Page 97 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight
And Jesus fucking Christ. Grady wished Tom would come right on back so he could shoot him for real.
“The worst part?” Cole said.
Grady nodded for him to go on.
“They did it in the end. The last time, God. He brought a few men and I said, no, no fuckin’ way. And he said, we’ll sell your horse if you don’t, and then I did it and when I got home she was gone. She was fuckin’ gone.”
Cole broke down into heaving sobs. Grady scooted over, hefted him into his side so Cole could wrap his arms around his middle and cry into his chest. He cried for a long time and Grady just sat there, rubbing his back as Cole let it all out.
“Sorry,” Cole said when he pulled back.
“No,” Grady said and grabbed his chin. “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, you hear?”
Cole gave a weak nod and slumped back into Grady. He went on with his head down. “Anyway, that’s why I can’t leave.”
Grady squeezed him hard.
“I feel like I let her down. I feel like,” Cole cut off to gasp before he punched the words out, “I feel like I left her.”
“I reckon she knows it ain’t your fault.”
Cole shook his head and cried.
He cried until it seemed he couldn’t be crying anymore.
“And I can’t leave, you see?” he sniffed and blinked up at Grady. “’Cause I think... I think if I stay around here, then I haven’t really left her.”
Grady kissed the top of his head. “I take your meaning, Cole. I take it.”
Cole nodded, and they sat that way until the sun was fully up, bathing the day in clear light from its midpoint in the pale blue sky. Cole eventually pushed himself up, scooted away and pulled himself together before glancing at Grady.
“You know I’m queer then,” Cole said.
Grady nodded. “I reckon I know that.”
Cole gave him a look and then looked away. He seemed scared. “And, and I ain’t just helpin’ out.”
“Yeah, I reckon I know that too.”
Cole blew out a breath. “So, I understand if you want me to go then.”
It was Grady’s turn to blow out a breath. He looked out at his land, at the morning sun and the birds flying in on the waves of heat and searching for a cool reprieve to land for the day.
“I ain’t queer,” he finally said.
“I know it,” Cole said quietly.
“But I reckon I might be, a little bit. For you.”
Grady turned so he was facing Cole. Cole was already looking back, and Grady reckoned he couldn’t have shocked him more; he would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel his heart galloping in his chest at what he needed to say.
“And I know I ain’t—” He stopped. Breathed deep. “I know you can probably get better from some clever city boy. But if you want me? Well, I reckon I’d like that, with you.”
“You wanna be with me?”
“Yeah,” Grady said. “I reckon I’d like that. I reckon I’d like that a whole lot.”
“Are you, I mean, are you sure?”
