Page 47 of His Reluctant Cowboy

Instead of fear, Josiah only felt a brief splash of surprise and curiosity. Nothing else, not even revulsion. The further he got from his previous relationship with Seamus, the freer Josiah felt to move through the world. No longer constrained by the limitations Seamus had wrapped around his life, the rules he’d set, or the demands he’d made of his mind, body, and heart.

As the pair moved away, the stranger looked over his shoulder, right at Josiah. His eyes narrowed in some sort of disapproval, or even challenge—Josiah wasn’t sure. It unnerved him, but Josiah was no threat to this guy; he was welcome to Seamus and his coldness, fluctuating moods and rash decisions.

Josiah’s skin prickled and he looked down the row of booths to the Woods Ranch area. Michael was watching him with an intent expression, and even from the long distance, his face seemed to ask if Josiah was okay. He’d seen it. Josiah smiled and nodded. He really was all right.

And for the first time in a long time, he was confident he’d stay that way.

Michael was enjoying himself at the ranch booth a lot more than he expected he would, because kids were not his thing. He didn’t want them, he didn’t particularly like being around them, and he was already not much of a social butterfly. Code didn’t talk back to you. But the kids who came around to pet and feed Minnie Moo the cow were sweet, funny, and they asked a lot of questions.

Brand and Wayne took point at the table, talking to adults about the ranch, the organic beef, and even the wind farm they’d erected in the south pasture two years ago. A lot of it was simple socialization, some of it business, all of it some level of entertaining. Michael got a few questions about Dad’s recovery, and he thanked folks for their thoughtfulness. No one specifically asked Michael how long he was in town for, but the day was young.

At exactly noon, someone rang an old-fashioned dinner bell, signaling the beginning of the potluck. Some of the younger kids cheered and charged the buffet, only to be corralled by some of the adults, either their parents or Sunday school teachers—Michael didn’t know or care. His stomach grumbled for food.

Brand waved him off, so Michael met Dad and Josiah behind their table. Dad’s cheeks had a rosy, healthy glow, and his eyes shone with more joy than Michael had seen since coming home. Dad loved his art, loved talking about his art, and he was in his element surrounded by young people asking him about it.

Their trio joined the line and after a quick discussion, Dad held his and Josiah’s plates, so Josiah could serve them both, and Michael managed his own plate. Little note cards stood next to every pot, pan, or platter, naming the dish and the person or family who’d brought it. By the time they got to their own bowls, the food was halfway gone. Michael caught Josiah’s eye and winked. Josiah blushed.

Michael basked in the simple familiarity of Josiah helping Dad pick out his food and scoop it onto the foam plate. Their trio joked and talked like they’d been a family for years, rather than six weeks, and Michael wanted to be doing this for months. Maybe even years.

He didn’t dare imagine forever.

Josiah found them a spot at the end of a picnic table so Dad could roll right up to it. Once their plates were settled, Josiah went to get everyone drinks. Michael sat on one side of Dad. Josiah’s plate was opposite him. He’d much rather have Josiah beside him, but this wasn’t a date. It was a potluck lunch with most of the town of Weston, plus an assortment of former residents and out-of-town family members.

Michael didn’t pretend to know half the people there, and it didn’t matter. The two most important people in his life were eating with him.

Hugo and Brand joined them before the table filled up, both of their plates overflowing. They sat on Josiah’s side of the table. Every time Michael interacted with the pair socially, he found himself battling strong jolts of jealousy at how in tune and in love the pair was. Even during his best, happiest days with Kenny, Kenny had never looked at Michael like that. Michael wasn’t sure if he’d ever looked at Kenny like that, either.

But neither of them had truly been in the relationship for the other person, not really. They’d been in it for their business, their app, their fortune, and their popularity. The best thing that had ever come out of their relationship for Michael had been Rosco, and he’d lost his dog in the “divorce.” He wanted the kind of love Brand and Hugo had, the kind Wayne and Rose had, even the kind his own parents had before Mom died.

For all the stress they’d endured after they quit ranching, his parents had loved each other. He’d seen his father’s love in how hard he’d grieved. And in the anger he’d shown during that final, fateful fight between Michael and his father.

Someone tapped the back of his hand. Michael snapped his head up and looked right into Josiah’s curious dark eyes. Josiah quirked a questioning eyebrow. Michael was not dragging Josiah down that particular train track of thought today, especially not surrounded by several hundred people. So he waggled his own eyebrows to show he was fine, then took a big bite out of his burger.

“Hey, Josiah, do you ride?” Hugo asked out of the blue. “I’ve been meaning to ask but never think to when I see you.”

Josiah stared at him stupidly for several seconds. “Um, ride a horse? No, I never have. Why?”

“No real reason. I figured if you did, you were probably having withdrawals, because once a horse person, always a horse person. But if you’ve never ridden I’d be happy to teach you. Or Michael could teach you one weekend when he isn’t working.”

“I’d love to teach you,” Michael blurted.

“Really?” Josiah sat with his fork poised halfway to his mouth, a piece of potato salad threatening to fall off the tines. “You never mentioned it before.”

“It never really occurred to me until Hugo said something. I think you’d look good on a horse.” Michael realized how that sounded and cleared his throat, not missing the look Hugo tossed at Brand. “I mean you seem graceful, the type who’d ride well.” Shit, he was not doing himself any favors. He shoved half a dinner roll into his mouth to stop the idiotic statements.

“I’m not sure. Um, we can’t leave Elmer alone on a weekend day.”

“Pshaw, son,” Dad said. “I can sit by myself for two hours so you can learn to ride a horse. Ain’t nothing more freeing in the world than galloping around these parts on horseback. It’d do my old body some good knowing another young’un was out there enjoying himself.”

Josiah glanced at Dad, then Hugo, then finally at Michael. “Okay. Maybe next weekend?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Michael replied, working to keep his joy down to moderate levels so he didn’t give away how much he loved the plan. Josiah really would look gorgeous up on a horse, wind whipping through his hair as they rode across the valleys and plains of the Woods property. “As long as Brand doesn’t mind us using their horses.”

“No skin off my nose,” Brand replied. “The more people who learn to love and appreciate horses the better, and I know my dad would agree.”

“Thank you.” The statement poked at that small thing niggling at the back of Michael’s mind. The thing that wanted to do more with Dad’s land than let it sit there and grow grass as tall as his hip year after year. Thoughts that had swirled in his brain all morning while he worked the ranch booth. Hugo had been great with a shy, eight-year-old boy who’d been terrified of the young cow, coaxing him forward and giving him some hay to feed the big animal. Slowly but surely, the boy had reached out and petted the cow’s side.

His smile had been blinding.

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