Page 20 of Saddles and Snowstorms
Before I could answer, Colt’s voice boomed across the table. “Hey, Walsh! You gotta hear this story about the time I rode Hurricane for eight seconds in San Antonio!”
Rowan glanced at Colt, then back at me, as if torn. I shrugged and took another pull from my beer. “Go on. Sounds like a real thriller,” I said, my voice drier than the summer pasture.
“I’ve heard plenty of rodeo stories,” Rowan said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “I’m more interested in yours.”
Something warm unfurled in my chest at his words. I wasn’t used to being anyone’s first choice for conversation, especially not with Colt Dawson holding court across the table.
“Not much to tell,” I said, but I found myself unbuttoning my shirt collar and pulling it aside just enough to reveal the jagged scar that ran from my collarbone toward my shoulder. “Sixteen years old and thought I knew everything. Bull proved me wrong.”
Rowan leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin as he examined the scar. His fingertips brushed lightly over the raised tissue, and I had to suppress a shiver.
“That must have hurt like hell,” he murmured, his professional demeanor not quite hiding the interest in his eyes.
“Hurt worse when my old man got done yellin’ at me for being stupid,” I admitted, surprised at how easily the words came. I hadn’t talked this much to anyone in months, maybe years.
Across the table, Colt was getting louder, clearly noticing he’d lost Rowan’s attention. I could feel his eyes on us, watching as Rowan’s fingers lingered a second too long on my skin. Something possessive flared in me as I let my shirt fall back into place, but I didn’t move away.
“Your dad sounds like mine,” Rowan said with a soft laugh. “Always expecting the worst, always right when it happened.”
“Jack wasn’t my dad,” I clarified, taking another swig of beer. “He was the foreman on my parents’ ranch before they passed. Took me in after. Taught me everything I know. I just call him my old man because he was the only one I knew.”
Rowan’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
I shrugged. “Was a long time ago.”
The conversation around us had grown rowdier, with Beau and Colt trading stories about their wildest rides. I caught Colt glancing our way again, his expression unreadable as he noted how Rowan leaned toward me, our shoulders nearly touching.
“So, Brooks,” Rowan said, rolling my name around in his mouth like he was tasting it. “What made you decide to stay in Sagebrush? Most people seem to leave as soon as they can.”
The question caught me off guard. No one had ever asked me that before. Most folks in town just accepted that I was part of the landscape, like the old oak tree by Miller’s Creek or the rusted windmill at the edge of town.
“Never saw a reason to leave,” I said finally, turning the beer bottle in my hands. “The land’s been in my family for generations. Seemed wrong to abandon it.”
“But you run it all alone,” he pressed, those green eyes studying me with genuine curiosity. “That’s a lot for one person. And isn’t it lonely?”
I shrugged. “I like the quiet. And I got a system that works.”
“I can respect that,” he nodded, taking another sip of his beer. His throat worked as he swallowed, and I found myself staring at the movement. “After what happened in Austin, quiet sounds pretty damn good to me too.”
Before I could ask what he meant, Colt’s chair scraped back loudly. He sauntered over, looking like he wanted to stir up trouble. He stopped next to Rowan’s chair, holding out a hand. “You wanna dance, handsome?”
“Colt! Leave him alone,” I heard Lucas call from the other end of the table. “You got enough of an audience over here. And a boyfriend of your own.”
Boyfriend?! I glanced up at Colt as he winked at a well-dressed man with brown hair and amber eyes at the other end of the table. If I wasn’t mistaken, that was Eli Daniels. He was a few years younger than me, butI recognized him, nonetheless. He and Colt were together? When did that macho rodeo star turn gay? Eli I’d heard about. But Colt?
“No thanks, Colt,” Rowan said, cool as a cucumber. Instead, he looked to me. “If I’m gonna dance with anyone, I’d rather it was Brooks here.”
My heart stopped as our eyes met, and not in a good way. Colt, however, didn’t give me a chance to process the implication without butting in.
“I didn’t know you were one of us, Brooks,” he said, slapping me hard on the back. “Good for you! You definitely chose the right party to drop in on!”
It was at that moment that I realized, somewhat sheepishly, that everyone in the group was a man. Not only that, but several of them weren’t just sitting next to one another. They were holding hands, whispering in each other’s ears, or exchanging small intimate gestures that I hadn’t noticed. In fact, I’d been so foolishly wrapped up in listening to Rowan and mesmerized by how beautiful he was that I’d barely seen anything else.
“What do you say, Brooks?” Rowan smiled as he held out his hand. “Wanna dance?”
I cleared my throat, putting my beer down hastily. “I… I’m not…”
“Aww, don’t be shy!” Colt added, egging me on. “Rowan’s too handsome to turn down!”
