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“On that grill,” he said before continuing to eat his meal.
It was hard to believe, but after knowing the man for only a week, I knew he didn’t lie about trivial things, if he lied at all.
So far, I’d done a mishmash of things around the small ranch and had even met the cattle. There were two hundred head of them, and me, I thought that was a lot. I was promptly told that wasn’t anything compared to bigger ranches, and it was a lot for him, sure, but he’d had more.
They were Hereford, not that I knew a Hereford from a Longhorn before I’d met Noah. Herefords, he told me, were great for his area, cold hardy and they were great breeders. That was why, he said, that he had so many, because of the somewhat mild winter and spring, every calf that was born had lived.
Red and white, they differed from black and white Bossie in the barn, whom was a Lakenvelder, which rolled off Noah’s tongue with an ease I knew it wouldn’t off my own. He’d purchased her specially for the milk she’d produce.
That was another thing he mentioned again, that like the chicken they were eating, he also traded with local farmers and ranchers for eggs, giving them milk and cheese. And… he made his own cheese. I’d sampled it, and it was amazing.
The self-sufficiency of the place was something I’d never thought still went on in the modern world. Trading for things needed instead of buying them, living literally off your own land, I couldn’t imagine it before I saw it for myself.
He did everything for himself, and even canned his own food, using the vegetables he grew in a garden behind his house, and those he traded for. No packaged spaghetti sauce or salsa for him. He made his own.
After dinners, we had taken to sitting on the porch together, Noah lending me books from his extensive library. We’d sit there, an oil lamp between us and the porch light next to the door to light the pages of the books we’d hold in our hands.
Noah talked little, but when he did, I found I wanted to hear it all, listen to his words of wisdom and his outlook on life.
When I’d go to my little soddy, I was tired through and through, but it was a tired I enjoyed. It came from hard work, my muscles aching nicely, my mind sweet and calm. I hadn’t had a nightmare in more nights than I could remember ever going without, and something inside me had clicked.
Maybe it was the country, or the company, or maybe it was the quiet. I didn’t know then, and I might have never known, if I hadn’t stayed on there.
I might have thought it was a fluke, that it was just getting away from Harvey, but it wasn’t. It was much more.
That night, I had a copy of an old book,To Kill a Mockingbird. I’d never read it, but I couldn’t put it down, and once I finished it that evening, I sighed loudly, without meaning to, catching Noah’s attention.
“You like it?”
“I did. It was… what’s it called, thought provoking?”
“It’s that, yup. Got some more in the house that are thought provoking,” he repeated, laughing a little. As he looked at me, I was struck again by how much he reminded me of Sam Elliot in every movie that the man made me drool. He was handsome, Noah, quiet in good ways, and he was becoming someone I considered a friend. That was maybe why I didn’t just try to jump the man that evening.
It had crossed my mind a few times, but for some reason, I made no move on him, or even told him I was gay, too. I don’t know why, but maybe I wanted him to see me for me and not a trophy.
Yeah, I guess that was it, thinking back on it. I wanted to be more, and with Noah, I felt like much more. And the romance, the sex, all of it that crossed my mind at times, was pushed out by the respect he seemed to have in me, and the trust.
And him? Well, I’d catch him looking at me, and the smoldering way he looked made me think things I shouldn’t. For all I knew, he was watching to make sure I wasn’t fucking something up. Still, I’d catch him looking when he thought I wasn’t, and he’d rub the back of his neck…
But that was my imagination, I was sure of it. I was attracted to the man, too much so, but it wasn’t his looks I liked the most. They were… perfect, but it was him. I liked him for a million other reasons, and I didn’t want to taint that by letting him think I was coming onto him.
The next day came, and I grabbed the breakfast sandwich he brought to the soddy, all while I was getting dressed. I was shirtless and just waking, but he knocked, letting me know we were going to have an early morning of it.
“What’s going on?”
“I have a winter field for the cattle. When the leaves start changing, it’s already too late, and the leaves, they’re going to be changing real soon.”
I thought about all the movies and shows I’d seen, and I got the gist of what he wanted to do. “We’re herding them?”
“Yup.”
I sat on the bed with my shirt in my hand, agape, as I thought of getting on a horse. “I… can’t.”
“You can. You’ve been making the best of things with Tawny. Every day, I see you and that horse. She’ll let you ride her, but you need to learn how to saddle her first.”
I was scared, and it showed. I no longer tried to hide my trepidation about anything around Noah because it did no good. He saw right through any façade I tried to put on for him.
He surprised me still, as he came into the soddy and took the shirt from me, then the sandwich and took both of my hands in his as he kneeled in front of me. “Now, Eli, don’t fret. She likes you and what’s more, she trusts you. So do I. We’re not racing. You don’t need to do anything except sit on her once we get there, blocking one little trail that the cows like to get to when I’m moving them. Cows are like sheep, and they go where the crowd moves. Every once in a while, one thinks for itself and takes off on the road less traveled, so to speak. Something like you, I expect, and me. You being there, on that horse, it’ll make the cow think twice. That’s all I need.”
