Page 37 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight

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ole smiled at him when Grady found him the next morning with the room cleaned and a lamb in front of him taking a bottle. It was a smile that said almost all his pieces were back together and the armor would be firmly back in place in an hour or so. Grady nodded and asked if he needed a hand.

“Those three,” Cole indicated with his chin at the three milling about on shaky, barely born legs. Grady got one of the bottles from the basket and got to it.

It was still raining something fierce, and Grady knew he didn’t need to tell Cole they’d have to do another search today.

And check the fences. And probably fix the fences.

He got to feeding the lamb in front of him, its tail wagging ferociously, and wondered how he’d managed it without a hand.

And why. His missus called him a stubborn loner, but that wasn’t quite true.

He liked company. Liked it a lot, in fact.

He’d just never found much company he liked.

“Go on, then,” Cole was saying to his lamb, setting him back in his bed near the fire and reaching for the other bottle. “Reckon they can go out once this rain stops.”

“Reckon it’ll clear tonight,” Grady said. “Give ’em back to their mamas in the morning.”

“You hear that? Gonna see ya mama again,” Cole said and grinned at the lamb in front of him.

And that was him back, Grady thought, feeling relieved but also disappointed, which gave him pause—shouldn’t he just be relieved?

But, no, he was worried. Grady didn’t know much about much, but he reckoned Cole was going to need to talk this thing out or he was going to be swinging back and forth, vulnerable to the wrong word or name.

And that wasn’t a way to live around here; Grady was at least sure about that.

He was thinking maybe he’d just ask. He looked up at the sound of the water shifting as it hit the window panes.

It’d gone from sideways and stretched out to fat and straight on, and he knew it was a better time to head out.

He could see Cole knew it too as he moved through the next bottle quickly, making to get up and get going.

“You eat yet?” Grady asked and stood. He wasn’t sure why he was asking; he hadn’t eaten, either, and he knew they wouldn’t.

“We gotta go.” Cole went to the entryway as he said it. “I defrosted some chicken last night. Can get to it when we get back.”

Cole was sitting on the stairs and getting his boots on. Grady sat down next to him and did the same. He huffed a laugh and, from the corner of his eye, saw Cole glaring at him.

“Go on an’ say it then, you got something to say,” Cole said and stood.

And here he was, fully back; the moody little fucker. Though he wasn’t all that little. Grady looked up as he finished tying his laces and smiled.

“Nothin’, just thinkin’ it’s downright funny how you bossin’ me around is all.”

“Yeah, well.” Cole turned, got his jacket on and did his scarf in the mirror like yesterday. “I wouldn’t have to do it if you didn’t make stupid suggestions.”

“Breakfast is stupid now?”

“You know it,” Cole said and gave Grady a mocking smile in the mirror.

Grady swatted him on the ass as he went past and opened the door. The weather didn’t blast him like the day before, which was a start, but it sure as hell felt wetter.

“Think I prefer the wind,” Cole said.

“Ain’t no one else prefers the wind.”

Cole squeezed past him and groped Grady’s ass as he did so. Grady smirked at him sideways. Cole smirked back.

“Chloe does.”

“We ain’t riding.”

Cole shrugged and stepped ahead of him. He flicked his collar up and went to the truck, the rain swallowing him up as he moved. Grady followed, the rain a steady sheet of gray between him and Cole’s form in front of him.

They didn’t have to drive far before they saw a fence that looked like it’d come down in the wind and had been fully taken down by sheep trampling through it, probably disoriented by the storm.

There were two lambs caught in the wire, and Cole was hopping out before Grady had come to a stop.

The windshield wipers slashed through the water as Grady got out, the spray hitting him in the face.

The headlights cut two hazy beams through the wet and gray where Cole was leaning over the first lamb and examining how he was caught.

Grady came up and saw it was a total mess, but the little fella was thrashing around, trying to get his soft hooves on the ground and Grady knew that was a good sign. He hip-bumped Cole aside.

“I got it, check the other one.”

Cole dashed through the puddles, and Grady got to work untangling his own charge.

It was heavy going, getting the wire untangled and not making it worse.

The water ran down his face and he was blinking his eyes to clear it, his fingers going numb as he tried to get the lamb to settle and let him do it.

He popped free eventually, and Grady picked him up.

He stood and made out Cole crouching and trying to do the same with the other one.

Grady took this one to the truck, wrapped him in a towel and set him between the seats before walking over to Cole. He could see Cole picking at the wire and the lamb limp in the fence. Grady put his hand on the shoulder and found it cold but the body still soft like it’d only been dying just now.

“He ain’t made it,” Grady said to Cole.

Cole ignored him. He kept on picking at the wire, nimble fingers gentle like he didn’t want to hurt him further.

“Can just yank him out so we can repair the fence,” Grady said.

Cole shook his head and kept at it. Grady peered at him and saw his face running with water like Grady’s, but his eyes were all red.

Grady kneeled down in the wet grass and got to picking the wire from the front of the body.

He lifted it over the lamb’s head as Cole got the rear wire free from his legs.

Cole picked him up and turned for the truck.

Grady blew out a breath. He got up and started lifting the fence. Cole came alongside him after a moment and helped.

“I reckon they’ll be all right here if we close the front gate,” Cole said, his voice straining like he was trying real hard to get his words to sound normal.

“I reckon,” Grady said. He went and got some wire from the back of the truck. Peering into the cabin, he saw the dead lamb wrapped careful and snug in a blanket at the base of the passenger seat.

Grady repaired the fence and told Cole to drive on up and close the gate. He was walking up and preparing to fix the next hole when the lights from the truck came back as twin beams through the sheet of water, the swish of the windshield wipers loud even above the incessant pounding of the rain.

Cole hopped out and helped him, told him the rest of the fence had held and he didn’t see any more lambs.

Grady grunted and started twisting the wire into a ring and wrapping it around the post, his hands white and numb from cold, slippery with the rain.

Cole took over with his long deft fingers, braiding the wire and securing it.

Grady handed him the pliers to clip off the end.

He tugged at it once they were done and felt it hold. They went back and got in the truck.

The live lamb was curled in a ball like a little fetus, his black eyes looking around, quiet. Grady didn’t look at the other one as he did a U-turn and headed back for the house. He put the truck in Park and scooped up the lamb while Cole said he’d do it.

“I got it.” Grady shut the door and heard Cole coming up behind him.

Grady walked into the living room full of lambs walking around and shitting everywhere and placed the newest arrival in the bed nearest the fire. Cole said he’d get him a bottle.

“I’ll take care of the other one,” Grady said and went back out the open front door.

Cole stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“How?”

“Whaddya mean, how?”

“You gonna bury him?”

“I can, yeah.”

“I’ll do it. You get that one a bottle.”

Grady was going to argue—Cole was shivering something fierce—but his serious expression stopped him. Grady went for the kitchen, and Cole dropped his hand.

The little fella took his time taking the milk, but he was feisty enough by the end of it; Grady reckoned he’d be all right.

He went out, headed for the barn, and found it empty.

Chloe and Red both had their noses out the stall door, though; likely Cole had been there.

Grady went out the other side and saw Cole in the corner of the field, a mountain of dirt beside him like he was digging the world’s biggest hole.

He’d shed his jacket, sweater, hat and scarf, his wet shirt clinging, his hair a black mass of strands sticking to his face, the bundled body beside him.

Grady went over to him. The rain was still coming down, but it’d lightened enough it was almost comfortable to stand in it and talk.

“Reckon that’ll do it,” Grady said.

Cole grunted and put the shovel in again. Grady looked at him and saw his face flushed with exertion, his eyes red with tears and his nose running. Grady stilled his arm before he could plow in any farther.

“That’ll do it.”

Cole shook his head, sniffed and wiped his hand over his face to clear it, dirt smearing his nose and cheek.

“Reckon a few more.”

“All right,” Grady said and took the shovel from him. “You make sure he’s wrapped up nice then.”

“You don’t want the blanket?”

Grady looked back at Cole. His tears had stopped, but his face was racked with pain. “I reckon he can keep it. Keep him warm.”

Cole nodded, dropped his gaze, and cried freely. Grady got to digging. He planted the shovel next to the hole once it was deep enough. Cole bundled up the lamb and put him in, whispered something to him that Grady didn’t want to hear.

Grady filled in the hole while Cole stood beside him, arms around himself, shivering and quiet, eyes still leaking. Grady patted the earth with the back of the shovel and faced him. Cole met his eyes.

“I know it seems—”

Grady gripped his shoulder to stop him. “You done good.”

Cole shook his head and blinked back tears.

“You done good.” Grady tugged him under his arm. “C’mon now, you’re gonna catch a chill, and I reckon them lambs are gonna need ya.”

Grady herded him back inside, told him to go on up and shower and he’d get him some toast, get the dinner started. He listened to Cole’s quiet footsteps on the stairs and on the landing and blew out a breath.

He looked down at Dog and Lady in front of the fire looking around at the lambs with alarm, listened as the water came on gently upstairs with barely a clang. He shook his head and went in to make the food.