A little stunned that Clay even felt the need to ask, Austin moved close, not quite close enough to hold hands, but close enough so that Clay would know the words were meant only for him.
“Of course,” he said low. “Had we not met this way, I would have texted you. Held you a spot.”
He wanted to addnext to me, so to make sure Clay understood, but maybe that wasn’t necessary, for Clay smiled and those stars in his eyes brightened.
“Thank you for the boots,” Austin said.
“Happy to do it,” said Clay.
Together they got in line for chocolate chip pancakes and whatever other delicacies were in store for them. They were able to get a spot at the long table beneath the window and Austin made sure Bea was facing out, or tried to, as Bea preferred facing in so she could watch all the people, her eyes wide at all the activity and chatter and movement.
Other people sat near them so Austin, his heart filled with gratitude for what Clay had done, could not say all the things he wanted to but kept his conversation neutral.
It felt like he was almost having to put a lid on his feelings, the way he’d always done with Mona, to keep the peace, to go along to get along. But in this instance, he knew, underneath it all, that he just needed an opportunity to speak to Clay. To be with him in a quick private moment, so he could share all that was whirling around inside of him.
At the end of breakfast, Ellis came in, carrying another box, this one a bit bigger than the one Clay had brought. He came up to the table and, standing on the far side of Austin, laid the box in the middle of the table.
“Is this what I think it is?” asked Clay, pointing at the box as he scrubbed his hands on his napkin.
“Delivery,” said Ellis, nodding, then he moved away quickly and went back out of the dining hall.
“Why does he do that?” asked Austin quickly, unable to restrain himself.
“Do what?” Clay picked up the box and held it in his hands and grinned at Bea, who grinned back.
“Always moving away, keeping his distance.” Austin waved a circle in the air to indicate the distance he meant.
“Well, he’s our ex-con, right?” Clay shrugged. “He thinks he’s scary, so he does his best not to scare anyone.”
“Oh.” Ellis didn’t seem all that scary, not to him, anyhow, but he appreciated Ellis’ thoughtfulness. “So what’s in the box?”
“Well,” said Clay. He shook the box and held it up to his ear as though to hear what was inside. Bea giggled and held her hands over her mouth, that is, until Clay handed her the box. “It’s a special delivery for the ranch’s very most special guest.”
Slowly, as though the contents might jump out and bite her, Bea slid the lid open. Inside, nestled in gold and pink-toned tissue paper, was a perfect little straw cowboy hat with a brown leather hat band and a very small fake blue flower in the front.
With a heartfelt sigh, Bea lifted the hat out, letting the box fall to her lap, the lid to the table, and put the hat on. Then she tried to jump up, but got tangled in the legs of the chair and it was only Clay’s quick action that saved her from tumbling to the floor.
“It’s my hat!” she shouted, causing heads to turn their way, smiles following from those who could see a little girl overjoyed as she plonked it on her head. “I’m a cowgirl, Dad, arealcowgirl!”
“I arranged it with Leland for her to join the beginner session at ten o’clock this morning,” said Clay. “Is that okay? I figured she wouldn’t want to wait any longer, and that you wouldn’t mind.”
“You’ve done so much,” said Austin, knowing he’d not had any idea how to go about arranging the riding lesson, let alone acquiring boots and a hat for Bea. “I don’t know how to repay—”
“Uh-uh.” Clay shook his finger at Austin in a scolding manner. “What I did is what friends do. And you’re my friend, right?”
“Right.”
Austin wanted to say more, on account of all the words and feelings piling up inside of him, like they wanted to burst through some kind of invisible dam. But there were people around, and Leland came up to say good morning, and to admire Bea’s hat and her boots as she pirouetted around, pleasure blazing from her as she danced and then curtsied. Everyone clapped.
Had Bea been any other little girl, he might have been worried about her ego at all the attention, but she giggled as she sat down to finish her breakfast, shining so brightly, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her so happy. She deserved to be spoiled and admired and loved and to be like this always.
Then his throat grew thick and his eyes were hot and he had to turn away and pretend he had something in them so he could scrub at them and collect himself, and tuck away the feelings that rose up. Of Bea, a happy little girl and how he was going to have to give her up in a week if not sooner, and how she hated it at Mrs. Delgado’s—
He stood up and cleared his throat.
“Are we ready, Bea?” he asked her as he grabbed the box with her sneakers. “Let’s go for a little walk and maybe I’ll braid your hair before we go to the arena for the lesson.”
“I’ll see you there,” said Clay.
