“She’s fine; she’s with Leland.” Austin shook his head, and looked at the young man he cared about very deeply and found he couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. But all of that was at risk. “The thing is, Mona is going to marry Roger. That’s the guy she’s in New Orleans with. And he doesn’t want Bea, so Mona is giving Bea to me. I’ll have full custody once she sends those papers. All I have to do is sign them and send them back.”
“That’s amazing.” Clay’s smile was bright, his eyes full of pleasure, and he moved close, as though for a celebratory kiss.
“The only thing is, I can’t stay here. I can’t raise Bea here.”
“What do you mean?”
Austin shook his head, thinking of everything Bea had had in Thornton, including one of the best elementary schools in the Denver area, and ballet lessons, and art classes, and libraries, and all the culture a little girl needed.
“It’s nice of Leland to lend me the cabin for a little while, but it’s not a full-time option. Bea needs something more stable than this. It’s fun in the summer, but this isn’t something that will work in the fall, when she needs to go to school. I need to move us back to Denver. There’s nothing for her here.”
“What do you mean there’s nothing for her here?” Clay lifted his arms expansively, as though to gather all of Farthingdale Ranch in his arms to show it to Austin.
“It’s the middle of nowhere, Clay,” said Austin, on the verge of thinking he was saying it all wrong, only it was too late, it was already out there. “It’s flyover country. I can’t raise her here. I need to get her set up for a new school in the fall. Please understand—”
“It was good enough for you yesterday,” said Clay, a huff in his voice, a hard flush to his cheeks. “You liked it plenty fineyesterday.”
“Idolike it fine.” Scrubbing at his mouth with his hand, Austin tried to explain it another way. “Those stars last night, withyou, were amazing.”
“But you’re saying this life is no good, that’s what you’re saying.” Clay blinked hard, frowning, the lines between his eyebrows fierce. “Or you’re saying it’s only good if it’s temporary, like a summer guest who stays a week and then goes. Guess I was a summer fling to you, then. Good enough for yesterday, right?”
“That’s not what I mean at all,” said Austin, desperation rising inside of him. “I’m just trying to do what’s right for Bea.”
“Move to the city, then,” said Clay, toneless. “Meanwhile, I livehere, and I have work to do.”
Clay turned and started walking to the barn, passing beneath the trees. He glanced at Austin over his shoulder, and Austin couldn’t believe how badly it had gone. He’d said all the wrong things, hurt Clay’s feelings when he’d not meant to. But what else was he supposed to do? The ranch was like summer camp. It was fun while it lasted, and then you went home. Right?
Slowly he made his way back to the dining hall, all appetite gone, shoulders tight, all the stresses of his old life coming down on top of him. Back at the table, he sat down and drank some coffee, now half cold, and watched Bea chatter happily to Leland, who mostly nodded as he ate his breakfast, as if a fast-talking little girl was part of his everyday world.
“Meant to tell you,” said Leland, as Austin poked at his breakfast. “Sue Mitchell’s bringing the Frontier Girls up today to Jasper’s forge. They’re going to build a fire without matches and then bake bread in an old coffee tin. Sue wants to know if Bea would like to join them.”
“Today?”
“Later this morning, I think.” Leland looked at Bea, tipping his head down. “You interested, young miss?”
“Yes, please,” said Bea, lighting up, sitting up straight.
After that, there was nothing for it but to finish breakfast, bus their trays, and head on down to the forge, holding hands, Bea skipping in the bright morning sunshine while dark clouds oozed through Austin’s heart.
27
Austin
After Austin walked Bea to the forge, he went slowly back up the hill in the dappled shade, going even more slowly than he ever had, as though fearful of what he might find at the top. There, he looked across the road to the dirt track that Leland had mentioned led to a replica of a cabin that had once stood there. To the right was the parking lot, empty of cars.
The office was locked up for Sunday morning. If he wanted, he could wait until Maddy showed up at noon to get the keys, and or he could get them right now from Leland and get straight to work, even if it was a Sunday. Which would be a shame, as the day was quite beautiful with a soft breeze coming off the river, the grasses green and lush from all the recent rain, the trees bursting with energy.
Wind stirred his hair. He should have brought his hat. Should have stayed with Bea and the Frontier Girls and joined in the fun, as he’d been invited. But most of all, he knew he should have done better by Clay. Who was no doubt still working hard, fixing barbed wire fences, herding animals to other locations while repairs were going on.
A new set of guests would be arriving today, so Clay would be extra busy, as he was every day. The time he’d taken out of his own work days for Austin’s sake, for Bea’s, was amazingly kind. The thought of Clay’s smiles, those sweet dimples, ruined into a frown by Austin’s carelessness, what had he been thinking? On the other hand, it was the truth. The ranch was no place to raise a little girl.
He headed up to the barn where Leland would surely be. Then he’d get the keys, go to his office, and get some work done. He was behind anyway, and the slog of catching up would keep his mind occupied, which was the best thing, really.
The barn was quiet except for Brody, who was doing something in the tack room across from Leland’s office, where the door was open, as it usually was. Leland was at his desk, typing on his computer, looking out of place with his rolled-up shirtsleeves and sweat along his jaw, mud on his boots. No doubt he’d been in the field helping with the fence repairs and was now writing about it or ordering more barbed wire without taking time to clean up.
“Hey, Leland,” said Austin as he came to the door.
“Morning,” said Leland, not taking his eyes off the computer. “BLM and the ranch split fencing costs, so I’m sending them a short email.” He finished his email, then leaned back in his squeaky wooden chair with a smile. “What brings you to me, sir?”
