Page 60 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight
D
riving to the warehousestook about three hours. It made sense to cut through the town, place the order, go back into town and have lunch, then head back out again. But Grady could actually sense Cole hyperventilating as they approached the turnoff that’d take them that way.
Grady accelerated and drove the old cattle trail, adding a good thirty minutes to the drive, approaching the warehouses from the back. As the town sign whipped by them, Cole blew out a shaky breath.
“Thanks,” he said after a while.
Grady grunted. He sure as hell didn’t know what the kid had against town, but he knew spooked when he saw it, and this was spooked.
Once they got to the warehouses, and some city boys Grady never saw before met them at the front and went through the process for ordering, Cole settled down. He took a clipboard and went around making suggestions, and Grady adjusted things here and there but mostly left him to it. Kid had a good eye forthe whole thing and only ever insisted when it came to feed for the horses. Grady reckoned penning them and using the cheaper feed was the better option. Cole said it was much better to let them out to feed and top them up with good stuff. And well, that’d work too, cost the same, and, as Cole put it, “Besides, they get ridden enough, they won’t get fat.”
Grady shrugged and acquiesced.
The city boys took the order and said it’d be a few hours. They left the trailer, and Grady walked with Cole back to the truck, the winter sky a clear, frigid blue above them. They got in and Grady spun them out and back onto the main road. Cole looked around with a raised eyebrow when Grady headed in the opposite direction from town.
Grady hadn’t been to this spot since he was a boy and he went with his granddaddy to cart water before their town got a pump, but he hoped it was still the same.
He drove off the main road, down a dirt track past the pump, and kept going until the river came into view in front of them. A secluded spot with lush trees and old picnic tables flanked the wider part of the water.
“Wow,” Cole said.
“Yep,” Grady said and parked. “Used to come here with my granddaddy.”
“I never knew this was here.” Cole got out and stood with his hand resting on the door, looking around.
Grady grabbed the backpack and the thermos of coffee and got out. It was cool, but warm in the sun, the picnic table dappled in light, birds all around singing and screeching.
Grady’s boots crunched in the gravel as he went over to the table. He got out their sandwiches and found some biscuits Cole must’ve put in there.
“Shame we can’t go swimmin’,” Cole said as he sat.
“Probably can.” Grady sat across from him and handed over a sandwich. “Just freeze your balls off. It’s deeper than it looks.”
Cole straddled the bench, slouched, and unwrapped his sandwich, gaze fixed on the water rushing in and curling in the wider part before rushing on down the river.
Grady watched those brooding eyes staring out, the quiet way he chewed his food, the thoughtfulness settling on his shoulders in a way Grady was getting used to. He turned to look out and see what might’ve changed since he last came here. Not a whole lot. The water was lower than it used to be, and the trees might’ve gotten older and smaller, but then maybe he’d just gotten bigger.
“I reckon it was always stupid that the farm was gonna go to Chris,” Cole said.
Grady looked at him, Cole was still studying the water.
“He’s the eldest,” Grady said.
“But he weren’t the best fit.”
Grady thought about Chris in the year above him at school; he’d been serious like Cole, but from what Grady could remember, not in the thoughtful way. Just in the serious way. Like he thought he was important, and he carried the weight of that without having any real weight to carry. Grady never got a bad vibe from him, but then, he never really paid him much attention.
“Neither was Jack or Tommy or Kyle or Danny. And Carter…” Cole snorted. “Fuckin’ forget about it.”
Cole finished his sandwich, his mind far away, his face set in bitter lines. And that explained who JP had been referring to—Carter, his brother, nearest to him in age by the sounds of it. And the boy had been back here looking for him.
“I was the best for it, and they all woulda thought it was a joke if I’da even said it,” Cole finished.
Grady thought about it. He didn’t know the Cole boys very well, reckoned he wouldn’t even been able to name them all laidout like that, but he did know this Cole. And Cole would’ve made one hell of a landholder.
“Just the way of it, I guess.”
“You’re lucky,” Cole turned to face him. “Bein’ the only kid.”
