Epilogue - Galen

S now spat against the windowpanes and a high wind whistled outside. But it was warm inside as Galen sat at the kitchen table, a glass of red wine resting at his elbow. His eyes were on Bede, who stood at the gas stove, adding sliced mushrooms to the cast iron pan.

"Is that butter the right temperature?" he asked.

"Yes, my love," said Bede, almost absently as he plopped the mushrooms in the pan and used a wooden spoon to make sure they weren't crowded.

Galen hadn't doubted that Bede knew how to cook mushrooms. He just wanted Bede to know that he was watching him. And, dressed in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, a white apron tied at his waist, Bede was an eyeful. Worthy of being absorbed with ever fibre of Galen's being.

"You're cooking barefoot," Galen remarked.

Galen's dad, Earl, had always taught him to wear shoes while cooking, in case you dropped something that shattered on the floor, or if a spatter of grease happened to fly out of the pan you were using.

"Yes, my love," said Bede again, more on purpose this time, because he knew he was being watched, and he knew Galen loved being called my love .

The mushrooms sizzled in the pan. Bede gave them a slight stir, waiting till they browned before he added any salt.

Galen knew this because Bede had taken the time to patiently explain it to him. Wait till they're brown , he said. Wait till the water is cooked out, then add salt .

After the first time Galen had tasted Bede's cooking, he would have done anything Bede told him to. In the kitchen, Bede was master.

The low light over the stove shone on Bede's dark hair, glinting on the moisture left from Bede's recent sip of red wine. Aproned and barefoot, he was the most beautiful sight Galen had ever seen, and that wasn't the wine talking. It was the truth.

"You should be like this always," said Galen. So, okay, maybe that was the wine talking.

"What do you mean?"

Bede took a sip of his red wine, wiped his bottom lip with his thumb, rested the wooden spoon on a small plate put by the stove for that purpose, and turned his full focus on Galen. Which always took Galen's breath away.

"Barefoot and pregnant," said Galen, laughing as Bede raised his eyebrows as though he was deeply shocked.

"You want to shackle me to this stove," Bede said, pretending do be hurt by this. "To this kitchen. To you?—"

Bede's eyes darkened as Galen got up and moved close to Bede. He tugged him away from the stove, even as Bede turned down the gas beneath the mushrooms.

"Shackled, yes," said Galen, as he gathered Bede's warm body to him. "But to me, only to me."

Bede stuck out his chest, his arms going around Galen's waist. Now they were in an embrace, and Galen didn't care if the mushrooms burned.

"Are you proposing to me, Mr. Parole Officer, sir?" asked Bede.

His eyes were dark and hooded and Galen's breath left him all over again.

He wasn't afraid of Bede, even when Bede found humor in the dark things of the world. But he was a little afraid of the intensity with which he loved this man.

"You will marry me come spring," he said, pretending to be the fierce landlord, twirling his imaginary mustache while he demanded favors from the sweet young thing who was at his mercy.

Galen saw the laughter dancing in Bede's eyes, the desire for playfulness always in the center of Bede's being every waking moment. Behind that laughter, though, was a darkness, still waiting, as though Bede wanted Galen to propose to him for real.

He kissed Bede softly on the mouth and said, "Please marry me come spring. Please say you will."

Bede's eyes widened as though Galen had surprised him utterly. As though he was shaken to his core. His mouth opened as though he hardly knew what to say.

"I mean it," said Galen. He took Bede's wrists, and twisted them behind his waist so they were belly to belly in the warmth of the stovetop. "We can get married in the valley. In the white pavilion. We can get married before the valley opens to customers. Will you say yes?"

"Only if—" Bede paused, as if considering this with the utmost seriousness. "I will marry you, Galen Parnell," he said. "But only if Toby is my flower girl and Owen is my ring bearer."

With that remark, Bede tossed back his head, laughing deep from his belly as he pulled his wrists free, and cupped Galen's face and kissed him hard and then hard again.

"Anywhere you want," said Bede, his mouth moving against Galen's. "Anywhere you want it."

"I think Clay—he's a ranch hand up at the guest ranch—has a daughter," said Galen. "Maybe we can rent her for the afternoon?"

"Or maybe we can get a pair of donkeys to carry us up the aisle?" asked Bede in response, laughing low in his throat. "Those would make for great photos to send back home."

Back home for Bede was a neighborhood in Denver where you locked your doors at night and weren't surprised to see drugs being bought and sold on the corner. Galen knew Bede didn't want to go back to that or even send anyone there an invitation, let alone a photo of what was sure to be a glorious day.

"I'll see what I can do about the donkeys," said Galen, smiling against Bede's mouth. "But only if you say yes."

"Yes," said Bede. "Always, yes. Forever, yes. Yes, yes, yes."

This tumble of words was followed by more kisses, and soon the mushrooms went cold and the red wine warmed to room temperature. Except neither of them cared because the kitchen and all its domesticity would be waiting for them when they came back downstairs from the bedroom. Which was where they were headed.

Dear Reader—Bede persisted about the donkeys, so Galen found a donkey from a rescue mission and gave it to Bede on Christmas Morning, complete with a soft pink and white halter. Her name was Trixie, and she had a bent ear from some accident that nobody knew the history of, and she had enormous brown eyes and a soft gray coat.

Bede would spend hours sitting on an upside-down bucket, brushing her coat and whispering into her bent ear, all the while feeding her bits of carrot and apple. Trixie, in turn, was totally devoted to Bede, and would often insert herself between Bede and Galen, out of jealousy.

For Valentine's Day, Bede found another rescue donkey and gave it to Galen. This donkey was a soft white, and his name was Casper.

When Galen would go out in the morning to begin feeding the chickens and the goats and the ducks, Casper would come trot-trot-trotting across the snow on his small, donkey hooves, bugling his love for Galen at the top of his lungs.

He was not jealous of Bede, and would take any treat that anybody would give him. Consequently, he was, in fact, quite round in the middle, and was very much loved.