Page 44 of His Reluctant Cowboy

“I doubt most of us know ourselves as well as we think.” Josiah kept his gaze straight ahead, but something still seemed to pass between them. A silent, unseen connection over having found some sense of peace on this land, while the rest of the world spun out of control around them. Spinning in wildly different directions, but they’d both lost something precious this past month. They were mourning. They were rebuilding.

Most of all, they’d each found someone who understood. And if all they ever were was friends, Josiah could live with that.

The annual Founder’s Day Picnic was held the last weekend in October, rather than on one specific day of the month. Michael fondly remembered the local holiday for its familial atmosphere and all the games planned for the kids, complete with prizes. Unlike the county fair, which was open to any resident of any town in the county, this celebration was for the citizens of Weston and their families.

The Baptist church had a large pavilion with two dozen picnic tables, and two large charcoal grills just outside, and they hosted it every year. Every family brought at least one covered dish, while the town council (all three members of it) coordinated with the churches to provide utensils, cups, plates, and napkins. The Roost always donated burgers for the grills. And while the day was mostly one big community picnic, often with live music from the Catholic church’s performance choir, which had actually won a few regional awards, the picnic was now also a bit of a stand-in for trick or treating these last five years, thanks to the local Protestant church. This was news to Michael—Halloween was the devil’s night or some such nonsense, so all the kids under twelve were invited to participate in a candy hunt on the church lawn. The whole thing sounded silly to Michael, but this wasn’t his town.

Except it was kind of becoming his town a little bit.

In the two weeks leading up to the picnic, Michael threw himself into work on the ranch and once his probation period was over, Wayne and Brand officially offered him the job. Michael agreed on a six-month term to start. He wasn’t having any luck selling his house, and besides, he was content with Dad and Josiah. Way more content with Dad than he’d expected when Michael first moved back. They still hadn’t talked about Mom or their fight, but the awkward silences from those first few days were gone.

And Josiah? Once Michael got his attraction to the adorable young nurse under control, Josiah was becoming his closest friend. Sure, Michael joked and chatted with the guys at the ranch, but he looked forward to coming home in the evening and seeing what was for dinner. Josiah still frequently ate alone in the trailer, but he occasionally stayed. Or he came back in the evening to watch TV with them. Dad loved it, as if Josiah was the second son he’d never had, and Michael enjoyed watching the pair bond.

Dad’s physical therapy was also progressing rapidly, and Josiah had a good report each night. His right arm was strengthening faster than his leg, giving Dad a lot more independence. He could feed himself and, while he still needed help getting onto the portable toilet, he could clean up after himself. After procuring a wheelchair for him, Michael proudly showed Dad the wooden ramp he’d commissioned from a carpenter in Daisy. It fit perfectly over the porch stairs without being too steep, and was wide enough that one person could still walk up the steps on the right side.

Dad coughed a lot when he saw it and rubbed at his eyes, before offering the most sincere “thank you” Michael had ever gotten from the man.

The ramp allowed them to take Dad out to the barn for the first time since his stroke. The ground was hard packed enough that the wheels rolled right over it. Michael pushed, his chest tight with joy at the wide smile on Dad’s face. He was out in the sunshine again, free of the confines of the house, thanks to his Pearce stubbornness—and Josiah’s constant support.

“Who left this place such a mess?” Dad grumped as they passed the stalls on their way to the workshop.

“You did, you old hoarder,” Michael replied. “I should’ve had someone from the scrapyard come down here while you were stuck in bed.”

“I might be stuck in this chair a while longer yet, but I’d have tanned your hide if you’d done that.”

Michael laughed. He’d joked privately with Dad about selling his junk several times over the last month, but Josiah didn’t seem in on the joke. His face was pinched and upset, and Michael could have kicked himself—not specifically for his own words but for what Dad said about tanning his hide. While Michael had gotten the occasional whack on the behind with Dad’s open palm, usually for mouthing off, Dad wouldn’t do that.

“We’re teasing each other,” Michael whispered to Josiah. “It’s fine.”

“‘Course we’re joshin’ around,” Dad said. “Must be all the sunshine and fresh air but I can’t remember being in a better mood in a dog’s age. Can’t wait to see my ornaments again.”

“Ornaments?” Josiah asked.

“Pet name for his finished projects,” Michael replied. “Even if said project is a six-foot-tall statue made out of old stovepipes and motorcycle engines.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing the master at work one day. Welding fascinates me but I’ve never been brave enough to try it.”

“Takes a deft eye and a practiced hand,” Dad said proudly. Michael pushed him into the workshop and right over to the table holding his partly finished ornaments. “Look at these beauties just waiting to be done. Can’t say as they’ll be ready for the picnic, though. Ah, well, maybe next year.”

“Can’t you still do the booth, though? Maybe take some of your equipment and a few ornaments? Even if you can’t show the kids how to weld, you can tell them what you do and what that thing does.” Josiah pointed at the welding torch.

“Ayup, could probably do that. Could definitely do with some conversation, that’s for damned sure. Only folks I’ve seen besides you two lately is Pastor Lorne and Wayne when he brought over that damned good roast dinner from Rose the other night.”

Even though Michael had assured Rose Woods that their little trio was eating just fine thanks to Josiah, she’d still sent her husband over the other Sunday evening with a full pot roast supper, including apple pie for dessert. They’d eaten the leftovers all week for lunch, giving Josiah a small break from cooking for them.

“Yeah, I bet it’ll be nice to get out for a while,” Michael said. Sometimes he missed the parties Kenny used to throw. Designing software had been an extremely isolating career for him, and he’d enjoyed the social aspect of being Kenny’s partner in business and romantically. At his heart, he enjoyed being around people. He also enjoyed his solitude and smaller social situations, like a beer at the Roost with Brand, Rem, and Hugo once in a while. By now everyone in Weston knew he was back and why, so the picnic would be an interesting exercise in battling gossip and intrusive questions.

“Are you going to the picnic?” he asked Josiah.

“Hadn’t really thought about it,” Josiah replied. He’d wandered to the other side of the table and was once again admiring the metal horse. “I’ll go if you need me to be there for you, Elmer, of course.”

“Nah, it’s your day off, son,” Dad replied. “Michael and I can handle things if you wanna go and enjoy yourself.”

Josiah’s mouth twisted unhappily, and Michael didn’t have to ask why. McBride would be at the picnic in some capacity, and Josiah was likely calculating the odds of running into the man that day. McBride was unlikely to do or say anything in such a public setting, but just seeing the man could be traumatizing for Josiah, if he’d experienced even a fraction of what Michael suspected was true about the pair’s former relationship.

“Come with us as a friend,” Michael said. “We all live here, so we might as well all go together.”

Relief softened Josiah’s expression. “Okay.”

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