Epilogue

THE LETTER, as if infused with lead, sat heavily on Clay’s lap. Driving along the two-track lane that led to the cabin, he kept glancing down at it. If he were wise, he’d throw the damn thing out the window. He was sure the message inside had the ability to destroy his world. The fragile calm he and Elliott had found was suddenly threatened by the three little letters on the return address—EOR.

The past year had been rough. It was a good thing they’d both been used to hard work, because being self-sufficient in a remote cabin was really demanding. But instead of working for someone else, they were doing it for themselves. They only had each other to rely on for help and companionship. A year of trial and error, some good, others not so much. Clay wouldn’t change a thing. He’d learned a lot from his trials but even more from his errors.

Clay believed they were in a much better place going into the coming winter than they had been for their first. The gardens were bursting with vegetables still to be harvested, the cabinets and cold storage already chock-full, and the woodpile adequate to get them through a couple of winters. He was ready, ready to kick back, settle in, and enjoy the fruits of their labor through the long winter months. Clay had no fear there would be a repeat of the hardship they had the previous winter. What scared him was that Elliott would throw it all away by taking EOR up on their offer.

Last week, Elliott had received a call from EOR. They’d offered him a pretty penny to head a crew that would take down the rigs, oversee the sale of equipment, and monitor and restore the land. Had it been Clay who’d been given the opportunity, he wouldn’t have needed time to think about it or see the proposal in writing as Elliott had requested. Clay would have responded immediately with a resounding no. Sure, the life he and Elliott were carving out in the North Dakota mountains was hard, they’d had to give up many of the luxuries and modern comforts they were accustomed to, but Clay loved it and he wouldn’t give it up for any amount of money. The time he had with Elliott, working, loving, and playing each day couldn’t have a dollar amount put on it. It was priceless in Clay’s opinion. To be honest, he was a little more than disappointed and a whole lot hurt that Elliott would even consider changing what they had now.

Clay pulled into the drive and cut the engine. He stared out the window at their little cabin. It looked good, damn good. It looked like home. It was home. How could Elliott not see that? There was still time. Clay could dispose of the letter. With a heavy sigh, he picked up the envelope and exited the truck. This was Elliott’s decision to make.

Walking through the front door, Clay was hit with the pleasant scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. “Damn it smells good in here. Please tell me you’re making muffins?” He bent, untied his boots, and pulled them off. He stood back up in time to see Elliott peek his head around the doorjamb of the bedroom.

“Zucchini bread. Check it for me, will ya? I gotta get dressed.”

Clay waggled his brows. “How about you forego the clothes and come check it with me?”

“Hot stoves and naked bits don’t go well together.” Elliott disappeared into the bedroom. “I made coffee.”

Well, it wasn’t tight sexy butt on display while bent over an oven, but hot coffee and warm zucchini bread wasn’t a bad runner-up. Clay glanced at the timer—five more minutes. He peeked inside the oven. Nothing was smoking or on fire, so he went and pulled down a couple mugs from the cupboard. He poured them each a cup. After the numerous times they’d run out of creamer, Clay was used to drinking it black. In fact, he preferred it that way now. Just another change he’d made that had turned out for the better.

He took the mugs to the table, set them down, then tossed the mail next to Elliott’s cup before taking a seat. He wrapped his hands around his mug, his gaze glued to the envelope lying on top of the pile. Such a small, unimposing thing, and yet the contents could turn Clay’s world upside down. Once again, he was hit with the urge to shred it. God, how he wanted to. He didn’t.

“Talk about perfect timing,” Elliott announced, coming into the room. He was dressed in a gray T-shirt, old worn sweatpants, and nothing else. His damp hair fell to the middle of his back, and his beard was trimmed. He looked good. Happy. He turned off the timer and pulled open the oven door, taking a large exaggerated sniff. “Damn, I may have outdone myself this time.”

“Thanks to my gardening skills.”

Elliott pulled the bread from the oven, laughing at their private joke. It had been Elliott who’d brought home the zucchini and summer squash plants. Clay had never been a big fan of veggies; at least he hadn’t been until they started growing their own. Clay had been doubtful about the squash, but Elliott had proved him wrong. Elliott was always experimenting and perfecting his cooking skills. He could give any chef a run for their money. Well, if they were only allowed to use wild game, fish, and vegetables.

Elliott cut two large slices of bread, plated them, and brought them to the table. He then grabbed the butter from the fridge before joining Clay at the table. “It’s supposed to set for five minutes before cutting it, but the way you were drooling, I was worried you’d burn yourself eating out of the pan.”

“Thanks for thinking about me.”

“Only your lips.” Elliott winked. “I may need those later.”

Clay smiled. He took a dollop of butter and smeared it on his bread. It melted instantly, and the scent of sweet butter mingled with the aroma of spices and Clay’s belly growled. He took a big bite, the flavor even better than the scent. It was hot, but that didn’t deter Clay from taking another bite. “Mmm, this is so fucking good.”

“Too bad your table manners aren’t.”

Clay responded by shoving even more into his mouth. Elliott shook his head. He then noticed the envelope and snatched it up. “Cool. This must be the proposal.”

Clay’s stomach dropped and he struggled to keep the fear and disappointment from showing on his face. He doubted it worked, so he picked up his mug and lowered his eyes. He refused to influence Elliott’s decision in any way. He’d already said his piece. Clay washed down his bread, not an easy task with the swell of emotions that had lodged in this throat. Without raising his head, he studied Elliott. Elliott gave nothing away, his features neutral as he read the letter.

Clay was shaking and apparently, Elliott had no clue how hard this was for Clay because he simply returned the letter to the envelope, set it aside, and went back to eating without a single word.

Unable to control it a second longer, Clay blurted out, “Well?”

Elliott finished chewing his bread, then washed it down with a sip of coffee, acting all calm and relaxed. Clay wanted to pop him upside his teasing head. Clay glared at him.

“What?” Elliott asked, sounding completely detached.

Clay scrubbed a hand down his face, ran his beard through his fist, and blew out a calming breath. Still, his tone had an agitated snap when he said, “Would you knock it off and just tell me if you’re going to take them up on their offer.”

“I—”

Clay pointed a warning finger at him. “I swear to god if you say you need to think about it, I will beat you.”

“Really?” Elliott drawled with a sly grin.

Clay rolled his neck, the tension causing it to pop and crack. “Elliott.”

Elliott laughed and pushed out of his chair. He came around the table and shoved his way in until he was straddling Clay. He took Clay’s face in both his hands. “I was making sure they weren’t offering me something we couldn’t refuse, but that was stupid. It hit me as I was reading it, that they could offer me millions and I wouldn’t trade the life I have now.”

Clay’s relief was so profound he nearly collapsed or floated away as the weight was taken off his head and heart. He carefully moved the chair back enough so he could get his arms around Elliott’s waist, then looked up and met his gaze. “Are you sure?” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “You could afford new ties and suspenders. More importantly be closer to places you could wear them.”

Elliott kissed Clay’s forehead. “Hold that thought.” He extricated himself from Clay’s embrace and hurried out of the room.

Clay was curious what Elliott was up to, but he didn’t ask and he didn’t follow. Instead, he took the opportunity to get himself under control. Over the past week, he’d been worried that a part of Elliott would be tired of roughing it and honestly, Clay wouldn’t have blamed him considering the hell they had gone through last winter. It was scary, the weather unpredictable. All the preparation in the world wouldn’t matter if Mother Nature decided to go on a winter rampage. They could easily be snowed in. What if one of them got sick or hurt? What if a tree fell on their cabin, the roof collapsed? So many things could go wrong. Still, there wasn’t a place on earth he’d rather be.

“What do you mean I have nowhere to wear these?”

Clay looked up and burst out laughing. Elliott was standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, big goofy grin on his face, a green bow tie around his neck, and a bright yellow one around his erection.

“Am I dressed to impress?” Elliott asked.

Clay raked his eyes up and down Elliott’s body appreciatively. “Oh yeah, and no one appreciates your fashion sense more than I do.”

“You’re the only one I care to impress.”

All laughter died. The sincerity in Elliott’s voice made Clay’s heart swell until he thought it would burst. Fuck, he was a lucky man. He might not have a lot of material things, wouldn’t get to see the newest movies, have fancy dinners, or attend posh parties. But what he did have was valuable beyond measure.

He pushed to his feet and strolled over to Elliott. Wrapping his arms around Elliott, Clay wiped that silly grin off Elliott’s face with a blistering, all-consuming kiss that left them both breathless when it ended. His lips still pressed to Elliott’s, Clay asked, “How about I show you just how much I appreciate it.”

“Mountain man style?”

“You know it. Now get that ass in there on the bed so I can unwrap my gift.”

They were still laughing long after the mattress stopped bouncing. Hands roaming, exploring. They didn’t need modern conveniences to be happy. Going off grid hadn’t made their lives difficult, it had enriched them. They had each other. They had everything they needed.