And that was the truth of it. He had always been on edge, walking on eggshells around Mona, perhaps from the very beginning, even without realizing it. But now, at the ranch, he’d begun to turn into a different person, one who wasn’t afraid all the time, realizing that life was bigger than a beige-painted split-level house in a suburb with green lawns, each lawn just like the one next to it.
And it was bigger than trips to the museum, although those were fun, and they could always visit one—they could always order books, and paint, and watch movies on his laptop. And after, they could hold hands, while she was still little enough to do that with, and walk down to the river and watch the barn swallows wheeling above the water, diving in for a drink before sailing up into the sky again.
And then there was Clay. Maybe out of his own fear, his own troubles, Austin had used his sudden custody of Bea to shove Clay away, to abandon even trying what they’d just begun, like some kind of coward. He’d faced Mona in her worst moods, her most demanding moods, and come away scarred forever, but that was no reason to have done what he’d done to Clay. Tossed him aside like he didn’t matter, which was the worst wrong, because hedidmatter. Mattered so much that Austin laid his hand over his heart, trying to soothe the pounding there. The ache in his gut, the twist in his belly.
But he couldn’t just fling himself at Clay’s feet, could he? Clay was hardly going to forgive him and besides, even if he did, he wanted Bea to know—couldn’t imagine telling her,hey, honeybee, your Dad’s got a boyfriend, is that okay?
Her approval was equally as important as his own desire to be with Clay. Sure, if she’d been an older teenager, it might not be as important, but she was only nine, and had been through enough upheaval with the divorce, traveling to Wyoming, leaving all her friends and familiar things behind, for him to continue on without her consent.
He needed to think about this and he needed to talk to Bea and he needed to keep himself busy until she was done at the forge. And then, maybe—no, more than maybe. He needed to apologize to Clay.
Whether Clay would forgive him was another matter, but in the meantime, he needed to keep busy, so he went back into Leland’s office, grabbed the keys, and headed down to the office. There, he unlocked the door and settled at his desk, opening his laptop and sharpening his pencil so he could make notes if he needed to.
Then he worked, going through receipts, finally opening the top banker box in a pile of banker boxes to straighten out the last five years of accounting, sloppy and sketchy, though the ranch had done well for itself since the day it had opened. Except for last year, of course; they were still recovering from last year.
Work took him till late afternoon, as he’d skipped lunch, not wanting to run into Clay until he’d talked to Bea. As for Bea, he went down to the forge to fetch her for dinner, and found that the Frontier Girls had all gone home. Bea was at the side of the river, soaked up to her knees, stuffing small piles of weeds and trash into a black plastic bag. Close by, Ellis and Jasper, wearing waders from the waist down, moved in the river, laughing and splashing each other and Bea in the process.
It looked all so simple, the two of them watching his little girl for him while they carried on with their regular life. And maybe itwasthat simple. Maybe he’d been making it more complicated to avoid committing himself to this new life, which was foolish, since it was obvious, at least it was now, that his new life had already been long underway, from the point when Clay had picked him up in the rain at that Motel 6.
Ellis saw him first and waved, a soundless greeting curving his mouth to a smile. Bea saw him next and, still carrying the bag, dragged it over to him. Her shirt was damp in large splotches, and there was a weed in her hair and a smudge of what looked like chocolate on her cheek, and she was as happy as he’d ever seen her.Ever.
“Dad, Dad, Dad,” she said, coming up to hug him, hard, and he almost cried, right in front of everybody.
“We tried to call you,” said Jasper, climbing onto the bank of the river, a dangerous-looking pitchfork in his hand. “Figured you were busy, so we just kept her.”
“Thank you,” said Austin, heartfelt. “I must have left my phone at the cabin.” He looked down at Bea, sweeping her hair back from her flushed face. “Did you have a good time, honeybee?”
“Yeah!” She jumped up and down, bumping against him, almost spilling open the black plastic bag of trash. “We had campfire bread, and then, for lunch, guess what we had, Dad. Guess!”
“Uh—” He scrunched his face and pretended to think very hard. “Roasted tennis balls?”
“No!” Her laugh raced through her body and she leaned against him, looking up, shaking her head as though he was the silliest dad on the planet. “We had tomato spaghetti, that’s what we had. And milk.”
“How did you get her to eat tomatoes?” Austin looked at Jasper in wonderment.
“I don’t know,” said Jasper with a shrug. “Ellis fixed ‘em with a bit of garlic, ‘cause he likes ‘em that way. He’s learning to like tomatoes, too.”
The smile the two men shared between them made Austin’s heart ache all over again.
“Thank you,” he said again. “I’ll take her to dinner now. You ready, Bea?”
He held out his hand, and as Jasper took the black plastic bag, Bea let go of that and held on to his hand. He squeezed her fingers gently, and the two of them ambled up the road to the main road that would lead to the lodge. All along, absently pulling the weed out of Bea’s hair, licking his thumb to remove the smudge of chocolate, he kept his eyes out for Clay.
At the steps of the lodge, he paused, looking around, but no Clay. Inside, the dining hall was bustling with the excitement of guests newly arrived, ready to dive into their vacation experience, which left Austin feeling a little bit like an old, experienced staff member, which was fine with him and what he was, really.
After he and Bea got their dinners, hearty helpings of meatloaf and gravy, he sat at the long table across from Brody, who was halfway done with his meal.
“Where’s Clay?” he asked, helping Bea with her utensils, her napkin.
“Don’t know.” Brody shrugged, his eyes looking elsewhere. “Think he took Ladybelle for a drive. Don’t know when he’ll be back.”
That told Austin everything that he already knew, that he’d hurt Clay, enough to make him drive off on a Sunday night, when the ranch was at its most frenetic. Clay prided himself on being there when Leland needed him, or when a guest needed him. That he’d driven off was Austin’s fault, pure and simple.
After dinner, as they left the dining hall, Austin kept looking, though he knew Clay would not be there. Beside him, dragging her feet, head down, Bea hung on his arm.
“You had a big day, huh?” he asked her. “What do you say we get you home, and you hop in the shower, and I’ll braid your hair wet so it’ll be all curly in the morning?”
“Like a horse’s mane,” she said, smiling, tugging on his hand even harder. “And if nail polish is like hoof oil, I have some.”
