Page 90 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight
She laughed again, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Yeah, well. Sometimes that happens. Look, I’ve got to go. Get a lawyer, for us I mean, and if he decides to pursue the other, well. Give me a call.”
She hung up. Grady held the receiver near his ear for a while longer before placing it back in the cradle. He could hear Cole outside, even from the pasture; he was obviously riding now, his calls of joy at Chloe succeeding at some jump or maneuver. He always punctuated that riding with lots of yelling and encouragement, seemed to spur the horse into it, and Grady knew nothing about it, never even made it through anything as fancy as rodeo riding himself. He thought about Cole then, about how he’d stayed on so he could pursue that riding, probably aiming to go professional, and about how those men might’ve slowly drained the dream right out of him. He shook his head hard. It wasn’t worth dwelling on it, running around and around in circles in his head when he wasn’t sure what was what.
He knew one thing for sure, though: if he saw any one of them again, then they’d be seeing the last of the light in this world.
45
C
ole’s boot slipped intothe stirrup, and his lean body swung up into the saddle as Chloe darted forward a few steps in a skittish trot. He leaned forward and whispered in her pricked-up ears, the smile on his lips genuine and carefree before they took off at a canter. Grady watched from the shadows in the barn, guarded from the slow return of the heat, free to look his fill without Cole having to worry about being watched. He knew Cole was healing, but it was only when he was riding that he seemed fully himself.
When Cole came in at noon, the smile on his face dimmed when he saw Grady sitting at the kitchen table. Grady knew it was the shame, and no matter how many times he could tell Cole he had nothing to be ashamed of, Cole was going to keep on carrying it. He decided to try and come at this another way, a way he’d been thinking on since JP said that name.
“Reckon she’ll be ready for Regionals?” he asked in an attempt to soften the ground. Grady had taken to reading the tiny box in the paper dedicated to the happenings of the fancy riding, and heknew a regional competition was coming up in the city. If Cole qualified, he’d go on to ride the newly named Championships, once known as the National Rally, in the north. The article had talked about making it all more professional. Seeing Cole ride, Grady reckoned this had been the path he’d been angling for.
Cole snorted a derisive laugh, but at least it made the shame fall away. “She’s ready, but I ain’t gonna show my face there. C’mon.”
Grady hadn’t anticipated that response. He didn’t like it, and he wanted to push—tell Cole he ain’t got nothing to be ashamed of, and if he wanted to ride professional, then he should. But that was another conversation.
Cole went about fixing a coffee, pulling the plate of food Grady had made up for him out of the fridge, a surprised smile on his lips when Grady pointed it out. Grady waited until he was done eating before he spoke.
“Carter,” he said and watched Cole swallow his mouthful of coffee very carefully. “He’s your brother, ain’t he?”
“Yeah,” Cole replied slowly. “What of it.”
“He was looking for you,” Grady said. There was something about Cole not being completely abandoned Grady was fixated on. He didn’t know if it was to make himself feel better or he wanted to remind Cole of that fact, wanted to show him he wasn’t alone in this world. People—Grady—were on his side.
“He was lookin’ for somethin’,” Cole muttered.
“He wasn’t tryin’ to look out for you?” Grady pressed.
Cole sat back with a deep sigh. “I dunno,” he answered. He rubbed his hand through his hair, let loose after his ride, and fixed his gaze on the screen door. “I seen him, seen him at the wheat silos. He was all, ‘Jesse, ya gotta come on now, ya gotta let it go.’ But he don’t know nothin’ about it. All he ever cared about was gettin’ outta here. He had no idea what he was talkin’ about, and anyway, that wasn’t his motive.”
“What was his motive?” Grady asked when Cole didn’t go on, but Cole had clammed up good, face set in the way that meant he was once again holding back a breaking point, and Grady knew it was time to let it go.
“You wanna check the cattle—” Grady said at the same as Cole said, “Carter ain’t all bad, but he’s bad enough. Just like—”
“Just like?” Grady asked.
Cole looked at him then, serious and steady, those black eyes like pools of hate. “Just like the rest of ’em.”
Grady nodded. He didn’t know what that meant exactly, but he liked Cole looking at him on the level again, and that was enough.
“Reckon we might have some calves comin’,” he said and stood.
He waited for Cole to suggest they ride out and camp it, but he didn’t. Grady didn’t press—Cole meeting his gaze, showing some fire, was enough for now.
46
C
ole slept in Grady’sbed every night like before, and Grady had a mind to want to keep things like this always. At first, Grady just held him and Cole squeezed him back, vulnerable in a way he wasn’t in the daytime. Within a few days, they were kissing. And when they kissed, Grady held him, held him tight while Cole mouthed at his throat and Grady ran his hand up and down his back. He felt how hard Cole was, and he knew Cole felt his own response pressing into his abdomen. But they never took it further that first week, and that was just fine with Grady.
It was Cole who broke the pattern when he rocked down onto Grady with a firm roll of his hips, his intention clear.
Grady slipped his hands to Cole’s hips, not to stop him, just holding him while he got a rhythm going. They weren’t kissing, Cole’s lips were just brushing against his as he rubbed off on him, their breaths mingling. Grady saw Cole’s eyes squeezing shut and opening again and searching Grady’s out like he wasasking if this was okay, asking if Grady wanted this. Grady pushed his hips up in answer.
Cole gasped and reached down for his pants, trying to shove them out of the way with frantic movements. Grady kept on running his hands up and down the bare planes of Cole’s back, rocking his hips up and getting in Cole’s way.
