“You have, huh?” Clay put the saddle on the rack and fiddled with the stirrups as he figured out what to say. “Well, maybe I am. So what.”
“So nothin’,” said Brody with a shrug. “Does he know?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe is not good enough.” Brody shook his head and looked over Clay’s shoulder to the main part of the barn, and took a deep breath. “You should always tell because maybe they don’t know and you’ll have missed your chance.”
“I know.”
“You want that?”
“No.”
“Well, then.”
Clay twisted himself up hard until he couldn’t be any more tightly wound. Hating the feeling he tried to work it off by carrying more luggage to the parking lot than anyone else, hurrying so everyone was off the ranch, there’d be no guests to worry about, and he could find the gumption to tell Austin what he needed to tell him. Which was what? He didn’t rightly know, but he had to get how he felt off his chest before he imploded.
Pulling out his phone, head down, he texted as fast as he could before he lost his nerve.
Where are you?
Within minutes, came the answer from Austin:At Jasper’s forge.
Can I come? Talk to you?
Yes!
He rushed down the path, thinking only too late that he should have changed his shirt and combed his hair, gotten himself ready. But then he would have sweated through his shirt anyway by the time he got there, and Austin already knew what he looked like covered with hay, so what did it matter?
He arrived at the forge inside of five minutes, and hung back as he realized Jasper was giving a demo for Bea and Austin, just a private event for two.
Jasper loved to show what he could do with an iron rod and that hammer of his. Clay had to admit that the sight of sparks flying, the smell of hot metal, the deep rasp of metal on metal, was invigorating in a way that always surprised him.
Standing close by, pulling on the old-fashioned leather and wood bellows, was Ellis. He wasn’t dressed in his foolish apprentice outfit, the one Clay liked to tease him about, but he was totally focused on what he was doing, on what Jasper was doing. Despite that, when he saw Clay, he lifted his chin in welcome.
“Hey.” Clay moved to stand beside Austin, who was holding Bea’s hand.
The heat from the forge wafted out at them, carried off by the vagaries of a cool breeze, and the scent of charcoal burning in the forge sifted over the scent of pine, drawing back, moving forward, drawing back again.
“And this is how we finish the metal,” said Jasper. He nodded at Clay as he moved a now-flat bit of metal into a large rubber bucket of water, where it hissed and steamed. “We’ll start again with the other side to make a butterfly that you can put in your garden.”
Clay’s heart was beating fast, but he was going to ask his question just as soon as he could draw Austin away from the forge. At the point when Jasper turned to get another rod of metal, Clay took a breath.
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you, but not here. Someplace. Out.”
“Out?” asked Austin, totally focused on Clay now. “Like on a date?”
His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t seem at all surprised, only expectant, and maybe a little hopeful, which gave Clay courage.
“Yeah.” Clay felt warm through his chest, across his skin, energy racing inside of him. “Maybe we could go to a place that has good beer, like you told me about.”
Saturday night was usually the night he went out and got laid, and here he was in the yard of Jasper’s forge, beneath the dappled, sweet-scented shade, asking for something completely different. He was in the midst of sunshine and fresh air, miles away from a dank, urine-puddled alley.
Thinking of this contrast, doubts crowded in. Maybe this wasn’t right for him. Maybe he didn’t deserve this. Maybe Austin only wanted friendship. Maybe he had no idea and should just go ahead like he knew what he was doing.
“When would you like to go?” asked Austin, ever practical.
“Well, I have tonight off,” said Clay. He shifted on his feet, put his hands in his pockets, then took them out again. “Saturdayismy only night off.”
