5. Colt
Colt
Ican’t believe I said that out loud to Ethan.
He must think I’m pathetic, preferring the peace of a mountain over the lights and glamor of the city. The city holds no appeal to me for several reasons, but I won’t get into those with Ethan now. Probably never will because that’s something I keep locked up and try not to think about much.
I meant it when I said I wouldn’t let him fall. Nobody falls or gets hurt on my rides. Not once in all the time I’ve been guiding, and I’d like to keep it that way.
Thankfully, he’s ignored the comment. Perhaps he knows it’s not something I want to talk about. Ethan seems like the kind of guy who can peer into your brain without your knowing and has social instincts I can only dream about.
But he’s offered something to distract me, and I should address his fears, even if they’re fabricated to make me more comfortable.
“I know it seems high, but I’m sure you’ve been on a plane or up a tall building before. A horse is much closer to the ground than that.”
Glancing over at Ethan, his eyes widen as he stares at me.
“Dude…literally never thought of that, and I don’t think that makes it any better.” Ethan throws his head back with a laugh before stilling and gripping the reins. His horse stops at his sudden tug.
“Oh my god, why did it stall?”
Now I laugh as I nudge my horse to stop and step backward a few paces, so I’m alongside Ethan.
“Horses don’t stall. You jerked and pulled the reins. To these horses, that’s a stop.” His throat bobs with a swallow, and I reach a hand over to touch his arm. “Do you need a break? It’s okay if the distance from the ground is scary.”
Ethan shakes his head, and his lips tilt into a crooked grin. “No, I’m okay. I was just…” He laughs again. It’s joyous and so…carefree. “You got me thinking about how high I am when I’m in hotels and planes, and now I’m wondering if I’ll ever get over it.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean —”
“It’s okay, Colt. You just gave me information I’d never considered before.”
I like how he admits that. I wish I could offer him something else, but admitting my city dislike is enough.
“Good. We can stop at a great lookout that’s not much further, and you can have a rest. It’s hard the first time.”
He snickers, and I try to shoot him a glance that’s annoyed, but I roll my eyes and allow a smile to form. Ethan’s openness and unashamed flirting might be new to me, but I can’t say I hate how much he makes me smile.
We continue on the path, and every time I glance back to see if Ethan is doing okay, he’s taking photos with his phone. He’s stiff in the saddle and looks very much a tourist. Right down to the new boots, barely scuffed. He’s not someone who might stay here.
With a sigh, I tell myself to make a choice.
I can be professional and stay unattached, like I am with any visitor—polite and friendly, nothing more—or I can try to make a friend for the next six months.
Maybe someone to talk about the deeper things in life with.
Or, if I’m honest, someone to slot into an intimate space in my life that I’ve mostly given up on if he’s interested.
It’s been a long time since I’ve actually had someone in my life like that. Ethan is only here for the season, but it could be cool to have a traveling friend send me postcards when he leaves, if he were into that kind of thing.
Maybe even share his photos while he travels. That might be nice.
Someone to hold close would be nicer, though. I could enjoy it while he’s here and let him go when he leaves. Couldn’t I?
Once we’ve crested a small hill, I urge my horse to a stop and wait for Ethan to do the same next to me. His grin is pure joy this time when his horse stops next to mine.
“I did it! On purpose this time!”
“You did.” I don’t have the heart to tell him that a trail horse will stop whenever the lead horse does. “Do you think you can get down by yourself?”
“Same way I got on, right? Just reverse?”
“Yep.”
Ethan slides his phone into his pocket, stands in the stirrups, and swings his leg over. “Uh, Colt? How far from the ground am I if I let go?”
His free leg hangs in the air above the ground as he remains clutching the saddle horn.
“You’re almost there. Keep your hands on the horse when you let go for balance. Once your foot touches the ground, your other foot should pop right out of the stirrup.”
Standing nearby, I watch as he reluctantly lets go of the saddle. His foot hits the ground, and he wobbles and hops as his other foot releases from the stirrup. Once both feet are on the ground, he turns to me with his hands in the air.
“I’m a damn natural!”
I like the way he smiles when he’s proud of himself like that. The word cute floats into my brain again, and I push it right out. He deserves a word better than cute.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’ve only made it halfway on this ride. When we get back to the ranch, you can decide if that’s still true.”
Ethan sticks his tongue out at me, and I shake my head with a laugh. “Fine. Tell me what we’re looking at.”
After tying our horses to a nearby tree, I gesture toward the valley on our left.
“This is Snow Creek, and that’s one of the widest parts down there.
” He follows my finger as I point to the section downstream, away from the mountains.
“In the spring, the creek has higher water levels from the snowmelt. Rainbow trout will spawn in that smaller section above the wide part in the spring, and brown trout in the fall.” I move my arm, pointing to the spawning area.
“See where the river is skinnier and seems less flowy? Almost quiet?” Ethan nods, and I continue.
“When I bring a guided fishing tour out here, I bring them to the spot below where the rocks poke out. See it?”
Ethan nods again, so I go on. “I don’t like to bring tours too close to the spawn beds. Sometimes they’re not experienced fishers and disturb the eggs. I prefer to keep them away from there.”
“Makes sense.” Ethan nods and snaps a few photos of the creek. “So you ride horses here with fishing gear and fish all day?”
“Fly fish. Yes.”
“And you get paid for it.”
“I do,” I say with a smile, because it really is the best job.
“That’s cool. I’ll need to come with you and learn how to fly fish.”
“First horseback riding and next fly-fishing? Slow down, city boy. You might come to like it here.”
Ethan’s gaze locks on mine before he returns his attention to the valley.
He’s quieter than he was a moment ago, and I don’t know if it’s something I said, but something shifted.
Maybe he’s just really into the scenery and photos?
This is probably as good a time as any to ask him the question I’ve been playing over and over since we left.
“Um…I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?”
“Of course you can.” Ethan doesn’t look my way for a beat, finishing whatever he has in his mind with photos.
When he turns his attention to me, I hold my phone up. “I was hoping you could give me some pointers for using this thing. Maybe start by taking a nice photo? Sometimes people ask me to take their photo out here and…well, I rarely know what I’m doing with it, and I should.”
It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot since Jesse told me about advertising and hiring someone.
Usually, I pass the duty to someone else because I’d feel horrible if the only photo of their monster trout was a blurry image from me.
Ethan might be paid to drum up business, but I’m paid to be the best at my job.
Going the distance and giving them great photos seems like excellent customer service they might brag about.
Ethan steps closer and nods to the phone. “First, you need to turn it on.”
My cheeks heat, and I roll my eyes. “I know that.” I press the button, and the screen remains blank.
A second try, and still nothing. “I guess I didn’t check if it was charged when I went home to get it.
I plugged it in last night and everything.
” I didn’t check, though. Maybe it wasn’t plugged into the outlet.
I’ll keep that part to myself, but I’m sure Ethan suspects it already.
Ethan grabs my wrist before I can stuff the phone back into my pocket. “Colt…we can still use it. Give me the phone.”
Handing it to Ethan, I watch as he roots in the little pouch across his chest and pulls out a flat black object and what looks like a charging cable.
“This is a battery pack. We can charge your phone, and you can still use it. Your model looks like an older one, but we’ll see how long it takes to get enough juice to work with.”
“Huh. I guess that’s…neat.”
“You’ve never seen a battery pack, have you?”
“No. Never needed it.”
“When you bring people out here, how do you stay in touch with the ranch? What if there’s a medical emergency or something?”
“We have a satellite beacon. If we need medical help, I press the SOS button, and it sends our location to a monitored email at the urgent care. We also have long-range walkie-talkies that are pretty decent.”
Ethan nods like he’s impressed. “That’s cool. This is new to me. I’d have brought my cell and figured if I was in trouble, I’d call.” He pulls out his phone and snorts. “I have no service here. Good thing I’m not by myself.”
The spring breeze blows, rustling his hair and knocking a few tree branches together. In the meadow, the short grass flattens as the wind passes over it, and Ethan’s lips part. “Wow…that’s so cool.”
“You should see it when the grass is really long.”
“You’ll bring me again when it’s long?”
“Of course. Whenever you want.”
A beep sounds, and when he checks my phone, he smiles. “Good news, Colt! Your phone has a charge. Let’s take a photo.”
My chest tightens as he taps the camera and explains without an ounce of judgment that when I open the camera, it will point forward automatically. “But if you press this little symbol, it points at you.” Our faces fill the screen, and he raises his arm. “Say cheese, Colt.”
“Cheese.”