Page 70 of Road to a Cowboy

“You look great.” Cal settled a palm on his lower back and guided him to the gangplank, where a distinguished older gentleman was checking tickets. He gave Austin’s jeans a passing glance, but his expression didn’t change, so Austin figured he must’ve passed muster.

“Welcome aboard,” the gentleman said, scanning the tickets on Cal’s phones. “Enjoy your dinner.”

Inside, the boat—ship? Whatever. What did Austin know about sea vehicles? He was from a landlocked state—it was all elegance and class with gleaming crystal goblets and enough cutlery at each place setting to cover several courses. The windows curved upward into a glass ceiling, which would make for spectacular views at other times of the year. In July, however, sunset in this part of the world wasn’t until almost midnight. In fact, he and Cal were heading further north tomorrow to experience the midnight sun—a phenomenon that only happened north of the Article Circle in the summer months where the sun was still visible at midnight.

Austin couldn’t wait to photograph it.

For now, though, he was going to enjoy a fancy dinner with Cal.

They started with a creamy fish soup that was the most decadent thing Austin had ever eaten. That was followed by a meatball dish, the name of which Austin couldn’t pronounce. And dessert was heart-shaped waffles with lingonberry jam. A different wine was paired with each course, and after the waffles, servers walked around offering oat cookies.

“Damn.” Blowing out a breath, Austin sat back and rubbed his full stomach. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah?” Cal touched the back of his hand. “I’m glad. I thought this could be a redo of our first date at Ce Soir.”

Austin’s heart stuttered for a beat. “Cal. I didn’t need a redo. We got one already anyway. Remember?”

“Yeah, I know, but...” Cal grimaced. “I fucked the first one up real good, and I wanted to make it up to you.”

“You didn’t fuck anything up.” Leaning forward, Austin captured Cal’s hand in his. “That failure was on both of us.”

Cal scoffed. “That’s nice of you to say, but we both know that’s a lie. You tried. You wanted to make it nice for the both of us. Make it special. And I couldn’t get out of my own head to meet you halfway.”

“Places like Ce Soir aren’t your thing. I knew that. Should’ve remembered and planned something else.”

“I might not enjoy getting gussied up, but I don’t mind doing it once in a while. Like tonight. The night you planned should’ve been perfect, and I thought for a while that the reason it wasn’t was because I was uncomfortable. But the truth is that I wasn’t in the right mental state. I was still worrying about us and what changing our relationship might mean for the future. I couldn’t stay in the present that night to save my life. So.” Cal waved his free hand around, indicating their current dining experience. “First date, take two. Or maybe three, I don’t know anymore. Plus, how many chances will we get to fancy it up in Norway?”

Austin trapped one of his feet between his under the table. “Take a trip with me next summer. We’ll fancy it up someplace else.”

To his surprise, Cal didn’t automatically reject the idea. “Maybe. I could join you here after your second semester is over and we could travel on the continent. Since you’ll be here anyway.”

Austin choked on his sip of wine. “What are you talking about? I’m not taking the job.”

The look Cal shot him was very Get real, Aus. “Why not?” he asked, perfectly reasonable. As though he was asking why Austin didn’t want gravy on his chicken fried steak instead of why he didn’t want to take a job 4,369 miles away from home.

Austin had checked.

“Because it’s?—”

“Bad timing,” Cal interrupted. “So you’ve said.” He leaned forward, his eyes incredibly soft. “But what’s the real reason?”

Austin opened his mouth to tell Cal that was the real reason, then thought better of it and blew out a breath. Cal would see right through him anyway. Clearly already had. It was nice to be so well known, but also really annoying. “I’d be gone for almost a year.”

“Not that long in the grand scheme of things.”

Austin glanced away, his gaze catching on the couple seated next to them. They were older, Austin’s parents’ age, and they shared an extra helping of heart-shaped waffles. “Within the span of a year,” Austin began quietly, “Lindsay was diagnosed with cancer and died from cancer. You’re right. It’s not that long in the grand scheme of things.” He looked back at Cal. “But a lot can happen in a year. For some people, the grand scheme of things isn’t very long at all.”

Cal rubbed his thumb on the back of Austin’s hand. He stayed silent for several long seconds before his gaze settled on Austin’s with more seriousness than Austin had ever seen on his face—and that was saying something considering he was very often serious. “If you do take this job,” Cal said softly, “I can’t guarantee that nothing will happen to me or your mom or your dad, or to anyone else you care about back home while you’re away. No one can.”

Austin swallowed hard as the truth of that sank in.

“But life is a risk,” Cal continued. “Ranching is risky, and I risk myself every time I go to work. You risk yourself every time you head out to a remote area for a photograph, where nobody could easily get to you if something happened. This—” He waved a hand between them. “—is a risk.”

“I get what you’re saying. There are no guarantees.” Austin looked away, out the window and across the water. “I know that.”

“I know you do.” Cal shifted sideways until Austin met his eyes. “But do you know what is a guarantee? That me and your parents and everyone else will take care of ourselves as best we can. And when you come home?” Cal gently swiped a thumb over Austin’s lower lip, sending all of Austin’s blood rushing south. “I’ll be there waiting for you. So just think about the job. Okay?”

“Why does it feel like you’re trying to send me away?” Austin asked hoarsely.

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