18. Eli
Chapter 18
Eli
“ A lright,” I said the moment we were out on the trail. “Spill it. I’m ready.”
“Goddamn, Eli,” Colt huffed. “Can’t we walk more than twenty feet before I have to start spilling my guts to you?”
“No. Because I know how you are, Colt. We’ll walk, you’ll overthink, and then you’ll get all bitchy and quiet and you won’t tell me anything.”
He opened his mouth to retort but closed it a moment later.
“That’s what I thought,” I grinned, giving him a nudge. “Now tell me what’s going on in that head of yours instead of making me guess all the time. You’ve been swinging from hot to cold all week and I need some context. I can’t read your damn mind.”
Colt let out a long sigh, his shoulder slumping. I knew this was the thing he’d been dreading all day. He purposefully hung around the house for a bit after we came back home, making up excuses about needing rest or to make phone calls. Then he was slow with lunch too. It was damn near mid-afternoon before we finally got to the trail just outside the fairgrounds. But now he had no more chances to avoid it. He was going to have to speak his mind at last.
“Let’s start at the beginning,” I said, trying to make it easier for him. “Tell me about the injury that’s got you so worked up.”
Colt kicked at a rock on the trail, his green eyes fixed on the ground. “It ain't just one injury, Eli. It's been a whole string of 'em.”
I waited, giving him space to continue. The late afternoon sun beat down on us as we walked, cicadas buzzing in the tall grass.
“Two years ago, I took a nasty fall in Houston. Cracked three ribs and got a concussion. Docs told me I was lucky it wasn't worse.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then a few months ago in San Antonio, I got trampled. Broke my collarbone and dislocated my shoulder.”
I winced, imagining the pain. “Jesus, Colt. That's rough.”
He nodded, his jaw tight. “Yeah, but I healed up. Got back on the bull. Thought I was invincible, you know? But then four months ago in Dallas...” Colt trailed off, his voice growing quieter. “I got thrown hard. Landed wrong. Fractured my spine.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Shit, Colt. That's serious.”
He nodded, still not meeting my eyes. “Yeah. The doc said I was lucky to be walking. Said if I take another hit like that, I might not be so fortunate next time. Could mean a wheelchair, could mean being dead.” He paused. “And when I got thrown again three weeks ago and I heard my rib crack… well, I just couldn’t bring myself to get back on the bull again.”
We walked in silence for a moment, the weight of his words hanging between us. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were balled into fists at his sides.
“So that's why you're here,” I said softly. “Teaching at Caroline's school instead of riding.”
Colt let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. I thought it would give me some time to heal up and get my head back in the game.” He looked up at me, melancholy in his eyes. “But the longer I’m here… the more I don’t know if I can go back. Or if I should.”
I nodded slowly, processing Colt's words. The trail curved ahead of us, winding through a patch of scrub oak. I could see the pain etched in the lines of his face, the struggle behind his eyes.
“That's a hell of a thing to be carrying around,” I said softly. “No wonder you've been all over the place lately.”
Colt let out a long breath. “Yeah. I just... I don't know who I am without riding, Eli. It's been my whole adult life since I was eighteen. The thought of giving it up for good... it terrifies me.”
We walked in silence for a moment, the only sound the crunch of gravel under our boots and the distant lowing of cattle.
“And then… there’s this,” he said, gesturing between us. “I can’t be a rodeo star and a fag at the same time.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, turning on Colt in a second. Grabbing him by the front of his shirt, I slammed him against a nearby tree, my face only inches from him.
“I don’t want to hear you ever say that fuckin’ word again, Colt! Do you hear me?”
“Jesus, Eli! What the fuck?!”
“You can be upset, and you can be confused,” I growled. “But I will not tolerate you acting like a bigot toward yourself.”
He just stared at me, his eyes full of surprise.
“Do you know how many times that word was shouted at me as I walked down the street as a kid? How many times I heard it in the locker rooms after practice?” I poked him hard in the chest, punctuating each sentence. “People are fucking cruel to folks like you and me. So don’t you dare go putting their words in your mouth. Loving another man doesn’t make you broken, Colt. And it sure as fuck doesn’t mean you’re abnormal. Understood?”
Colt's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and something else—maybe realization—flickering across his face. He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing. “I... I'm sorry, Eli. I didn't mean?—”
“I know you didn't,” I said, my voice softening as I loosened my grip on his shirt. “But you gotta understand, words like that... they hurt. Even when you're using them against yourself. Don’t perpetuate that nastiness.”
Colt nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the ground between us. “You're right. I just... I've never said it out loud before. Never admitted it to anyone but myself.”
I took a step back, giving him some space. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with unspoken words and raw emotion.
“Well,” I said, running a hand through my hair, “you've said it now, though not in a great way.” I looked down at him. “Why don’t you say it again?”
“What good will that do?” he sighed, kicking at the dirt.
“You’d be surprised. Acceptance is a lot easier when it’s not just a bunch of jumbled up thoughts in your head.”
“Eli… I don’t?—”
“Colt,” I said sternly. “Say it. Tell me what you are.”
Colt's eyes met mine, a mix of fear and defiance swirling in their green depths. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he steeled himself.
“I'm...” he started, his voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I'm gay.”
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with years of suppression and denial. I watched as a myriad of emotions flashed across Colt's face - relief, fear, uncertainty.
“There,” I said softly. “Was that so hard?”
Colt let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his red hair again. I could tell he was fighting back tears. “Harder than riding any bull I've ever faced.”
I smiled, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “But you did it. And you're still standing.”
He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Even so, a single tear fell down his cheek. I reached up, wiping it away with my thumb.
“It takes a lot of guts to admit that after the world we grew up in,” I said softly. “You’re a lot stronger than you think.”
Colt leaned into my touch, his eyes closing briefly. When he opened them again, there was a vulnerability there I'd never seen before.
“I don't feel strong,” he admitted quietly. “I feel... lost. Scared. Like everything I've built my life around is crumbling.”
I nodded, understanding all too well. “That's normal, Colt. Coming out, even just to yourself, it's a big deal. And with everything else going on...”
He sighed, pushing off from the tree and starting to walk again. I fell into step beside him.
“I just don't know what to do now,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice. “The rodeo's been my whole life. It's all I know. But even if I could go back physically, which I'm not sure I can, how could I face all those people knowing what I am?”
I walked silently beside Colt for a moment, considering his words. The trail wound through a patch of mesquite trees, their gnarled branches casting dappled shadows on the dusty path.
“You know,” I said finally, “I felt the same way when I first came back to Sagebrush. Like my whole life had fallen apart and I didn't know who I was anymore.”
Colt glanced at me, curiosity in his eyes. “How'd you get past it?”
I shrugged. “I'm still working on it, to be honest. But I realized something important - I'm more than just my job or my sexuality. Those are parts of me, sure, but they don't define me entirely. And I’ve been through worse. I know I can make it through this too.”
We came to a small clearing, a weathered wooden bench nestled against a large oak tree. I gestured for Colt to sit, and he did, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion. I sat beside him, our thighs barely touching.
“You're more than just a bull rider, Colt,” I said softly. “You're smart, you're kind, you're funny as hell when you want to be. And you've got skills beyond just staying on a bull for eight seconds.”
Colt snorted. “Like what?”
“Well, for one, you're great with the kids at Caroline's school. They look up to you and you have real experience that helps them understand what they’re getting into. That's something not many people have.”
He nodded slowly, considering my words. “I do like teaching them. It's... different from competing. Less pressure, I guess.”
“Exactly,” I said, nudging his shoulder with mine. “And that's just one example. You've got a whole life ahead of you, Colt. Maybe you’ve yet to discover what you’re true calling is.”
Colt was quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the sun was starting to dip low. “Maybe you're right,” he said softly. “But it's hard to imagine a life without the rodeo. It's been my whole world for so long.”
I nodded, understanding his struggle. “Change is never easy. But sometimes it's necessary.”
He turned to look at me then, his eyes searching mine. “How do you do it, Eli? How do you start over when everything you've known is gone?”
I let out a long breath, considering his question. “One day at a time, I suppose. You find new things to fill your days, new passions to pursue. And you lean on the people who care about you.”
As I said this, I shifted closer to him, our bodies pressing together. Colt did a quick glance of the area to make sure we were alone before he leaned his head on my shoulder.
“I’m still figuring it out too,” I said, kissing him softly on the temple. “And, if you like, maybe we can figure it out together.”
Colt lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine. There was a vulnerability there I'd never seen before, a mix of hope and fear that made my heart ache.
“I'd like that,” he said softly. “Figuring it out together, I mean.”
I smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Good. Because I'm not going anywhere.”
For a moment, we just sat there, the weight of everything Colt had shared hanging between us. The sun was sinking lower on the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves above us, carrying the scent of sage and dust.
“You know,” Colt said after a while, his voice barely above a whisper, “I've been thinking about you since high school.”
I raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Really? Even back then?”
He nodded, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Yeah. I didn't understand it then, but looking back... I was definitely attracted to you. Scared the hell out of me.”
I chuckled softly. “If only I'd known. Might've saved us both a lot of trouble.”
Colt smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe we weren't ready back then. I know I sure as hell wasn't.”
“Fair point,” I conceded. “So, what changed? Why now?”
He was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “I guess... nearly dying changes a man's perspective. Makes you realize what's really important.” He turned to look at me, his green eyes intense. “And when I saw you again, all those old feelings came rushing back and I got angry. Then you punched me.” We both chuckled. Even though it had happened only a week ago, it felt like a lifetime away. “And then when I had to spend every day in your bed with you nearby, I guess I couldn't ignore them anymore.”
I smiled, warmth spreading through my chest at his words. “Well, I'm glad you finally stopped ignoring them. Even if it took a near-death experience and a punch to the face to get us here.”
Colt laughed softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “Yeah, me too. Though I gotta say, I don’t think my face will ever recover.”
“Well, you’re still beautiful, so no harm done there.”
We fell into a comfortable silence, watching as the last rays of sunlight filtering through the clouds until they were nearly gone. The air was cooling now, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves above us. Night was coming on fast.
“So,” Colt said after a while, his voice hesitant. “What happens now?”
I turned to look at him, taking in the uncertainty in his eyes. “Now? Well, that's up to you, Colt. We can take this as slow or as fast as you want.”
Colt nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I... I think I need some time. To process everything. Figure out what I want.”
“Of course,” I said softly, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “There's no rush. We've got all the time in the world.”
He looked up at me then, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, Eli. For listening. For understanding. For... everything.”
I smiled back, warmth blooming in my chest. “Anytime, cowboy. That's what I'm here for.”
As the last light faded from the sky, we stood up from the bench. The air had grown cooler, and I could feel goosebumps rising on my arms.
“We should head back,” I said softly. “It'll be dark soon.”
Colt nodded, his eyes still distant. As we started walking back down the trail, I noticed him shiver slightly. Without thinking, I shrugged off my zip hoodie and draped it over his shoulders.
He looked at me, surprised. “Eli, you don't have to-”
“I want to,” I said simply. “You looked cold.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks,” he murmured, pulling the jacket tighter around himself.
Then he stopped, reaching up to grab me by the shirt collar. He pulled me down, kissing me hard. And even though he said nothing, I could feel all those years of pent-up emotions in his kiss. It was enough to nearly melt me on the spot.
Colt was everything I’d ever wanted, and I had a notion that the feeling was mutual.