Page 92 of The Banker and the Blue Collar Man

“It’s got a year-round well,” he said. “And access to Gordon River, if we needed to irrigate.” As if this were the most important thing, and not what was actually important, which was that he wanted me to agree with him. Which I already did. “Feels like I kind of made this decision without you.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “I don’t know anything about land. Get me into a discussion about thread-count and whether linensheets are better than cotton, and I’m your man. But land? I don’t know a thing about it.” I cast my eyes over the sweep of green, the dots of purple and white flowers, and how the blue sky shot up into forever at the horizon, with not a building in sight. “This looks good to me.” I reach out to circle my fingers around his forearm. “As we go forward, we’ll learn to work together better. But for now?” I swept my other hand over the view. “This is whatyouknow. So, how much?”

“Ten percent down is twenty-three thousand.” He swallowed hard. “The land is 238,000 dollars. It’s twenty minutes from Snow Creek, so I don’t gotta go far—” His voice broke off and I realized the depth of everything he was feeling. And why he wanted this place so much. Twenty minutes of driving wouldn’t matter at all to a star’s light. He would still be beneath the stars that he knew, and when he looked up, their familiar pattern would dance for him.

“Let’s do it,” I said without a moment’s hesitation. Whatever happened to the Scottsbluff property and those water rights as a problem for Future Dalton and Future Jake. “Call the agent.”

“You got that kind of money for a down payment?” His eyes were wide as he looked at me, working the steering wheel again. “I have twenty thousand saved up.”

“I have twenty and then some,” I said. “What if we put down forty thousand to lower our payments and so on?”

I laughed a bit because I guess the banker in me was here to stay, and got out of the car, mostly to step into the shadow-streaked sunshine, but also so Jake would get out of the truck, and move around, and not look so shellshocked that his dream of owning land was about to come true. He followed me to stand in front of Daybreak, and for a moment we were quiet, listening to the wind whistle through the tall prairie grasses, and to feel the heat of the earth soaking into coolness as the sun went down.

He slipped an arm around my waist, and I slipped mine around his.

“This is it, then,” he said. “I’ll build you a house near the bend of the river.” He kissed my temple and said, “Though there ain’t no cottonwoods, not on the whole place.”

“We’ll plant them,” I said, though I didn’t have any idea what that entailed.

“In the fall,” he said, nodding, his eye bright as he scanned the landscape. “That’s when you plant trees. We’ll plant river willows and we’ll get cottonwood seedlings, male and female.”

“What?” I asked.

“Females have seeds that disperse in the wind. They look like bits of cotton, hence the name.”

“And the males?” I asked.

“They’re strong and sturdy,” he said. “They’ll stabilize the soil on the riverbanks and provide habitat for rabbits and nesting birds. Foxes, too.”

Overwhelmed, I buried my face in his chest and, with his arms around me, I felt him shudder. When I looked up, he was wiping tears from his face.

“It’s almost too much,” he said, half to himself, half to the low wind that had picked up.

“It is,” I agreed, a lump growing in my throat. “Maybe dreams are like that. And sometimes they come true.”

“You’re my dream,” he said, turning his attention to me. He held me close and brushed my chin with his fingers to make me look up at him. To make sure I was paying attention. “The land is just a backdrop to how I feel about you.”

My face grew hot. I dipped my chin and looked at the land and the grass and felt the wind tug at my shirt and my hair and closed my eyes to brand the memory on my brain.

I’d not thought, when I said yes to Lucas’ request of bringing a few kids from the city out to the ranch, that it would turn outlike it had. But it had. And here I was, standing on the top of a south-facing slope, with its rocky outcrop giving the land a bit of definition, and the sweep of grass making it look pretty as hell. I could see the river, Gordon River, in the distance, sunlight sparkles on slow-moving water.

Most importantly, Jake was at my side. Tall, broad-shouldered, bruised by his past, but still brave enough to face his future. Our future. We’d tend the land and graze the horses and do those things that cowboy and frontier people did in places like this. And I would never be alone. Never be second, because in Jake’s eyes, I was the most important thing. After that came the land. But what about Daybreak?

“Will Daybreak feel jealous that you have a new love in your life? Loves, I mean. Me and this land?”

“Daybreak willnotfeel jealous,” Jake said stoutly, running his palm over his mouth. “Daybreak has always known how important she is to me, and when she drives her last mile and can’t go no more, I’ll bury her right on this slope.”

“I’ll help you,” I said, blinking back tears.

I didn’t mention that I could buy him a brand new truck this very day. Whatever he needed, whenever he wanted it. I had that 401K after all, and though it wouldn’t last forever, it would be enough to get us well and truly started. But on a day like today, with the smell of rain in the air and the cool wind all around, talk of money would be left for another day. “Now, let’s call that agent. And I could use another beer, if you’re up for it.”

“Yes, please,” he said. He let out a breath and kissed me full on the mouth. Then jingled the keys in his pocket. “Got your phone?”

“Yeah.”

“You can call as I drive.”

“That’s a plan,” I said. I kissed him before I got into the passenger side, and pulled out my phone and dialed the numberas Jake recited it, because, of course, he’d memorized it. I shook my phone when the call didn’t go through. Our lives were just starting, but we didn’t have enough bars. Of course.