Page 3 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight

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rady woke up confused. He wasn’t sure where he was and what he was meant to be doing.

It took him a minute to realize it was because it was late afternoon, the light in his room threatening to go dark.

Then he remembered Cole and wondered if he’d have a huge hole in one of his fences when he went out.

He lay still for a moment and listened for the sound of the kid in the house. Nothing.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sat up, and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t slept right through the day in a long time, and he cursed all the stupid thinking he’d done all night—wasting energy and making him tired.

Grady was yanking on his jeans and fastening the buttons when he heard the front door groan open.

He figured the kid must’ve gone out again.

He started thinking on the damage Cole might be trying to hide when he heard his voice—gentle words Grady couldn’t make out, and then the tell-tale sound of nails clicking on the floorboards.

Oh, hell no.

Grady grabbed his shirt, shrugged it onto his shoulders and went out. He could hear the kid and the dogs in the kitchen, Cole murmuring to them softly. He pounded down the stairs in a way he knew would let the dogs know they were in some serious shit.

In the kitchen, the dogs sat at attention at Cole’s feet as he fed them some pieces of cold meat from the plate.

Grady cleared his throat. Cole spun around, eyes wide.

The damn dogs swung their faces to Grady as if to say, Hey, boss , then refocused on Cole, their tails thumping on the floor.

“Ain’t supposed to be inside,” Grady said.

“Oh! Sorry,” Cole looked at the dogs, then back to Grady. “I just wanted to reward them, they stayed with me all day.” He fed them some more meat, his fingers greasy with the fat he let the dogs lick off each digit.

“You worked all day?”

Cole looked up, his eyes landing on Grady’s bare chest. He didn’t look away. He seemed to be actually looking , but then he realized what he was doing, blushed, dropped his gaze, and said, “Yeah.”

Grady started buttoning up his shirt.

“Field’s done,” Cole said, eyes fixed on his socked feet as he patted the dogs.

“It’s done,” Grady repeated.

“Yeah.”

“You worked all day.”

Cole shrugged.

Grady rubbed his chin, then walked back out to have a look. He heard Cole saying something to the dogs and the back door opening.

The sun was below the horizon, but there was enough light for Grady to see the field was, in fact, done. Bit sloppy, but the rows were discernible enough and it’d make for a good crop, all other factors being equal.

Grady tapped his forefinger on his lip and thought he might as well start on the next field. He went back in. Cole was in the kitchen with the bread, butter and meat out, the kettle on.

“You gonna go on up and get some sleep?” Grady asked as he came in to get ready. He stopped because Cole was using everything he needed.

“I’m all right,” Cole replied and proceeded to make sandwiches. “You want relish?” he asked after a moment.

“Huh?” Grady was standing there, watching Cole’s face concentrating on fixing the sandwiches.

“For sandwiches? For the night?” Cole asked tentatively, like he wasn’t sure if he was stepping on some toes again. Grady didn’t like him sounding like that, especially when he was, what? Making Grady’s dinner?

“Uh, yeah.”

Cole gave him a quick smile and got back to it.

“You should just go on up and get some sleep though.” Grady shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched Cole scoop the yellow spread with pickled cucumbers and onions onto a knife and spread it evenly over two slices of bread.

Cole shrugged. “Can’t. I’m a bit wired. You know like”—he glanced up and waved the knife as if to indicate the field—“like I just finished, can’t just turn off.”

Grady grunted but didn’t know what else to say.

He didn’t have a TV. He didn’t have much to offer Cole in the way of winding down.

He was pretty sure he didn’t even have much to offer Cole in the way of conversation, which was a stupid fucking thought—since when did Grady worry about entertaining the hands?

“Sorry about the dogs,” Cole said as he handed Grady his bag with the sandwiches tucked inside and a thermos. Grady took it because he didn’t know what else to do. His farmhands didn’t usually make his dinner and give it to him gift-wrapped, either.

“Don’t worry about it.” Grady headed out. He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder.

“There’s some books and a stereo in the front room if you wanna, you know.” He waved the thermos in the air.

A hint of surprise flitted over Cole’s face, but he nodded and gave one of those weird smiles again before looking down.

“All right,” Grady said and made himself leave. Kid’d been on the road for God knows how long, he can look after himself. Grady went out into the early evening and found the truck parked exactly where it should be, key in the ignition. He jumped in and headed for the next field.