Page 25 of Road to a Cowboy

He was going on a date. With Cal. Tonight.

It was unreal.

“What do you think, Linds?” he asked his late wife while his stall was empty of customers. “Am I crazy for doing this?”

In his mind, she gave him two thumbs-up and uttered a teasing, Go for it, you dummy.

Yeah. Okay.

“Thanks, Linds,” he whispered into the morning, something settling in his chest that he hadn’t known he’d been struggling with.

She’d be okay with this. Hell, she was probably somewhere in the afterlife—whatever that looked like—cheering him on. Lindsay hadn’t been afraid to broach the hard topics—she’d talked at length about how Austin should find someone else after she was gone. In fact, her willingness to discuss the tough shit was what had given him the determination to tell Cal how he felt.

Because feelings were some of the toughest shit to talk about.

Austin had things all planned out for tonight. A dinner reservation for two at Windsor’s fanciest restaurant, then a romantic stroll through Windsor Town Square, which would be devoid of vendors at that time of the day but would look like a fairytale with the lights in the trees and the old-fashioned lamps lining the paved paths. Then back to Austin’s for a nightcap that would lead to...

Well, who knew? Austin wouldn’t push for what Cal wasn’t ready for, but he wouldn’t turn down a first-date goodnight kiss.

He could already imagine what Cal’s lips would feel like. Soft and pillowy and?—

“Hey.”

He jumped, his thoughts scattering like dropped coins.

“I brought you a strawberry lemonade,” Marco said, striding into the stall with a lemonade in each hand and a paper bag tucked under one arm. “And I grabbed sausage, egg, and cheese burritos from that food vendor you like.”

“Thanks.” Austin moved his laptop aside to make space for their breakfast. “And thanks for your help setting up this morning.”

“No problem. It’s technically part of my job, right?” Marco set everything down, then tied his hair into a knot at the top of his head. “Speaking of, it’s also part of my job to remind you to answer your emails.”

“But it’s your job to answer my emails.”

“Not the one from Hedda.”

“Hedda Haarstad?” Austin said, followed by a half-groaned “Ah, fuck. I forgot to get back to her.”

“She sent a follow-up email yesterday.”

“Damn.” Sitting, he pulled his laptop closer. “Let me do that now while it’s quiet.”

The sky was overcast and threatening rain, so the market wasn’t busy. The weather was supposed to clear up around lunchtime, and Austin expected things to pick up as the sun came out and called people outside to enjoy the sunshine.

Setting his burrito aside, he opened his email, navigated to Hedda’s message, gave it a read...

And sucked in a breath.

“What?” Marco asked, mouth full. He’d unfolded the second chair and sat across from Austin. “Swallow through the wrong hole or something?”

“No, I... Hedda’s email.” Austin read it a second time, a third, excitement and disbelief swirling into a medley of emotions inside his chest. “She wants me to... teach? In Norway?”

Marco stared at him. “Uh, yeah. Did you not read her email last week?”

Rather than answer, Austin read it for a fourth time.

His mentor had recently been made headmistress at the Norwegian School of Photography. According to her email, there was an opening for a two-term, ten-month contract position, beginning in mid-August, to cover a leave of absence. The instructor would teach basic photo techniques and, during the winter term, mentor a handful of final term students in the two-year Art Photography program.

Teaching the basics was what he was currently teaching at the community center. It was what he was trying to teach at Central Wyoming College’s outreach center in Jackson—if they’d ever get back to him. And mentoring students... It’d be like mentoring Marco times five because he’d have more students to help and shape and guide.

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