3. Colt
Colt
Iknow when a guy is checking me out.
Just because I’m forty and still single doesn’t mean I’m oblivious. I mean, sometimes I am, but not this time.
Ethan is definitely taking notes. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I know if I’m at least going to be friends with the guy, he has to like cream soda. If he doesn’t, I can only assume he’s a monster who prefers Dr. Pepper. So it’s best I learn which side of the fence he’s on right now.
Which is how we’ve landed at the gas station, standing in front of the beverage fridge while he studies his options.
“It’s barely past breakfast, and you’re asking me to drink a soda. This feels like a test.”
I chuckle under my breath since it sort of is a test, and he figured it out quickly.
“Just pick one.”
“You say the red one isn’t as good?” Ethan rubs at his chin like he’s debating over a chess move and not choosing a sugar-filled beverage.
“Absolutely not.” Reaching into the cooler, I grab my usual. “It’s pretty, but the flavor isn’t right. White or brown.”
Ethan hums with a little smile and chooses the same soda as me. “If you say so.”
I pay for both of us at the cashier, and once outside, he twists the cap and offers his bottle to clink. “Here’s to a new friendship and discovering new things.”
His gaze meets mine while he drinks, and I’m drawn to the column of his throat as he swallows. “To friendship,” I return and take a drink while we walk to the Mercantile along Main Street.
He’s still drinking the cream soda, so he’s not a monster, at least.
Ethan’s head is on a swivel as he takes in everything as we walk. He reminds me of a curious child, always stopping to look and ask questions. I don’t mind, though. I was born and raised here and can tell him almost anything he asks. Even how often the city park gets mowed, if he cares to ask.
He stops outside the Mercantile to take a photo with his phone.
Ethan takes a lot of photos, I’ve noticed, since we stopped and parked.
Sometimes of the weirdest things, like the fire hydrant painted like a fish head, and now the sign on the store.
It must be exhausting to always view your world through a camera lens like that.
“Why do you take so many pictures?”
Ethan pockets his phone and tilts his head to study me. “Because it’s mostly my job. I use them to create content.”
There’s that phrase again. Am I really such an old school ranch type that I’ve missed something so vital there’s a job for it?
“Um…what does that mean exactly?”
Ethan’s eyes widen. “Do you own a cell phone at all, Colt? A computer?”
I know my cheeks are flaming red because I’ve had this talk with Jesse and the guys on the ranch many times. “I own both, but I, ah…I don’t use them much.”
Ethan remains quiet for a moment. “You don’t use them,” he states flatly.
“Right.”
His brows scrunch as if I’ve just asked him to answer a complicated math equation.
“So how do you keep in touch with people if you don’t use a phone or computer? Or find out what’s happening in the world?”
“Well, I work with the people I’d need to know about, mostly.
I come downtown like this and talk to people sometimes.
Then I’m up to date on local news.” Ethan seems glued to my response, and I feel a little self-conscious over his rapt attention.
“I can go to websites sometimes if I want to order things, but I try to give my business to the local shops, and to be honest… I often forget to charge my phone.”
I don’t know many people who would want to call me. Just Uncle Albert or his retirement home. If they try my phone and don’t reach me, they usually call Gunner, who comes to find me, then gently reminds me I need to carry the dang thing more.
Other than that, there aren’t exactly legions of people I need to keep in touch with so much to carry a phone. I turn it on when I remember and check for messages, but that’s about it. Most of the time, I forget it at home.
Ethan nods and claps me on the shoulder. “Well, I guess I’ll show you content as I create it. Then you’ll know what it is I do.” He winks and leans closer. “Maybe I can even get you carrying your phone and doing it, too.”
I can’t contain the laugh that sputters out over his confidence with me and a cell phone. “Not likely.” I gesture to the steps in front of us. “So this is the place to get what you need for ranch life. When’s the last time you’ve been on a horse?”
Now it’s Ethan’s turn to be embarrassed. We enter the store together, and he huffs a laugh with a quick glance my way. “Does it count if it was a pony at the fair when I was ten?”
My feet stop moving, and I stare at Ethan. “You’ve never ridden? Ever?”
He shakes his head with a shy smile and empties his soda. “I’ve never wanted to try it, I guess? I had some friends into rodeo back in Canada, but like…I never asked about riding their horses. I was just happy to watch.”
“Wow.” I didn’t think Jesse would hire someone so green for this job.
Not that he needs to be a seasoned horseback rider, but some kind of experience would be nice.
How do you promote a ranch or a trail ride adventure if you don’t know a thing about horses?
“I assume you want to learn now, though, right? Jesse told me to show you all the best things about the ranch, and that’s going to involve being on a horse. ”
Ethan grins, and I like how his eyes crinkle at the sides. Like he spends more time happy than not, and my fingers grip my soda bottle tighter.
“Hell yeah, I do! Show me what I need here to be a proper horseback rider. Let’s do this.”
For the next hour, I lead him through the store and ask questions about what he owns and what he doesn’t.
He chooses mostly jeans and long-sleeved shirts while we wander, and I leave the cowboy boots until the end because they aren’t really a necessity.
He could buy something cheaper and just as functional and get the boots later, but he’s already asking the woman working for sizes and sitting to try them on before I finish telling him that.
“You know, there’s just something about a man in cowboy boots, isn’t there? I should’ve bought some years ago.” He looks me dead in the face and says, “Don’t you think the boots are sexy, Colt?”
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and my ribs try to escape my chest. The woman arrives with Ethan’s boots, and it’s all I can do to whisper, “I’ll be outside.”
Somehow, I make it outside without creating a scene. Once on the sidewalk, I lean against the building and suck air back into my lungs. Was I imagining the look in his eye? I don’t think so. He’s flirting with me and…well, I don’t know how I feel about that.
The easiest way for me to deal with these kinds of situations is to leave.
Just like I did now, by walking out. The difference this time is that I have to keep seeing him for months.
He won’t just go away. He’s not some random guy I worked up the courage to leave with, knowing I’d never see him again.
We have to work together.
I’ve known him for a few hours, and he’s already talking about showing me what content is, admitted he never stays in the same place, and he likes my brand of cream soda. Ethan seems polite and kind, and I just left him holding a boot in his hand like a loser.
Oh god.
What if I misread it and he wasn’t flirting?
What if he was just asking a simple question about my preferences?
Removing my hat, I run a hand through my hair and huff out a breath.
Goddamn my brain for not working as it should.
Just because he’s nice to look at and easy to talk to doesn’t mean he wants to settle down with me and my issues.
Settle down? Groaning, I let my head bonk against the wall outside. I’m a disaster. I’m not single and forty because I’m oblivious. I’m single and forty because I don’t have a lick of sense with reading people’s intentions of a sexual nature.
I can’t disappoint Jesse. The ranch needs this. I’ll just reset the day and start over. Wipe the slate clean and embrace the bull horns…or something like that.
Confident I’m under control, I return inside to find Ethan at the cashier.
“So you’re just going all in and getting the boots today, too, huh?”
My body uncoils when Ethan flashes me a smile, and there’s no awkward tension between us.
“Yep. It’s something I’ve always wanted, so thank you for making it happen. Life is too short not to buy the boots.”
It’s hard not to smile when he’s so happy about a pair of boots. They’re sexy too, even though I didn’t confirm that earlier, but I’ll keep that to myself.
After he pays, I help him with his bags, and we step back outside. The sun is bright and warm, and even though I just had a small case of nerves, it still feels like a good day.
“Do you think you could introduce me to the horses you take on the trail rides today?”
My answering grin is so large it hurts.
“Next to riding them, that’s one of my favorite things. We can do that.”
Yep, today will be a good day.
Yesterday wasn’t a great day after all.
After introducing Ethan to the horses, I couldn’t shake the complicated emotions Ethan stirred. He was so…cute.
Ugh. Who even says that anymore?
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I roll my head toward my alarm clock. It’s only 3 AM, but sleep tonight has been pitiful. Almost as pitiful as me describing Ethan as cute. I’m a mature adult, and that’s the best I can do?
Swinging my legs out of bed, I shove my feet into my slippers and shuffle to the living room.
After flicking on a lamp, I find my journal nearby and open it to a fresh page.
One of the best things to come out of my therapy-filled teenage years was discovering how I could feel better after unloading all my feelings onto paper.
I’m not always great at voicing my emotions, but I can write them down.
One of the first things I unpacked was the box with my journals.
Journals filled with my thoughts and emotions that go back to when mom died sit on a shelf next to a stack of empty ones.
I know I don’t need to keep the older journals, but it feels disrespectful to just throw all my deepest thoughts into a recycle bin.
With a sigh, I open the journal to a fresh page, click the horse-patterned pen, and write.
3 AM, Tuesday, April 14
Yesterday, the ranch hired a new guy to promote the place.
He’s a city guy, and he’s never been on a horse, but he fed Trixie a carrot.
I liked watching him smile. He’s handsome, not cute.
I like how he’s confident in everything.
Although I think the horses made him nervous, he was very good at hiding it.
Ethan moves all the time! He’s even lived in Canada, and he’s so comfortable moving so much.
That’s weird to me, but I’m jealous. Sometimes I wish I could be more like him and explore or adventure, but when I think about that too much, I get that feeling all over, like I need to run and hide. Like the world might disappear, maybe.
It reminds me of how I felt when Uncle Albert asked if I wanted to move when we both had more choices. Leaving Chance felt too much like leaving Mom’s memory behind then.
But something new happened yesterday, and I don’t know how I feel about it.
He takes a lot of pictures because that’s what he does.
He promotes with them like advertisements, I guess.
He said he’d show me what he does. Anyway, he was taking photos of himself with horses, and for a quick second, I wished I could take photos with him.
I don’t mind being in photos, but this is different because I wanted to actually be next to him and smile into the phone beside him.
I’ve never felt that before, and I’m not sure if it means something or not, but it’s kept me up tonight, and that’s why I’m writing this. Part of me really wants to step into his world and try something new, but we’ve only just met, and it feels weird.
Leaning forward, I set the pen and journal on the table. Things always feel better once I write them out, and this time is no different. I feel better, but I’m not sure what to make of it all. I’ve certainly never had a sleepless night thinking about someone feeding a horse before.
It’s likely more than that, but I don’t want to keep thinking about it right now.
After staring out the window for longer than I should, I cross the room to where my phone and laptop sit.
Picking up the phone, I huff a laugh when it won’t turn on and plug the charging cable into it.
It’s a start. Now, to remember to take it with me.