Colt
Ihad to push my fishing plans with Ethan back a day.
The ranch needed help with cattle, and Gunner needed my help to fix a gate on the exercise ring. Then I had a call from Uncle Albert’s retirement home. Thank god I had my phone charged that morning. He had a minor fall and went to the hospital, but all was okay.
After that call, so many things came into perfect clarity. I couldn’t reject carrying a phone anymore or forgetting to charge it. What if it had been worse than a fall? I’d never forgive myself if I wasn’t there for him. It opened my eyes to how I’d been behaving, and, with an honesty I’d never voiced, I realized I was so afraid to lose my uncle that I did everything I could to avoid speaking to or visiting him since he moved to the retirement home.
It made little sense, but after a long talk with Gunner, I noticed what I was doing. I’d built a shell to live in to not upset myself. Nobody in and nobody out. The perfect status quo. But it’s impossible to keep it. My only remaining family member will one day be gone, and while I want to spend all my timewith him, I simultaneously keep him at arm’s length because I’m afraid of a life without him.
The lingering trauma of what happened with my mother leaked into my adult life, mostly unnoticed. Maybe a therapist tried to mention it, and I ignored it, but the problem remains.
Just like I don’t want to let anyone in when I’ve denied that I’m lonely for years. Painting, fly-fishing, work…nothing actually fills the gap I’ve created in my life, but I don’t know how to go about filling it. It’s probably not wise to try with a guy who’s only here for a short time, but I like Ethan. He feels safe for me to try, even when I already know I’ll have to say goodbye.
God, no wonder I have anxiety flare-ups. Clearly, I should have kept up with my therapy and not resorted to only journaling.
“Hey, Colt.”
Gunner meets me at my truck as I remove the supplies for today’s fly-fishing outing with Ethan.
“Hey, Gunner. What’s up?”
“Just checking in. How’s your uncle?”
“Fine. Only a bruised ego. He’s embarrassed more than anything.”
“Glad to hear it’s nothing more serious.” He drops his voice and steps closer. “And you? How are you with everything today?”
“Nervous.” I huff a short laugh. “I did a lot of journalling last night. It felt good, but I’m scared, you know? Ethan…”
Gunner’s hand is firm on my shoulder. “Ethan might feel the same as you. At the end of the summer, anything is possible. Enjoy the connection that might be there, Colt. They come so infrequently in life. If you feel it, then be brave.”
“Right, right. I know. If I think too much, I just freeze up, and I’m forty damn years old. I should be an adult.” A rogue anger builds toward myself as I face Gunner. “I’ve been actinglike some sort of sheltered teenager for the better half of my life. I shouldn’t be like this, and I want to change.”
“Colt, you went through things no child should ever experience. Those things don’t just go away. You did what you could, and when it worked, you kept at it. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Self-preservation isn’t a bad thing.”
My therapist used to say something similar when I was younger. Maybe it will never go away, but last night made me hope that maybe, just maybe, I could find someone I felt safe to be with in a way I never had before.
“I’m just frustrated.”
Footsteps crunch in the yard behind us, and we both turn to find Ethan approaching. He’s wearing the vest I gave him over a red flannel shirt with a pair of crisp new jeans and his new cowboy boots. His gaze darts between me and Gunner.
“Hi. Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Gunner says as he surveys Ethan, then pointedly looks at my fishing vest lying on my tailgate. “I was just telling Colt not to hurry back. You should take all the time you need for photos and research. Colt’s fly-fishing excursions have some openings in late summer. We’d love to get those filled.”
Ethan’s face lights up. “All day? Really? I’ll grab an extra battery pack then.”
Without waiting for my reply, he’s jogging back to his cabin, and Gunner laughs under his breath.
“Colt, he’s so eager to be with you. It’s not just about his job. Don’t think I didn’t notice the vest matching yours, either.” He playfully shoves against my shoulder. “I don’t want to see you back here too early. Enjoy it before we get busy. I’ll cover for you.”
He’s a few steps away before I finally find my words.
“Gunner!” He turns to face me, blue eyes still bright. “Thank you.” With a nod anda tip of his ever-present black Stetson, he continues on his way.
“I guess I’m doing this.”
Depositing all the gear we need near the horses I saddled earlier, I pack the saddlebags with the fishing gear on my horse and the cooking gear on Ethan’s. My stomach is in knots, and my mind is fabricating all kinds of scenarios for this trip, both good and bad.
