Epilogue
One Year Later—June
“So...”
Cursing himself for forgetting his sunglasses, Cal squinted as he glanced up at Las from his kneeled position on the grass outside the dairy barn, where he was assembling a new water trough. “So?” he prompted.
“I ran into your mom in town today.”
Cal gave Las an up and down glance, looking for war wounds, but he appeared to be in one piece. “Did she give you any trouble?”
“No. She nodded, kind of grimaced, and continued on her way.”
Sighing, Cal rubbed his jaw. “Sorry, Las.”
Las shrugged. “You’re still not speaking?”
“No, that’s...” Cal set the hammer aside and sighed again. “That’s not a relationship I want to pick back up.”
In a town the size of Windsor, it was impossible to avoid someone forever. Whenever Cal ran into his mom in town, he remained civil, saying hello and asking how she was, but he didn’t stick around for more than that. Other than that, Cal hadn’t initiated contact and neither had she.
It was for the best. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he felt free. Like he could breathe for the first time in years.
Austin had encouraged him to talk to someone about his childhood and the emotional abuse he’d suffered for years, and although Cal had been reticent at first, he’d eventually started seeing a therapist, and much to his surprise, talking to a neutral third party did actually help.
Las stuck a toe in the ground, and Cal glanced up at him again. “You lingering for a reason?”
“Obviously,” Las said with mock attitude. “I need your help.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I need you to read my preliminary report to the USNC about the cell grazing project and flag where I got information or data wrong.”
“I’ll swap you,” Cal said as he rose, wiping sweat off the back of his neck. Last week, they’d had snow. Today, it was hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. “I’ll read your report if you’ll give me your feedback on the proposal from the land trust.”
“Sold.”
Over the past year, Cal had met with ranchers in western Wyoming, and to his surprise, of the almost 110 ranches in Teton County, fifty-seven of them were interested in buying in to his co-op. Word of it had gotten around, eventually reaching the ears of board members on a few cattle associations, which was how his project had made it onto the desk of the executive director of Wyoming’s largest agricultural land conservation organization.
Cal hadn’t had to go to them. They’d come to him , and after a dozen meetings and even more phone calls, they’d submitted a full proposal outlining why he and his fifty-seven other ranchers should let them partner with them on their co-op.
“Agricultural lands are the only lands that are private within wildlife corridors,” their director of conservation and stewardship, Katie Kauer, had said on her first visit to Windsor Ranch in February. “If we don’t conserve it and the ranch owners have to sell for whatever reason, that land’s going to be split and subdivided, and those intact ecosystems and habitats will no longer exist, making it more difficult for species to roam and find habitat. That’s why it’s so important to protect agricultural lands.”
Las’s eyes had gone huge as Katie had finished, and he’d pumped a fist in excitement. If he wasn’t already deeply committed to Marco, Cal would’ve joked that he’d found his soulmate in Katie.
The best part of Cal’s project, though, was that it was all his. Whitney had given him the green light after he’d written his proposal, then stepped back and let him handle things. It had made him nervous at first, considering he was going to be investing Windsor Ranch money into the co-op. But as Whitney had reminded him, Windsor Ranch was family-owned, and he was family.
Cal had been buried in spreadsheets and research and legalese that made his eyes bleed for a year, and though he and his fifty-seven ranchers were still several months away from officially establishing the co-op, he was having more fun than he’d expected putting all the pieces together.
“Email it,” Las said now, his phone already in his hand. “I’ll give it a read right away.”
Cal chuckled. “It’s not a rush. It’s a hefty proposal. Take a few days with it.” He nodded at Las’s phone. “Send me your report while you’ve got that out.”
“It’s already in your inbox. What do you take me for?”
“Of course it is,” Cal said fondly. “Do I need to read it now or can it wait until tonight?”
“Tonight, tomorrow, the next day. It’s not a rush either. Sometime this week would be good. Just don’t let Austin distract you to the point where you don’t get to it at all.”
“He doesn’t get back until next week,” Cal said absently as he reached for the electric drill. He’d once told Austin that he’d meet him in Europe once he was done teaching for the year and they could travel, but although they’d considered it, Austin had recently admitted that he just wanted to come home.
Cal couldn’t argue with that. If Austin needed to come home to recharge, Cal would never deny him that.
“Are you sure?”
“Am I sure that Austin gets back next week?” Cal scoffed. “Of course I’m sure. I’ve got the flight details to prove it.” Had secretly been counting down the days until Austin’s return too. They were at less than a week now.
“Then why is he standing over there waiting for you to notice him?”
It took a moment for Las’s words to register, and when they did, he frowned at Las, then followed his gaze across the yard to the empty corral.
Where Austin MacIsaac stood leaning back against the railing, cowboy hat shading his eyes, long legs crossed at the ankles.
Cal’s stomach swooped and dove. His heart threatened to leap out of his chest. His palms went damp. He stared at Austin for two, three, four, five seconds, convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him.
The longer he stared, the wider Austin’s smile got, and that was what finally convinced Cal he was real. The lazy smile, the aquamarine eyes, the relaxed posture...
Austin was home.
Six days early.
Three months—that was almost how long it’d been since they’d seen each other. Austin had flown to Norway a mere two days before the start of the fall semester at the Norwegian School of Photography—he’d had to wait until his work visa was approved. And even though it had been expedited—apparently Hedda knew people—it had nevertheless taken several weeks.
Cal had visited him in October and even sat in on a couple of Austin’s classes, just to watch his man work. He had no idea why Austin in teacher mode got him all hot and bothered, but they’d had some amazing Norwegian sex that week.
Austin had returned home for two weeks at the holidays, and they’d spent Christmas with the MacIsaacs. Cal had contemplated dropping by his mom’s for a quick visit, simply because it was the holidays—and wasn’t that a time of reconciliation? In the end, he’d opted not to, knowing that a visit would only leave them both miserable.
The end of January had been cold as fuck in Windsor, but it had been even colder in Norway when Cal had visited for a week. The winter had still been cold as fuck when Austin had returned for the Easter break in March, which had been the last time Cal had hugged him or kissed him or held him close on the couch while they’d watched TV.
Cal hadn’t realized how much he needed physical touch until Austin hadn’t been here.
“I think you broke him,” Las said to Austin, jarring Cal back into the present.
Where Austin was. In the present. Not six days in the future.
He was here.
Now.
Cal stalked toward him, grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt, and kissed the grin that made him crazy, sending their hats tumbling to the ground.
Austin’s laugh was muffled against Cal’s mouth, and just the sound of it... Christ, he was really here . Having him in his arms again after so many months apart was almost like a dream.
“You’re here,” Cal pulled away enough to say inanely.
“I’m here,” Austin said quietly, pulling Cal closer. So close Cal could feel Austin’s heartbeat.
It had been hard, being apart. Harder than Cal had anticipated. Austin had left when their relationship had been so new, in its baby years. Cal had promised to still be here, waiting for him, but in a secret part of his heart, he’d worried that the distance would be too much too soon.
He needn’t have worried. Things hadn’t always been smooth sailing and some days without Austin had been harder than others, but they’d remained solid throughout.
“How did you get here?” Cal asked. “I thought your flight was next week.”
“The Norwegian aliens gave me a lift.”
Laughing, Cal kissed him again, because he could, because Austin was here, because Cal would hold on to him for as long as Austin wanted him.
Forever, he hoped.
“Welcome home, Aus.”
* * *
If you enjoyed Road to a Cowboy , pick up book one in the trilogy, Home for a Cowboy —Las and Marco’s story.