“Of course. Your career means something to you, and it’s part of you. I want to know what you love about it.”
Colt speaks with an intensity I’ve not heard from him yet, but I’m pleased it’s for a topic that includes me. Even if it isn’t a glamorous story.
“Okay, I told you my mom was a journalist, and my dad was in the military. Both of them are super career people. I love them, don’t misunderstand that, but as a child, we moved constantly, and there were times I was with one parent and not the other for months at a time.” Some people enjoy constantly moving and seeing new places, and until a few years ago, I was one of them. It was exciting. “My mom gave me her old camera when I was sixteen. I needed to do a project for my high school English class. Take a single photo, then write a short paragraph selling it.”
I glance at Colt while I take a bite of my sandwich. He’s listening. Actually listening.
“After no less than a hundred photos, you know what I picked to talk about and sell?”
Colt shakes his head. “I can’t even guess. What?”
“An orange.” I laugh.
“But the photo spoke to you. How did you sell it?”
Finishing my sandwich, I take a moment to compose my words. I know Colt won’t laugh, but I’ve never shared this with anyone. Nobody has ever asked either, and perhaps that’s something I need to remember, too.
“It was an older orange from the fruit bowl on our counter. I took a photo from the best angle in the sun while sitting on thecouch. Then I told a story about how cheerful it is with dimples and how sweet it is inside. I made it out to be the most fun fruit in the store, and my teacher was so impressed he put me in touch with a local newspaper. I got my first job taking photos around town and just…writing to sell whatever it is.”
“That’s super cool to have that talent and opportunity.”
“Yes, I was fortunate.”
“But?” Colt asks, and I risk a glance. He’s watching me with an expression I can’t read.
“Why do you think there’s a but?”
He pauses for a moment and clears his throat. “You lost your animated expression at the end. You were smiling when you talked about the orange photo. Then it faded when you spoke about the newspaper job.”
“Did I?”
He hums, and I scan his profile as he eats the lunch cookie. I’ve massively underestimated this quiet man.
“I never wanted to sell things I wasn’t in love with. It feels dishonest, but I needed a job, and with all the experience I had from the first newspaper, it just launched me into the world of social media. At first, I only took offers from companies I liked or supported. That’s how I made money and got perks like free shoes and clothes. Nothing important, but it helped.”
“If it’s important to you, it’s still important, Ethan. Don’t let other people dictate your inner beliefs.”
“Do you love what you do, Colt? Is this what you saw for yourself when you were thinking about the future?”
I’m almost positive Colt loves this ranch and what he does, but what he says surprises me.
“It’s not what I pictured for myself initially, but I’m happy. I love working outside and with horses. I love fishing. Most days, this barely feels like work. What I pictured was something different, but I’m not unhappy with what I do forwork.” He drinks from the water bottle and passes it to me. “I’m often unhappy with myself, but never work.”
Our gazes lock, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes before he suddenly stands and gathers our things. “We need to get back to the ranch. It’s a long ride still, and you should stop for some photos on the way back. The view of the valley is gorgeous at dusk.”
I watch his back as he walks to the horses before standing and joining him. We work together with quiet instructions to hand him things, and before we ride, Colt turns to me.
“I’m not unhappy with meeting you, Ethan. I just wish you could stay.”
Then he urges his horse forward, and I’m left to watch his back for the long ride back to the ranch.
I’m not unhappy with meeting him either.
He might even be the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time.
When we returnto the ranch, Colt lets me help with the horses this time.
Our conversation is back to being about the ranch and the horses we just rode. I take more notes and watch him closely while his words about being unhappy with himself keep tumbling through my mind like the river water over the rocks.
