Page 39 of Road to a Cowboy

“Shit.”

He had numerous missed texts and calls from Austin, as well as four voicemails. He ignored the texts for now and hit Play on the first voicemail as he backed out of his mom’s driveway.

The first voicemail was simple enough, Austin wondering where he was and telling him about cooling pizza. The second would’ve been simple too—if Cal hadn’t known Austin well enough to hear the thread of fear in his voice. The third was a simple, “Call me back when you get this.”

The fourth?

“Okay, I’m way past the point of thinking that you’re avoiding me because you don’t want to talk.”

Cal sucked in a breath. Had Austin really thought that?

“Because you wouldn’t ghost me like this,” Austin’s message went on, that thread of fear kicked up to level twenty. “Not after all the texts and voicemails I’ve left you. Which means something’s wrong, and I’m trying really hard not to imagine all the scenarios that would keep you from calling me back. I’m at your house keeping myself sane by reorganizing your pantry—which, by the way, how many times do I have to tell you that the peanut butter and Nutella go on the same shelf?” There was a long pause in which Cal could imagine Austin running a hand through his hair and yanking on the strands out of frustration. “Just... please call me back. Please.”

Since Cal was pulling into his driveway as the voicemail ended, he didn’t bother calling back. Just parked in a hurry and bounded up the porch steps.

God, he hadn’t meant to worry Austin. Had simply forgotten all about tonight when he’d gotten the call that his mother was in the hospital. All he could think was, what if she died and his last interaction with her was one where he shoved his earbuds in his ears to drown her out?

Of course, then he’d sat next to her in the ER and listened to her complain for hours. About the wait times, the no-nonsense attitude of the triage nurse, the lack of beverage options in the vending machine, the hard-backed chairs, how long it had taken Cal to arrive, the bumpy drive in the ambulance from Windsor to Jackson, and anything else she could think of.

All the reasons he wanted to drown her out summarized in an hours-long soliloquy in the emergency room.

It had gotten him thinking, though—what did he want out of his relationship with his mother? If she—or he—died tomorrow, was there anything he’d regret never having said?

He hadn’t come up with any answers.

His front door swung open before he reached it. Austin stood in the doorway, face pale, hair in disarray, dark bags under his eyes. “Thank god.”

The relief, worry, and love in that one statement nearly knocked Cal sideways.

“Are you okay?” Austin’s gaze raked him up and down. “What happened? Where’ve you been?”

“Sorry.” Cal stepped inside and walked right into Austin’s space and circled his fingers around one wrist. The skin was warm and smooth but his arm trembled ever so slightly. “I’m so sorry. My mom had to go to the hospital and I lost total track of time.”

“The hospital?” Austin let the door fall closed behind him. “What happened? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. Bruised her tailbone and broke a rib.”

“Doing what?”

“Falling off the roof. She’s lucky she didn’t break her neck.”

Austin’s brows drew together. “What was she doing on the roof?”

“Cleaning the gutters.”

This is your fault.

Cal gritted his teeth against that memory, his fingers flexing on Austin’s wrist.

“They have services for that,” Austin said. “Hell, she has you for that.”

Cal kicked off his boots and set his cowboy hat aside and didn’t bother explaining about this morning. He still hadn’t let go of Austin.

“Well.” Austin let out a quiet breath. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He didn’t express the same sentiment about Barbara. Because, Cal knew, Austin didn’t much care about her.

Not that he wanted her dead. Just that he wouldn’t shed a tear if something happened to her.

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