“I have quarters,” said Austin. He took Clay’s face in his and kissed him soundly, then softly. “Thank you. That helped.”
“It’ll work out,” said Clay in the darkness, low so as not to disturb the nighttime sounds of wind rushing over the tall grasses. “It has to.”
The world didn’t work that way, so the idea of everything working out brought together the bitter and the sweet, the memory of Clay’s touch mingling with Austin’s lack of response. Still, he’d rather they stood beneath the stars and shared the intimacy, rather than do without being with Clay like this.
They straightened their clothes and got back into Ladybelle and drove to the ranch and down the road to Jasper’s cabin. Where, like a small herd of deer, Jasper, Ellis, and Bea were standing in front of the forge as the truck’s headlights passed over them.
Bea raced to the truck before it was even parked, and Clay jerked the truck to a stop as Bea hung on the open window.
“Dad, Dad, Dad,” she cried, her voice full of blissful joy. “I got to ride a pony. I got to ride it over andoverand make it trot up and down the road.”
“Ellis was there every minute,” said Jasper, coming up. “Holding onto the halter.”
“Good,” said Ellis on the other side of Jasper, and though whether he meant they’d all had a good time or that Bea had been a good girl, Austin didn’t know. The word seemed to encompass the whole evening in a host of ways he couldn’t even begin to sort out. But what did that matter, when a blanket of joy curled around all of them.
“Climb on in, Bea,” said Clay.
Austin opened the door, and Bea clambered in to sit between them, like she’d been doing it that way all of her life.
“Thank you both,” said Austin, waving out the open window as Clay turned the truck around and drove up the dirt road.
“That was fun,” said Clay, smiling in the semi-gloom of the truck’s cab, lit only by the dials on the dashboard.
“It was.”
“We’ll figure out a way to do it again, huh?”
“Is that you asking me for a second date?” asked Austin, teasing, smiling, his arm around Bea’s shoulders, her head heavy in the curve of his arm.
“Yes,” said Clay, his voice warm and soft. “If you’ll have me.”
“I’ll have you,” said Austin, almost automatically. Then he laughed and realized what he said. “I mean, as soon as I am able, you realize.”
“We’ll get there, my friend,” said Clay. “We’ll get there.”
When Clay pulled the truck up in front of the glade of trees and the little dirt path that led to the managers’ cabins, Austin kissed him, quickly, lightly, over Bea’s head, then slid out, taking Bea with him, happy all the way through. With a small honk, Clay drove Ladybelle away, leaving the two of them in the dark shadows beneath the pine and aspen trees.
“I had a good time, Dad,” said Bea. “You should go with Clay for beer all the time, and I’ll stay with Jasper and Ellis.”
“I’d like to,” he said, and he meant it. “Now, let’s get you to bed so we’re fresh for the morning.”
Once in the cabin, he turned on the ruby glass-topped table lamps, and monitored while Bea washed her face and brushed her teeth, chattering all the while about the forge and the pony and the ice cream float they’d had after dinner.
Once she was in her pajamas, he undid her braid and gently combed out all the tangles and waves. By the time she climbed into bed, he was able to turn off her bedroom light without any requests for water, or any announcement that Bea was going to read from her e-reader.
It had been a wonderful day, all the way around, and Austin found himself humming as he got himself ready for bed. In bed, dressed in his boxer-briefs, he tried an experimental sweep with his hand between his legs.
There was no response, none, though he felt a twinge in his belly, like it anticipated that there might be something, and sooner rather than later.
He rolled over, stretched out his legs beneath the single sheet, curled the pillow in his arms, and sighed. Applying for that accounting job at a faraway ranch and meeting Clay was the best thing, next to Bea, to ever happen to him in his life.
26
Austin
Morning came quickly, with his phone ringing, which was odd for a Sunday. As he reached for his phone on his nightstand, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, toes curling on the cool wooden floor.
The ID of the caller was Mona, but as it was only an hour later in New Orleans, he couldn’t understand why she was up so early. Mona liked to sleep in. While on vacation? Mona liked to sleep in till noon, at least, especially if she’d been drinking the night before.
