“I could cover it with mine,” said Austin. As Clay shook his head, phone already out, finger ready to press the number to alert Leland what they needed, he hurried to add, “I work at the ranch now. I have the room on my credit card. The ranch will reimburse me. Let Leland know, by all means, but we don’t need his card.”
“Okay, I guess,” said Clay, though the glum tone in his voice might be more about an anticipated lecture from Leland in his future.
As Clay called Leland and updated him as to their situation, Austin signed for the bill, handed the keys to Ladybelle to Clay, and within half an hour they were on the road again, the tires splashing through flat muddy puddles as they pulled out of the gravel parking lot and onto Highway 85 just where two lanes turned into one.
“We’re only two hours from home,” said Clay.
Austin nodded, happy to be moving with a delicious breakfast burrito from Grey’s Cafe in his belly. When they reached Greeley, he pointed at the roadside coffee stand and silently, as if in full agreement, they stopped for coffee and were back on the road inside of a heartbeat.
It was only when they finally were trundling through the quiet town of Farthing that Austin’s heart speed up. Farthing didn’t look like much, just a sleepy podunk town like all the other flyover places he’d never been. By the horizon that spread out before them when they exited Farthing, he knew he was well and truly in the middle of nowhere.
Though there were still clouds drifting in the sky above, they were thin and puffy, showing blue sky behind, like a promise of something newly washed, wholesome, and somehow more delightful than any sky he’d seen before. Which was just his overworked brain trying to focus on something other than how his morning had begun. Which had been with him on his side, facing Clay, who had curled himself in the shape of Austin’s body, as though, with just a little effort, he might push himself neatly into Austin’s arms.
The sun had, just for a second, poked a brilliant ray of gold and blue between the parting in the curtains, shone on Clay’s face, the curve of his cheek, the lay of his lashes like tiny lines of thought. Then the room had gone back into a state of semi-gloom, Clay snuffling awake, doing what men did when they woke up, which was to tame their morning erections with a sleepy gesture, like they were petting their cocks back into restfulness, like someone might soothe their dog, absently.
Austin didn’t have that issue and, in fact, had not been overly troubled by erections it for the last six months or so. It might have taken years of Mona’s criticism, or it might have been the end of a tail of comments along the lines ofDon’t do that, it’s so messy. Andno, not in the morning, it’s gross.
The end result had been that histhing, as Mona had often called it, refused to waken as other men’s things did, at least not around Mona, and not a heck of a lot other times.
He’d gone to a doctor who, after some testing, told him it was psychological and offered him Viagra, which he refused. He visited a therapist a few times, without Mona’s knowledge, and was told the same thing and offered Ativan, which he also refused. From his research on the internet, he’d gleaned that his erection as well as his interest in sex would come back if he let it, which was no more than his doctor or therapist had told him and completely frustrating to boot.
Not that that was anything he needed to share with Clay who, as he petted and stilled and shifted and finally sat up, obviously had no problems whatsoever. He was a healthy young man with all the energy of youth, all the drive, and a perfectly normal morning erection. All of this was sweetened by his smile, which Austin found himself the focus of, found himself absorbing almost without realizing it.
Clay stopped Ladybelle at the gate to Farthingdale Ranch, a rustic sign with the name glinting with bits of iron twisted into rustic shapes.
“That’s new this season,” said Clay. “Jasper, our blacksmith, made it. He’s a whiz at stuff like that.” Then, after a second’s pause, Clay added, “Could you get the gate? I mean, I could get it, but usually the passenger gets it.”
“Oh,” said Austin, though he knew he really shouldn’t be surprised that this was how it worked. He was in the world of gates and cows and horses and hay and each day, each moment, really, would be full of unfamiliar sights and smells and things that needed doing. Which was exactly what he needed at this moment in his life, for as his life, or what he’d figured had been his life but had really been Mona’s, had been taken away, the ranch would give him a new one.
9
Austin
Clay drove Ladybelle into the ranch, over a stone bridge, through a small glade, and across the round circle of the parking lot where the trees seemed to step back to reveal a wide sky-blue vista over glades of green trees. The air was sweet and fresh, and he took a deep breath of it.
The truck trundled along a dirt and gravel road that seemed to lead to the very heart of the ranch. There, as Clay parked in front of a large red barn whose double doors were swung wide open, stood Leland Tate, whom Austin instantly recognized from the Zoom interview.
Leland, the ranch’s manager and his new boss, was even more vibrant and commanding a presence in real life as he shook Austin’s hand. He even looked the part of a cowboy, with legs a mile long. And he was dressed much like Clay, except his snap button shirt looked as though someone had taken an iron to it before putting it on.
“I’ve got a quick meeting with the folks from BLM, so I hope it’ll be all right if Clay shows you around. Then you and I can meet here in my office after lunch. Sound good?”
“Sounds great,” said Austin because of course it sounded better than good. He would not be thrust into ranch life all on his own, and he would have Clay as his companion. Clay smiled, lifting himself up on his toes as if he’d been anticipating this moment for a good long while.
“That okay with you, Clay?” asked Leland.
“You bet,” said Clay. “Otherwise, it’s all chores, chores, chores. Right, Leland?”
“That’s just about right,” said Leland.
When Austin saw the smile they exchanged with each other, it wasn’t as boss and employee, it was as friend to friend, only one of them happened to be in charge of the other. The fondness in Leland’s expression, his warm gaze at Clay, spelled out such a difference. Showed how it could be not just between two men, but between two people who worked together and shared the ups and downs of each other’s world. Which was how marriage was supposed to be. How his marriage should have been but never was.
“Great,” said Austin, though as he knew he sounded a little less than enthusiastic, he dug deep to pull out how he really felt, though it was a little like trying on a new hat. “I’m just overwhelmed by how pretty it is up here. I honestly didn’t know Wyoming could be so pretty.”
“It is pretty,” said Leland, though his expression wasn’t one of simple agreement, but almost that he appreciated Austin’s recognition of it.
Austin looked out over the green trees that ringed the gravel parking lot in a way that framed the view of a small grassy dip, beyond which a smooth river flowed. Beyond that was the bluebell-blue sky, and beyond that were the humps and round shapes that made up the foothills.
It was as though someone had painted a very large canvas and plopped it down for all to admire. The only thing keeping the view from being static and formal like a painting was the way the clouds raced across the sky dragging fleecy tails behind them, leaving swaths of shadow that moved across the landscape as the wind blew, rippling the tops of the green prairie grasses.
