Bea was looking over his shoulder with serious eyes. When he turned his head, Austin saw that Clay had stepped out of the truck, perhaps with the intent of helping Bea with her luggage like the gentleman he was.
Clay had put on his straw cowboy hat and so, along with his stance, a little diffident, and his cowboy boots, the large buckle, he looked exactly like what he was. A cowboy. A ranch hand. Austin’s friend, and maybe something more than that. All worthwhile, good things to be, and he was lucky to have Clay in his life.
“Yes,” he said. “A cowboy drove me. His name is Clay, and he’s going to take us to the ranch. Are you ready?”
“Does he have a horse?” asked Bea, looking up at him with shining eyes.
“He has—” Austin paused, bending close, and beckoned to her, like he had a secret to share, and then mock-whispered, “He has a wholeherdof them.”
Her smile was as bright as a sunrise, and joy filled her, seemed to stream from her hair and her fingertips and everywhere.
“Can I ride one?”
“Yes,” he said. “We’ll pick out the perfect one for you to ride. Sound good?”
“Yes.”
He held out his hand to her, and she took it, and together they turned to look at Clay, still patiently waiting.
“Excuse me, sir,” said Austin in a teasing voice. “Might you be headed anywhere near Farthingdale Ranch?”
“Why, yessir,” said Clay in his best cowboy voice, tipping the edge of his cowboy hat with his fingers. “I’m going there today, if you’ve a mind to come with me.”
Bea giggled behind her hand, and when Clay came close to grab her suitcase, she smiled up at him, and jumped a little.
“Hi,” she said, looking up at him.
“Hi, yourself,” he said in return. “And welcome to your accommodations for the next few hours.”
As though she was a lady, he half bowed and gestured at the truck. Bea laughed and hopped up and down, still holding Austin’s hand. Even if their time together would be short, at least he had this. At least he could show Bea the ranch, and he would not think about having to bring her back inside of a week, no he would not.
22
Clay
The rain started up the second they hit the highway, grey clouds scudding overhead, the roads slick with foam. Clay drove carefully, for they had precious cargo in the truck.
Bea was buckled in behind Austin, in the passenger seat. When Clay looked in the rearview mirror, he found she was looking at him, studying him, her eyes round and expectant, like she thought he was taking her to Christmas morning.
It was an odd feeling to have someone look at him like that. Of course, many a stranger in the alley behind the Rusty Nail had kind of looked like that when they saw him, but this was different. Way different. Bea was depending on him to get her safely to her destination, where he hoped she would have such a good time she would never want to leave.
As for Austin, he was buckled in securely, staring straight out through the windshield like he meant to keep track of the balanced rhythm the windshield wipers made as they zoomed back and forth, pushing puddles of rain away.
“It’s a steady rain,” said Clay. “But I think I’ll stick to I-25 anyhow, as it’ll get us home faster.”
“Good idea,” said Austin. “But we should stop for a treat, right? Bea?”
When he turned his head so she could hear him clearly, Clay was able to get a good hard look at how drawn Austin’s expression was. Of course he was overjoyed to have time to spend with his daughter, but it must be weighing on him that he’d have to give her back in the end.
Mona was a piece of work doing this to him, this push-me-pull-you kiss-kick bullshit. Maybe it was better the door to the house had been closed. Maybe it would be better if he never met her.
“Dairy Queen,” she said. “Cherry dipped cone!”
“Oh, honey, I don’t know if they have those anymore,” said Austin.
“They do,” said Clay. “Harlin has a Dairy Queen that still has those on the menu. We can swing off the highway easy. Won’t add but ten minutes to our drive and by then, maybe the rain will calm down.”
Austin nodded to this, still buried in his own thoughts it seemed.
