“I’d be happy to do it,” said Clay, completely nonchalant, it seemed, despite the presence of a nine-year-old in their midst. “Got a comb? Here’s a chair. I’ll do your braid while your dad puts on his boots and thinks about what he’s going to get done today.”
Gratefully, Austin sat in one of the wooden chairs at the small dining table. Bea sat in the other while Clay combed out her long, strawberry blonde hair, as gently as he might do with a skittish mare. But Bea was the furthest thing from skittish and she seemed to be half falling asleep as Clay separated her hair into strands and began to braid it.
“Maybe I’ll get a horse lesson today,” she said to nobody in particular.
“Maybe you will,” said Clay. He looped the elastic band around the end of her braid, then flipped it over her shoulder. “You’re ready. Let’s go to breakfast. Austin, get your boots on.”
Clay shoved his feet into his boots, as though to show Austin how it was done. Then he opened the door and took Bea’s hand in one of his, and Austin’s hand in the other.
“All right, let’s go,” he told them, tugging them to the outside. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Then, hand in hand, they walked along the dirt path through the shady green glade of trees. Together like a little family, and Austin’s heart filled at the thought of it. How they might always be this way, sharing the simple moments.
31
Epilogue
Near the end of the season, on a Saturday night in September, when the length of arid days was offset by the cool nights, the scent of autumn teasing the air, Clay took a shower. But it wasn’t justanyshower, it was his first shower in manager cabin #3 with Bea on a sleepover. Thus, he took a great deal of care hanging up the towel he’d used, and the washcloth, so mold wouldn’t grow. So Austin would never regret inviting Clay to stay.
For Austin, just last week, had invited Clay to move into a cabin with him and Bea, and Clay had accepted on the spot. It had taken him only a day to shift his stuff from his little room on the third floor of the staff quarters to the little cabin beneath the trees, and the whole while he’d been just about coming out of his skin with excitement.
He and Austin had gone on a string of dates over the summer, each more satisfying than the one before it. Each date had been filled with long drives to vista views, and quick drives to the Diary Queen in Chugwater, along with quiet walks along the river at sunset, and evenings filled with loud laughter in the dining hall on puzzle night.
Sometimes they brought Bea with them on those dates, and sometimes Bea wanted to go to the forge so she could be babysat by Jasper and Ellis. There, she insisted on doing her share of whatever work they offered her, as though unaware she was a small nine-year-old girl who didn’t have to keep up with them when they trimmed the river or hauled bags of coal in Jasper’s truck.
For some reason that neither Austin nor Clay could understand, the forge fascinated her, as did the horses in the barn. And once she’d discovered the tack room, it was all they could do to keep her out of there, or convince her that saddles laid on two by fours for storage weren’t actually meant to be sat on.
Other times Bea had day-long outings with the Frontier Girls, of which she was now a proud member. Almost every day since she joined them, she’d been bugging Austin for someone to make her a frilly flower-sprigged dress with a bonnet to match so she could be like the rest of the little girls. Though Clay had only moved in a week ago, she’d already figured out that if Austin said no to the dress and bonnet, she could try asking Clay to say yes.
He had no willpower with her, no willpower atall, which meant that Austin had to get on the phone with Maddy to track down someone who could help. Maddy, in turn, had pointed them in the direction of Ginny, Leland’s mom, who was currently sifting through her old patterns to find something suitable.
Tonight, Bea was having a special sleepover with two specific girls from the Frontier Girls group, Lisa and Ruth Anne. The three little girls would be at Ruth Anne’s house, though from what Clay had gleaned, Ruth Anne lived with her doting grandparents, as her parents had sadly passed away. Not to mention, Austin had it on good authority that Bea would not be returning till late on Sunday.
He and Austin had time. They had tons of time, and now it was time for Clay to gird his loins and speak up about what he wanted.
He missed getting fucked up the ass like crazy, and now that the two of them, him and Austin had dated for a few months, and now that he’d moved in, and now that they’d spent the last week getting used to sleeping in the same bed every night—it was time.
Austin was very easy to live with, and between the two of them they’d smoothed out the rough spots brought on by compromising where the kitchen scissors should be kept in the kitchenette—which really had been the biggest point of contention thus far—Clay knew he didn’t want to put it off.
Especially not since Austin, strong and tall, took every private opportunity to corner Clay. He’d press him to the wall, his long arms blocking Clay’s escape, and kiss him till Clay’s legs threatened to go out from under him. Other times, after Bea had taken her shower, and after she’d begged Clay to braid her hair in a fishtail braid so she could dream of being a horse (a request Clay was always powerless to resist), they would tuck her in, turn on her nightlight, and have the evening to themselves. Usually they made out like teenagers, and sometimes it turned into something more.
The couch in the cabin wasn’t the biggest couch in the universe, but when Austin sat at one end, and patted the space beside him, it was more than Clay could resist. He’d run and leap and plonk himself down with half of him in Austin’s lap. Sprawled across Austin’s broad chest, he’d lay his head in the curve of Austin’s shoulder. Austin’s whole body would welcome Clay, curving in echo so all of Clay fit against Austin’s body as though Austin had been carved to accept him.
Frankly, Clay wondered why he’d ever thought stand-up sex in an alley behind a second rate bar had been the way to spend his energy. As near as he could figure, though, he must have gotten his ideas about how to find love from those porno films he used to watch. Totally unrealistic, those films made like an easy lay was the first step on the path to following in love. But oh, how wrong he’d been.
It was better this way. Better with the three of them in the cabin together, in the mornings in the kitchenette, where Bea had determined they might have a little mini breakfast together of cinnamon raisin bread and Irish Breakfast tea, an odd combination she declared Jasper and Ellis had shown her.
There was a four burner stove, and a fridge and all, but with the dining hall so handy, Austin confessed to Clay that he’d not really thought about making meals at home. Clay was all for it, so mid-week of their first week, they’d purchased a small selection of groceries.
“Let's make our own pancakes,” Clay told Bea on Friday morning. “And put as many chocolate chips in them as we want.”
Which probably hadn’t been the best idea, as a nine-year-old’s idea, let alone a young ranch hand’s idea, of a good chocolate chip to pancake batter ratio probably wasn’t quite balanced. The first batch they made had turned into chocolate goo. Austin had just laughed and they made another batch, which they all enjoyed very much.
During that first week, they’d mostly eaten dinner in the dining hall, though on Friday evening, magically, Austin had raced to to bring back a large artisanal-type pizza pie from the Rail Car. This turned out to be too spicy for Bea, but plenty fine for Clay and Austin, and after they made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, they all sat on the front porch and ate dinner together as the cool of the evening came down.
If Bea had Clay wrapped around her little finger, Austin had Clay wrapped around his heart. The joy of waking up each morning in Austin’s arms after making out—and having sex—beneath the sheets the night before, went beyond whatever he could have imagined, had he dared to imagine something so peaceful and domestic and sweet.
The only thing Austin seemed to want from Clay, beyond a whole lot of dick sucking, which Clay wasalwayshappy to oblige, was for Clay to take better care of himself. That included putting towels on the rack when he was done, and teeth brushing and flossing every day, along with vegetables at most meals, and less fountain sodas and Bugles on road trips and more iced tea and grapes.
