Page 23 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight

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he sheep needed to be moved in for shearing. It usually took a couple of weeks and Grady went to and from the house to do it. Normally.

“Can we camp it like with the cattle?” Cole asked the day before they were set to start.

Grady thought about it. They’d have to break it into two trips, coming home for supplies in the middle, but…

“Can’t see why not.”

“Yeehaw!” Cole exclaimed and pumped the air with his fist.

Grady shook his head to hide his smile.

“You better get to sortin’ the food, then.”

“I’m on it, just gotta tell Chloe. She’s gonna be psyched.”

Cole made for the back door as he said it, and Grady didn’t bother telling him there weren’t no need to tell the damn horse, she’d know soon enough.

Grady watched him from the back kitchen window anyway.

Cole jogged out past the washing line, went through the gate and past the tree line and called out.

Chloe raised her head at his approach. She neighed and started walking over to him in that loping quick walk.

Cole stood on the bottom rung of the fence as she pushed her head under his armpit.

He stroked her nose, and Grady could just imagine what he was saying—telling her all about a good ride, trying some different feed, bringing the sheep in.

Grady found himself smiling. He turned away and got to sorting their gear.

It was late afternoon. They had all the preparation done and Grady was about to suggest they take it easy for the rest of the day—they both knew what that was code for—when they turned their heads in unison at the droning sound of a car in the distance.

Cole looked to Grady with a question on his face.

Grady shrugged and went out to the porch.

Cole came as far as the hall and waited behind the screen door.

The sound of the engine came closer, like a fly buzzing in the distance before it lands on you, and a white sedan appeared at the top of the driveway a good half-mile away in a puff of dust.

Grady recognized the vehicle and wondered what the hell he wanted.

He narrowed his eyes as the car came down and came to a stop in front of the house.

Grady glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Cole’s feet rapidly disappearing down the hallway.

The kitchen screen door opened and slammed.

He turned back to the sound of the car door opening and closing.

“Grady, glad I caught you,” Tom said as he came around the car and up to the gate as if his presence was expected and welcome.

Grady leaned on the post at the top of the steps and sized Tom up.

Tom hesitated at the gate, as if realizing that just because he acted like he’d been invited over didn’t mean he had been.

His crisp white button-up didn’t even move with the breeze, and his pressed pants and shiny shoes were out of place against the dirt and weeds that’d sprouted up again, fertilized nicely by the sheep’s manure.

“Can I come in?”

Grady spat and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What for?”

Tom gave him a smile that Grady reckoned he thought was winning and sheepish all at once, but looked more like a man trying to be those things.

“Now, Grady. We’ve talked about this.”

“I ain’t interested. Wasn’t last time, and I ain’t this time.”

“Grady.” Tom shook his head. “This is a great opportunity, what can I do to get you to see that?”

Grady didn’t answer.

“If you’d just let me show you the fee structure, show you the returns you’d get if you upgraded this place,” Tom waved his hand around as if to indicate the house, the land and all the potential Grady wasn’t seeing.

“Reckon I’m all right as I am.”

“Are you sure I can’t come in? How ’bout a beer? I’ve got some good stuff from the city.”

Grady pushed himself up from his lean on the porch.

“Bye, Tom.”

Grady watched as Tom’s face shifted through a few emotions—the flare of irritation he smothered, the sheepish grin again, and then the slimy bank manager.

“You’ll see the light one of these days.”

Grady didn’t say anything.

Tom pointed his finger, waggled it and grinned. “One of these days, Grady.”

And then he was turning back to his car, getting in, starting it and making a large U-turn before heading back up the driveway.

Grady watched as the dust settled and listened until he heard nothing.

“You ain’t takin’ a loan from him, are you?”

Cole’s voice surprised him. He must’ve crept back inside and up the hall. Grady looked over his shoulder and saw him there behind the screen door.

“Not even if he paid me for it.”

Cole was nodding, but Grady couldn’t make out his expression through the screen.

“Good. I fuckin’ hate that guy.”

Now, Grady was used to Cole swearing a bit, and he’d seen enough of his mood swings since he’d been under Grady’s roof to know he could be downright angry, but this was venomous.

No doubt Cole had cause on account of what happened to his daddy’s farm, but Old Man Cole couldn’t be blameless in it. He never had to say yes.

“You reckon he’ll come back?”

“Probably.”

Grady turned, came to the door, and Cole backed up to let him in. Now that Grady could make out his face he could see that Cole was mad, sure, but he was wide-eyed and whiter than usual under that too. He looked like he might be sick and the only thing holding him together was his anger.

“Not for a while, though,” Grady said.

“Good.”

Grady was about to say he was going to get a beer and did Cole want one, but Cole said, “I’m gonna have a shower,” and he was turning and belting up the stairs so fast Grady wasn’t sure what was going on.

He went and got himself a beer anyway, settled on the porch with the dogs and figured Cole would come out later.

Only Cole never reappeared. When Grady turned in for the night, after Cole never even came down for dinner, he paused at Cole’s door and thought he might knock and go in and ask if he was all right.

Grady shook his head and kept on going to his room. He’d never been through what Cole had, so what could he say, anyway?