Leland let the silence fall around them, which Clay knew full and well this was to give the other fellow a chance to confess. He scuffed the toe of his boot into the dirt, stuffing his hands into his pockets like a kid who got caught taking more than his fair share of candy.
“I know you’re not,” said Clay, low. “I just don’t know what to tell you.”
“How about the truth,” said Leland, equally low. “That’s always worked well between us before this.”
There had been a time when Clay had confronted his boss about his attraction to a certain drifter. He’d spoken man-to-man with Leland and then told Leland to pull that stick out of his ass so the happiness he’d found in Jamie’s company could be a permanent thing. Which made it too late for Clay to dance away from this particular conversation, as Leland would only follow and eventually, being Leland, find out the truth.
“It’s Austin, like you probably already guessed.” Clay nodded when Leland nodded, glad to have that much out of the way. “It was fine. We were going slow and all and I know that there’s that non-fraternization rule you got going—”
“Hardly my place to hold you to that rule when I broke it myself.” Leland’s smile was small, but the warmth in his eyes told Clay a lot.
“Anyway.” Clay shrugged, his hands still in his pockets. “It was going good. We were holding hands, looking at shooting stars, and he even—” Clay’s voice broke. He had to stop and swallow before he could go on. “He even painted a picture of me. Said he could only do landscapes and there it was beneath my door—”
“I didn’t know he could paint,” said Leland. “But what happened between the two of you?”
“Bea.” Clay snapped his mouth shut over the word. He liked Bea, liked her just fine, and it wasn’t her fault her dad was using her as an excuse to move away from what he’d shared with Clay.
“That’s rough,” said Leland. “He’s probably feeling the weight of being a single parent just now. And after that divorce—”
“I knowallabout that.” Clay tried to move away, go to his room, where he could work out his sadness alone. But Leland stopped him, putting a warm hand on Clay’s shoulder, leaning close to look Clay right in the eye.
“Like you told me once, Clay,” said Leland. “Tell him how you feel. Don’t let this chance at happiness pass you by being stubborn.”
“I also told you to pull that stick out of your ass,” said Clay, trying for the joke, failing when it fell flat in the night air because Leland wasn’t laughing.
“That I did,” said Leland. “And in this case, I’ll tell you this advice. Shake off your pride. Find out the truth. Then move forward. Don’t live your life with regret. Okay?”
“Okay,” said Clay.
He didn’t have a single useful idea how he was supposed to do any of that, but when Leland started along the path through the small glade toward his manager’s cabin, Clay followed him. Leland had been his mentor and guide from the moment he’d stepped foot on the ranch.
He knew Leland was right, he truly did. But as he looked beyond Leland’s cabin, nestled against the hillside next to the staff quarters, he saw that the third cabin along, Austin and Bea’s cabin, had its lights off. They were already in bed.
Austin wasn’t waiting for Clay, hadn’t stayed up to greet him. Didn’t care that Clay had gone out with the intention of getting rip-roaring drunk.
“He has a nine-year-old daughter, Clay,” said Leland, pausing. “Nine-year-olds need to go to bed earlier than you or I. Keep that in mind as you think this over.”
That was a new thought, all fresh and springtime different. He’d worked with a lot of kids, from the bratty to the sweet. He knew how to talk to them without talking down to them. Knew how to coax the bravery out of the shy ones, how to keep rascals and their shenanigans down to a dull roar.
But he’d never put a kid to bed or taken them to the dentist or worried about their grades. He’d never been a dad, and here he was, grousing because Austin, who had been a dad, had put his daughter to bed at a reasonable hour.
Clomping up the steps of the staff quarters, Clay walked quietly down the hall to his room. He showered quickly, hot water, then cold, and put himself to bed, lying on top of the bottom sheet, with the top sheet folded away so he could feel the cool breeze across his skin.
His hair was still wet, and would get pushed into stiff positions that come morning, he’d have to comb out with water. Or maybe he’d leave them to use as an icebreaker with Austin, as in,Hey, have you seen my hair? Wild, no?And then Clay would laugh and Austin would laugh, and it’d be okay between them once more.
Deep in his heart, he knew it would take more than a simple joke between friends to fix everything.
When morning came, he used a washcloth to scrub the sleep out of his eyes, then shaved, and looked at himself in the mirror. He was still the same Clay, with his hair sticking up in the back, but now his eyes looked dim.
Happiness was only a truth telling away, and if Austin said no to giving Clay, and perhaps the ranch, a second try? Then Clay would just have to move on, though he didn’t imagine he’d go back to the bars. The thought of it, him taking his pants down for a stranger who wasn’t Austin, had a hollow ring to it now.
Dressed and ready to go, Clay pulled on his cowboy boots and marched down the stairs, walking along the path to the main lodge for breakfast. The whole way he looked left and right. and though he’d not a single idea what he was going to say, he was going to find Austin and at least try to start things on the road to something better.
It was much to his surprise when he turned the corner around the main lodge and saw Austin coming toward him at a fast clip. Bea wasn’t with him, and maybe she was already inside and Austin was on his way back to his cabin to grab something for her they’d forgotten.
But no. Austin saw him and picked up his pace, and met Clay at the edge of the glade, his hand reaching out, though he didn’t touch Clay, as he might have done in the past.
“Hey,” said Austin. “I’m glad I found you. I wanted to talk to you.”
