Page 12 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight
“Yep,” Grady said. “Dappled when she gets shorn, though.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Grady glanced at Cole. And well, yeah, of course he would know that. Cole kept his eyes on the sheep. Grady sometimes got the feeling Cole spoke up and then waited to get slapped for it. But it was like he needed to bust the words out sometimes. Like they were bursting to get out, and he held them in until he couldn’t.
“’Course you do.” Grady stood. “You want a beer?”
“Are you makin’ fun of me?” Cole’s gaze was still firmly fixed on the sheep.
Waiting to get slapped? This was paranoia. But all Grady said was, “Nope.” And he went inside to get the beers.
Grady sat back down, handed Cole a beer.
“Sorry,” Cole said.
Grady shrugged. He wasn’t sure what the kid was apologizing for. He remembered being that young, young like everything felt serious and your feelings darted all over the place. Only he hadn’t had to do it with a bunch of older brothers and an asshole for an old man.
“Nothin’ to be sorry about.”
Grady watched Cole out of the corner of his eye as the kid picked the label on his beer, and he decided to throw him a bone.
“’Course you know about the sheep ’cause you grew up with ’em. Just ’cause you’re the youngest doesn’t mean you weren’t there.”
Cole watched Grady as he spoke, his look suspicious before it smoothed out and he nodded.
“What do you know about it?” Cole finally said and gave a cheeky smile over his shoulder.
Grady snorted a laugh. He got up and tapped Cole’s shoulder with his beer as he passed, told him he’d make a start on dinner.
10
T
he next day, Gradystepped out onto the porch, Cole right behind him, and said they’d take the horses. They could ride them out for this move, use the horse trailer when they moved the flock from the far farm.
“Can you ride?” Grady asked as he went through the gate.
“’Course.” Cole was walking a step behind him, head down and boots scuffing the dirt. Lady came up beside him, and he leaned down to give her a pat.
Grady grunted and figured that was the end of it, but as they came around the back of the house to the pasture hidden by a copse of trees where the horses were, he glanced at Cole, and the kid had gone so still, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. His white skin seemed even paler against the weathered black of his hat.
“Sure you can ride?”
Cole nodded and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I just—” He broke off and continued to look at the horses. “It’s been a while.”
Grady wondered what a while could possibly be for someone who wasn’t yet twenty, but he reckoned that wasn’t actually what Cole was going to say, so he didn’t push it.
“Well, I ride Red there.” Grady pointed at his stock horse, a chestnut gelding quarter horse. The horse looked over and then started up his loping gait to get to Grady at the fence. “So you got Chloe.”
Grady inclined his head at the young mare, a flea-bitten gray; she was about as perfect to look at as any horse could get, a Thoroughbred, but—
“She’s a real temperamental ride. Got her for the missus, but they never got along, so she ain’t been ridden much. Doesn’t really like it.”
As Grady was saying all this, he wondered if maybe it was a really bad idea. But Cole was standing on the bottom rung of the fence and looking out at Chloe like she was something special—his eyes lit up and body strained forward—and Grady figured, what’s the worst that could happen? Well, kid could get thrown and hurt, he guessed, but other than that.
“Come on,” Grady said as Red came up and Grady rubbed up and down the white blaze on his nose. “Saddles are this way.”
Grady got Chloe’s bridle and handed it to Cole, who slid it up over his shoulder. Once he had it settled, Grady gave him the saddle and blanket. He expected Cole to have some comment on the English saddle his missus preferred to the ranch saddles everyone else used, but if anything Cole looked approvingly at the absence of the horn. He rested it on his forearm, took the lead rope in his other hand and walked out of the barn while Grady got Red’s gear.
