Page 49 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight

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rady found the bed empty but warm on that first morning and got up, yanked his pants on and thundered downstairs without even bothering to fasten them.

He sighed loudly when he saw Cole standing there, drinking a coffee in those old sweats and nothing more.

Grady went to move over and kiss him and then stopped.

Cole froze with his mug halfway down, aborting the movement to set it aside.

Cole huffed and put it down. Grady took it as his cue.

He moved forward and kissed Cole good morning like he did every day.

Cole gave a surprised start but then kissed back.

It wasn’t the surprise of not expecting it—Grady wasn’t sure they’d ever telegraphed intentions more—it seemed the surprise of Grady doing it at all.

Grady kissed him harder at that thought.

Cole relaxed into it, his low back pressed into the kitchen counter, his arms coming up to circle Grady’s neck.

“Morning,” Grady said against his lips.

Cole smiled, his own lips brushing Grady’s. “Morning.”

Grady’s smile widened. He brought his hands up into Cole’s hair, tugged him close and kissed him breathless.

Grady knew they needed to talk. He knew that, if for no other reason than Cole’s own sanity, Cole needed to tell Grady what happened.

Or tell someone. As Grady rode alongside Cole on that first day, surveying the crops and what could be harvested, he remembered the words Cole had inflicted on himself, about himself, and he felt that if that was rattling around in Cole’s head, well then, he needed someone to set him right.

Cole had been unsure when they got back from checking the crop, his eyes down when he mumbled about trying out a different course for Chloe.

Grady didn’t know how much more his heart could take of this painful clenching at seeing him like that.

He told him, gruffly, “Go on and get to it, ain’t no need to be askin’. ”

And Cole’s relieved smile was worth it.

Cole was out building that new course for Chloe when Grady decided to make the call.

Charmaine picked up, and Grady was relieved. For a moment there, he thought she’d reject it once her secretary told her who it was.

“We shouldn’t be talking,” she said.

“This ain’t about that.” Grady let out a breath and leaned back against the hallway wall.

“I’m not going to come after the farm or the ranch.”

“And I ain’t gonna come after you for spousal support,” he replied.

She laughed.

“What? You earn more’n I ever do.”

“If you sold the land…”

It was his turn to laugh.

“Have you got a lawyer yet?” she asked.

“Just send me the papers and I’ll sign ’em. This ain’t about that.”

She sighed. “Get a lawyer.” Then she switched to her lawyer voice, sharp and serious. “What can I do for you, then?”

“It’s about Cole.”

“Your hand?”

Grady nodded. “Yeah.”

“You got him back, then,” she said. She sounded far away, like she’d spun her office chair to face the floor-to-ceiling windows and look out at the city, at the river.

“I got him back. But I reckon some people done wrong by him, and I wanna know where we stand on that.”

She blew out a breath. “I think I take your meaning. When?”

“Been goin’ on a few years, I reckon.”

“And he’d barely be legal now.” She breathed out long and slow. “I thought something was up. Shit, I shouldn’t have said—”

“Never mind that now. I need the lawyer, not the woman.”

“Always such a sweet talker, huh? How did we ever get married?”

“You know it. Now, lawyerin’, what’re we lookin’ at?”

“Well, he was underage, so minimum its statutory, and then if you got non-consent, it’s rape. But I’m assuming there’s no physical evidence? Of course not, years.” She blew out another breath. “Then it’s his word against the man who did it.”

“Men.”

“Jesus. Yes, men.”

“He ain’t gonna talk.”

She sighed, and her tone was gentle. “Then you ain’t got a case.”

“Fuck.” Grady slumped back against the wall. “I wanna, shit. I wanna fuckin’ end them.”

She was oddly silent on the other end, and Grady pulled it together.

“Thanks for the advice,” he said.

“You’re welcome.” She paused, and he let the silence fall between them. “Are you in love with him?”

Grady dragged a hand down his face and nodded. “I reckon.”

She exhaled but didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She laughed, but there was a sadness in it. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but you know.”

He imagined her waving her hand, rocking side to side in her chair and shoving the tears that’d sprung in her eyes deep down.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said.

She laughed again, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Yeah, well. Sometimes that happens. Look, I’ve got to go. Get a lawyer, for us I mean, and if he decides to pursue the other, well. Give me a call.”

She hung up. Grady held the receiver near his ear for a while longer before placing it back in the cradle.

He could hear Cole outside, even from the pasture; he was obviously riding now, his calls of joy at Chloe succeeding at some jump or maneuver.

He always punctuated that riding with lots of yelling and encouragement, seemed to spur the horse into it, and Grady knew nothing about it, never even made it through anything as fancy as rodeo riding himself.

He thought about Cole then, about how he’d stayed on so he could pursue that riding, probably aiming to go professional, and about how those men might’ve slowly drained the dream right out of him.

He shook his head hard. It wasn’t worth dwelling on it, running around and around in circles in his head when he wasn’t sure what was what.

He knew one thing for sure, though: if he saw any one of them again, then they’d be seeing the last of the light in this world.