Second Epilogue #2
“Dad what?” I flinched. “Here? Joe’s barn?”
“Yes, but like I said,” Joe told me, “he was never a fan of mine. He beat me up a couple of times long before you ran, and once after. You’d been gone ten years when he drove out here and made a stupid try at using a torch on the side of our barn.”
“Did he hurt you? Hurt anyone?” My heart pounded at the thought of Dad bringing violence and mayhem with him here, to this sanctuary.
“Nah. Scared the horses a bit, but not even any injuries there. I wouldn’t have mentioned what he did, but if you’re gonna be in town, someone will make sure to tell you.
Small town, y’know? Been a year since the fire and it’s still hot gossip.
” Joe grinned and the expression didn’t seem fake.
“If he’d wanted to rally the community behind our ass-fuckin’ queer-loving dude ranch, he couldn’t have done better.
Barn-burning does not go over well around here. ”
Sylvester nodded. “Your dad wasn’t popular to begin with, and even folks who were unhappy about us being queer-friendly didn’t want to stand behind him after that. He did us a favor, in a way. Don’t worry.”
“Okay. Uh, thanks.” I had a hard time believing that Dad’s feud with Joe had nothing to do with me, though. I stared up at him, trying to read his face. “He really didn’t give you a hard time about that truck?”
Joe shrugged. “Well, a little. Sheriff Breyer made sure it didn’t get out of hand. Morse hated my queer ass for plenty of other stuff besides you.”
Sylvester said, “He pulled me over on a dark road and tried to jerk me around with a fake drunk-driving charge. He’s an all-purpose homophobic asshole. But he’s in jail for years now, and Breyer told him not to think about living in Dover’s Ridge again when he does get out.”
“That’s good,” Seth suggested.
“Yep.” Joe nodded, his eyes on me. “I’m purely fucking glad to see you alive and in one piece.”
Guilt twinged me. “I should’ve tried to get in touch. Especially since I had your truck. I’m sorry.”
Joe waved me down. “No worries. Especially back then. I knew you needed to disappear. I was just scared that I hadn’t given you enough of a head start to survive on.”
“You did.” I took a step forward to meet Joe’s gray eyes. “That truck saved my life. I’m not shitting you. Took me all the way to California and dropped me on Seth’s doorstep. Kept me alive in freezing weather, and worked two more years after that, till her electronics finally gave up the ghost.”
“I wouldn’t have given it two months,” Joe said. “Hunk of junk when I signed it over to you.”
“Don’t you insult Tilly,” I joked.
“Tilly? After that chestnut mare of Mr. Ford’s that bit your ass?”
We exchanged grins. “That truck’s seat damned near did the same.”
Seth came up beside me, his eyes on Joe. “I owe you more than I can say, Mr. McNeil.”
“Joe, please. We’re casual here on this ranch.”
“Joe, then.” Seth held out his hand. “Austin’s not exaggerating when he says that truck saved him. And me. I was alone until Austin came along in that dying Ford pickup and changed my life. You were more generous than ninety-nine percent of folks would be. If I can ever return the favor, just ask.”
Joe took Seth’s hand, slow and steady, and they shook.
“Pay it forward,” Joe said. “That’s what I did.
I looked at Frankie and I saw me, not that many years before.
Young, gay, scared to death, needing a hand up.
So someday, you and Austin can help some other queer kid stay on their feet when the world tries to knock ’em down. ”
“We will,” Seth agreed.
The sound of tires on the gravel outside made Sylvester turn to a window. “New arrivals,” he told Joe. “I’ll get Nash to help me. You take your time.”
“Not now. We got a job to do.” Joe looked at me. “We’ll catch up proper sometime. Maybe you’ll come with me on my early morning ride and you can tell me what you’ve been up to for ten years.”
“I’d like that,” I told him.
“Right, then. Dinner’s in the main dining room at six.
You’re in for a treat. Sylvester’s old hotel chef signed on to give us Michelin-star meals.
The barn here’s open to guests, but don’t unlatch any stalls.
Paddock over there has the donkey and the mini goats.
Most guests have to stay outside the fence, but I don’t gotta worry about you two. ”
“Mini goats? For real?” Seth asked and I laughed.
“Yeah. Escape artists, the lot of ’em, but the dudes love ’em. The donkey’s good for the coyotes, keeps the predators off the goats.”
I slung an arm around Seth, feeling that loose, frightened bit that’d rattled around inside me for so long coming to anchor at last. “We’ll check them out.”
“Right.” Joe took two steps toward the barn door, then paused. “You’re happy, Austin? For real? You made it through?”
“Took a few dings here and there, but yeah.” I leaned into Seth’s shoulder. “Happy as it’s possible for a man to be.”
“I’m glad.”
“And you?’ I asked. “Looks like you and Sylvester are together?”
“Yeah. We’re something good together. Ain’t put a name on it, but it’s real. Forever kind of real.”
“I’m glad,” I echoed.
“Me and a rich city slicker. Who’d have thought it, huh?
” But already Joe’s attention was pulled to the barnyard, where Sylvester stood greeting a pair of middle-aged women and two pre-teen boys.
“Gotta go. Sylvester needs me. I’ll catch you at dinner.
” He jogged out the door and up to the group of guests by the shiny SUV.
Seth hugged me close as we gazed out the window together. “I’m glad we came.”
“Me too.” I pulled him down for a quick kiss. “Thank you.”
A young man strode in the back door of the barn and we jumped apart, but he just waved at us and ducked through the door labeled, “Feed.”
“I guess they’re used to PDAs at a place like this,” Seth suggested.
“I guess.” To tease him, I said, “I bet Joe and Sylvester are pretty damned hot together. Sylvester’s got a great ass in those jeans, for a middle-aged guy.”
“Sylvester.” Seth pushed me against the wall. “Want to bet I can get you so worked up you can’t remember how to pronounce the guy’s name?”
I laughed under his kiss. “I’d love to see you try. Maybe in our room. That bed’s bigger than ours at home, and the en-suite bathrooms looked fancy on the website. A shower’s calling my name. Well, our names.”
“I can get behind that.” Seth grabbed my ass and squeezed.
My grind against his groin was automatic, but not PG, and there were teenagers around. I pushed a few inches away from him, grinning.
In a minute, we’d cross that barnyard together. Maybe we’d hold hands, or Seth might keep that light touch I loved on the small of my back, and no one would care, but what mattered most was happening right here.
The last time I had my feet on Vickston County soil, I was a lost, terrified boy. Now here I stood, a man with a life I loved, a wide-open future, and my arms around the person I called home. I kissed Seth’s rough chin. “Merry Christmas. Happy almost anniversary.”
Seth cupped my cheek in his work-callused hand and smiled back at me. “Yep. All of that. Now, let’s go mess up those pretty sheets before our Michelin-star dinner.”
“You don’t want to check out the mini-goats first?” I teased.
Seth threw his head back and laughed. “After. Tomorrow. You first and the goats later.” He sobered and brushed my lower lip with his thumb. “You first, always.”
The safest I’d ever felt was losing myself in the green-gold intensity of my husband’s eyes. The happiest I’d ever been was when he bent his head and kissed me one more time.
But to keep the moment from falling over the edge into ridiculously sappy, I murmured, “All right, cowboy, you can buy some goats when we get home.”