”

“Worried this is going to become a hound ranch?”

“That would be pretty loud, Boss.”

“That might be hilarious, though.”

“Salsa, senor. At noon. Sour cream just to the left of it.” Rose started plopping more things on the table.

“Gracias, lady.”

Brett came back and pulled out a chair, the scrape on the floor light and careful. The man was tiptoeing around, and that was gonna have to stop. But he’d let it flow easy instead of pushing it. This was a lot to take in.

“Oh, welcome to the Triple Diamond D.” He could hear the smile in Frank’s voice. “The boss here is glad to be home, I understand.”

Brett snorted. “He was chomping at the bit to be back here, no question. Him and Madison both. You’re the foreman, you said?”

“For right now, I’m fixing to retire. I’m just waiting for everybody to start doing interviews to replace my happy ass.”

Rowdy hated this. Frank had been the foreman here for as long as he could remember.

He knew there had been someone named Beau Blanchard before—he had the vaguest memory of a cowboy who looked a little like Santa Claus, and the photos were all over the ranch, but he’d always—always—worked with Frank.

Dammit.

“Is Madison not gonna do that?” Brett asked, distracting him from his thoughts, and he and Rick both immediately cracked up.

Then he heard his dad. “Son, let me tell you something. One, Madison? That girl is a boss. She is not a foreman. She’s the boss. One day, she will be the owner.”

Rowdy chuckled. “One day far, far away from now.”

“Yes.” Dad sat across the table from them. “Burritos look good, Miss Rose. Thank you.”

“De nada, Jefe.”

Dad sighed, then continued. “Second, Madison is an idea person. She thinks about things a lot. And she does stuff, don’t get me wrong, but she’s really not the actual get up every day and go out.

This is not a five in the morning getting up and wrangling cattle kind of girl.

I’ve seen her do it, but this is not her life goal. ”

Dad smacked his lips, and he could feel Brett beside him, trying not to shake with holding in the laughter.

“Now, if we need somebody to arrange marketing, or we need someone to go out and be the face of the company. Madison, she’s our girl.

And I have no doubt she is going to have ideas that change this place and make it more profitable and more interesting and better for the world. No question.”

Rowdy ate his burrito, Dad’s words pouring over him. God, he did love green chile, and Rose made his breakfast up just like he liked it.

“But unlike her father, who is a stubborn butthead, she is unlikely to be out there on a horse rounding up goats.”

“You still ride?” Brett sounded surprised.

He frowned over. “Sure I do. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I very rarely go out by myself for any length of time, but I’m more than capable of saddling up somebody and having a trail ride or just going out and having a wander.”

“Yeah, but we don’t let him ride fence. That’s hard. Did I hear y’all maligning me?” His Maddie came out, the smell of baby powder, hairspray, and strawberries just right.

“Hey, baby girl.”

“Morning, Daddy. Morning, Pappy. Morning, Frank. Rick. Morning, Brett. Morning, Miss Rose.”

Rose cheered. “You look so good, mija. I’ve missed you.”

There was a flutter of activity, Maddie getting hugs and kisses and adoration from everyone.

“Now I’ll have you know,” Madison said as she sat down next to Dad. “I am ready to work. I got my boots on and everything.”

“Yeah, but are they your work boots or them fancy Luccheses?”

“Nope. My pink Ariat ropers.” She giggled. “They are horse, goat, cattle, and llama shit resistant.”

“Oh, good deal.” That was Frank. “I need you to come look at that new Beefmaster bull I ordered in like you asked.”

“Excellent. I can’t wait!”

Rowdy blinked. “You ordered a bull?”

“Uh-huh. With my graduation money from Memaw and Papaw. I bought a bull with a solid line and a breeding pair of yaks.”

“Yaks?”

“Yep.” She sounded so proud of herself. “You want to come out, Brett?”