Lonely At The Top - 4. Chapter 4

Nathan hopped up into the back of his truck, took the soda bottle and twisted the top off with a little hiss. It was quiet out by the creek, and cold, and Nathan doubted there would be anyone along to disturb him with his cream soda and thick sheepskin lined jacket. Soon enough, he had no doubt, there would be frost on the ground in the morning, and then there would be snow, and the continual mission to break the ice on the water troughs to keep all the horses happy and watered. Nathan was glad of the soft not-silence of nature surrounding him, because he was certain he couldn’t have dealt with the company of other people just then: his brain was already too full.

Taylor hadn’t apologized for talking about him, and Nathan was surprised it didn’t upset him. He was a long way from proud of his actions, but he was relieved to have said it aloud. He hadn’t even admitted the act in his head before it had come blurting out of his mouth, not once in three years. At the time, Nathan hadn’t thought much of it, too consumed in getting his own pleasure, regardless of the cost. Afterwards, once Clem had turned around in the yard and walked away from him, Nathan had started to wonder if he had been more than a little rough with his partner. But even though Nathan doubted Clem would ever say as much, or even mention it to anyone, he knew now that there was no way what he’d done was anything less than a violation of a man who had once said he loved him. And Nathan had snapped at him for saying it, growled at him for wanting kisses, or casual lingering touches, and dismissed his worries and concerns. There wasn’t a single way to make his history look like he’d been a good boyfriend. And since Clem, there was nothing but a meaningless string of anonymous sex and condoms, a few sexual health screenings for which he had driven into one of Austin’s free clinics and some sleepless nights when all he’d done was wonder if he’d signed his own death sentence. He’d been lucky: way too lucky.

Nathan had sat dressed in a sheet and felt slightly self-conscious whilst Taylor had made him breakfast and the rich expensive coffee Nathan had secretly grown to love. When the beautiful man had sat opposite him, Nathan had fought to get his words out first.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown up like I did an’,” he took a deep breath, “treated you like that.”

“I forgive you.”

“You do?” Nathan frowned.

“Yes,” Taylor smiled at him across the breakfast bar, “but I’m not gonna pretend I’m OK with what you told me. D’you think maybe you should talk to someone about it?”

“I talked to you…” Nathan blinked slowly: he knew that wasn’t what Taylor meant. The idea of sitting down and talking to a stranger about his feelings made his stomach clench violently. Cole men, in Nathan’s father’s opinion, all real men, did not talk about their feelings. Emotional turmoil was for women, little girls and sissies. Apart from grunting that ‘he was fine’ Nathan had never been encouraged to discuss anything other than the progress of the horses or the latest modifications he’d made to his truck. He was not above admitting the word ‘therapy’ made him want to run back to the horse pasture and never look back. “What do you think I should do?”

“There’s a group; I looked it up online.”

“Taylor…” Nathan frowned. To his surprise, Taylor reached across the surface and took his hand. Ordinarily Nathan would have pulled away, but there was something nice about knowing Taylor supported him.

“I’ll go with you,” Taylor squeezed his fingers. “Look, Nate; I know we’ve never… defined this thing between us-.”

“You don’t have to do this for me Taylor: I’m not your boyfriend.”

“I know, but we’re not just fuck-buddies anymore either. I care about you Nate: you’re not a bad guy, I mean that.”

Nathan had let go of his hand and hidden his face in his fingers, unable to look at the honesty in Taylor’s eyes. For a long time they had been company for each other, no more or less than a warm body and easy satisfaction for them both, but Nathan knew he had been lying to himself for months. He liked Taylor, they had watched a dozen football matches over beers and whiskey, cheered and drank in sympathy with cowboys fallen from their bulls, and Nathan couldn’t kid himself that he didn’t enjoy the companionship of the other man. Taylor was more than just a warm hard body.

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“OK.”

“An’ maybe one of these days I can come down your way, meet some of your friends, and this Cayman you talk about.”

“Yeah?” Nathan had arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah, unless you think I’d be embarrassing…”

“You own blue jeans right?” Taylor nodded. “You’ll do grand.”

Nathan finished up his soda and lay back in the bed of his truck. He had avoided his father all day, skipped out stalls in the southernmost block and hidden in the hayloft when he’d heard voices looking for him. Nathan hadn’t snuck away up there since he’d been a teenager, escaping from his parents and the mob of his little sisters, so that he could daydream about guys, and stare openly at the centrefolds of Men’s Fitness which had made him feel hot under the collar and tight of crotch since before he could accurately remember. The hayloft was where Nathan had taken his first ‘date’, Jimmy’s second cousin from out of state, and they had lain amongst the dried grass and kissed for hours. Until the previous night he had spent in Taylor’s bed, Nathan couldn’t remember ever lying down with another guy and not having sex: it was more important to get laid than it was to sleep.

The last of the gold-red rays of the sun vanished down over the distant horizon, and Nathan stared out over the river towards the land he could not see, but that he knew belonged to Clem Linton and Ashlee Charles. Firefly Creek Ranch was only a short drive away, but Nathan hadn’t taken the road out that way since before spring. As soon as the sign hanging from the gate had read ‘sold’ Nathan hadn’t been able to bring himself to see it. He knew, had heard, that Ashlee and Clem had their names on the fresh white-painted sign, but Nathan didn’t want to see it. Staying with Clem forever hadn’t been anything he’d ever thought about, but knowing his ex-boyfriend had bought land and set up a thriving farm business with some skinny pretty boy from Austin was more than Nathan knew he could cope with. He did not want to spend the rest of his life angry with Clem for leaving in, because in the dark under the Texas stars, Nathan knew he deserved every bit of pain.

He drove home under the cover of darkness and left his truck sitting next to the fence line at the back end of the little paddocks. The quarter-acre squares were where the ranch hands horses lived, and the others who were ridden daily by members of the family. As a stallion, Cayman had a field all to himself, complete with a field shelter and by the time Nathan had climbed the fence, the big horse was there, snorting softly in the dark, waiting for him. Nathan couldn’t remember a single moment he had ever been afraid of his horse, not once in twelve years, and he wrapped both arms around Caymen’s thick neck as the stallion nuzzled his shoulders and spine with his velvet soft nose. Even though it was dark, Nathan simply laid his palm against Cayman’s shoulder, and let the horse lead him across the paddock towards the field shelter. It was not the first time Nathan had waited for his horse to lie down, and then tucked himself into the warm space at Cayman’s chest and neck: but it was the first when he had turned to press his face against the soft fur and allowed himself to cry. If forced, Nathan could not have said why tears were wetting the coat of his beloved steed, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt anyway.

*

“Hi, I’m Nathan.” He nodded, and then sat back down again. Some people in the group had introduced themselves along with facts, others hadn’t, and Nathan had no idea what he would have followed up with; it was not as simple as admitting to being an alcoholic. He glanced across at Taylor, and was both surprised and pleased when the other man grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly. The next person around the circle stood up and introduced themselves, and like others seemed recognised by the group as a whole, but Nathan couldn’t focus fully on what anyone was saying, because his heartbeat sounded like thundering hooves in his ears, and it was already hard to breathe.

He hadn’t made any excuses about where he was going, just finished up his morning chores, ridden his horse around to check on the two year olds in their large field, sitting atop his stallion whilst the young colts came to investigate them. He’d eaten pop tarts in his trailer whilst looking at his clothes, and then driven his truck away from the ranch. He knew his father was still looking for him. Since he’d broken up with Clem, Nathan had hardly ever missed a family dinner, and had always left word of where he’d gone – even if that message wasn’t very specific. Now it was the middle of the afternoon in downtown Austin, and by rights Nathan Cole should have been cleaning tack or working on cutting skills with any one of several promising young horses, but instead he was sitting on a cheap folding chair in a hall that smelt like dust and wood polish, listening to a young woman talk about experiences which had taken her years to recover from.

“For a long time, I didn’t trust any men at all: a really long time. In my head they were all ‘him’, and all I could think was what had been done to me…” she stopped and took a deep breath. Nathan smiled towards the floor, because it was nice to know he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t manage to get through a whole sentence without needing to regroup. “What was done to me was monstrous, but not all men are monsters. I didn’t see that for a long time. A met a lady in the park who was scared of my dog, because she was attacked by a German shepherd as a child and so hated and feared all German shepherds on sight. I tried to reason with her, let her know that my dog was friendly and soft – she is, she’ll lie on her back with her tongue flopping on the floor and beg for belly rubs all day long – but this lady wouldn’t believe me. But I was no better: I made the same judgement as that lady did. I’m glad that I’m not like that now.” She smiled and sat back in her chair, “thanks for letting me share.”

There was some clapping from around the circle, and another girl who knew her leant across and hugged the shoulders of the woman who had spoken. Nathan glanced at Taylor who was smiling broadly, and gulped: he was going to have to say something, because he could not go home again with the weight sitting on his heart that had been there for years.

“Thank you Diane; it’s so nice to hear you making progress. That’s why we’re all here: to help and support each other so we can all lead better lives, regardless of what has happened to us or what we’ve done.” The group leader, a very ordinary looking man in his mid-thirties with blond hair and a well groomed moustache smiled around at the circle, “I see we have a few new faces today. You don’t have to, but I wonder if anyone would like to share?”

Nathan closed his eyes. There was no going back from this moment. It was one thing to admit what he’d done to Taylor, alone and in a state of utter despair, but quite another to take the plunge of saying the words, measured and calm, in front of a group of people he didn’t even know. He glanced up across the circle, and knew this was one of those times he needed to be strong.

“Hi.”

“Hi Nathan,” mostly everyone in the group had remembered his name, and nodded and smiled, waiting expectantly for his words.

“Three years ago…” he blinked, trying not to remember exactly what had happened: the knuckles of his clenched fist could still remember the texture of Clem’s skull. “I raped my boyfriend,” the room was silent apart from the soft whirr of the heating system, “we broke up: he left me. It was a bit of a mess, more than a bit…” the big cowboy fiddled with the snaps on his shirt cuff, “I didn’t tell anyone.”

It took a long time for anyone to say anything, but after a while, a young man sitting opposite Nathan leant forwards.

“Did he report you?”

“No. As far as I can tell neither of us ever said anythin’ to anyone.”

“And is he…?”

“Happy,” Nathan shrugged, “he started going out with some fa-,” he stopped himself. “He got together with a guy he gets on with real well an’ they bought a ranch. He’s doin’ fine.”

“And what about you?” the group leader asked him, “are you fine?”

Nathan frowned, because he had no idea what to say.

*

“Here,” Taylor pushed a tall white cup over the table at him, “it’s a latte.”

“It’s got whipped cream on it,” Nathan frowned, “is this a drink or a dessert?”

“Sometimes it’s both,” Taylor shrugged. “I was proud of you in there.”

Nathan nodded without looking up at his friend, and sipped his coffee. In the last half an hour he had spent longer examining the inside of his own skull than he’d ever done before in his entire life. He knew that to blame his father’s attitude and his upbringing for all his problems would be a colossal act of cowardice and escapism, but Nathan was fully aware they certainly hadn’t helped. Just once he had allowed Clem the upper hand, as he thought of it, in their partnership, and he knew if his father ever found out, there would be hell to pay. No one fucked with a Cole, and Nathan had decided early on that being the person who got fucked would always be less of a man. Sitting in the circle, Nathan could not have denied he wanted to think of Clem as being lesser than himself, but he knew now that he wasn’t. He had bought a house and patch of land, started his own business, and supported himself and the man he loved: by every measure Nathan had for what a man was worth, neither Clem, nor Taylor, fell short.

He was the one who was broken, and it was obvious. It hadn’t always been so, because back on the ranch and surrounded by family members holding similar views, it was easy to judge Clem’s partner as being nothing more than a freak aberration, and dismiss him out of hand. But even the boy in the club Nathan had attempted to push himself on had been strong and confident enough to push back, and Nathan was left wondering what damage had been done to Clem which had allowed him to put up with Nathan’s hard attitude for so long. He hated to think it was because he was the only other gay guy in Lockhart, but Nathan knew now that if Clem had been given a choice, their relationship such as it was would probably not have lasted three years.

“Do you think you’ll go back?” Taylor asked him, scooping the whipped cream from his drink with a long spoon.

“Maybe,” Nathan sighed. “I ain’t sure I want to talk about it there. What if I say something’ in front of someone an’ it really upsets them?” he frowned, “I don’t wanna be the cause of another person’s pain.” Nathan glanced up at the man he felt he could confidently call his friend, and found that Taylor was beaming at him. “What?”

“You don’t know how different you sound. It’s a good thing,” Taylor reassured him quickly. “Guys in touch with their emotions are so much sexier.”

“Really?” Nathan arched an eyebrow, “I always… yeah, well.”

“You were always told that being emotional was girly?”

“An’ therefore weak,” Nathan finished, “an’ weak people do not survive on Cole Ranch. My father sees to that.”

“He sounds like a hard person to please,” Taylor sighed. “My mom didn’t take it very well. I came out in high school – which is OK when you live in central Austin – and she didn’t speak to me for six months. I still lived at home, we ate together, I went to school and did my homework, and she let me borrow the car; but she didn’t say one word to me in all that time.” Taylor bit his lip and smiled ruefully, “it’s better between us now; we’re friends. But it ain’t ever gonna be like it was, and she does not want to know things about my life as a gay man.”

“I think if I told my pops I wanted to see a therapist,” Nathan stammered uncharacteristically over the word, “he’d chase me out of the goddamn state.”

“So you want to see someone?”

“Yes,” Nathan admitted to the dregs of his fancy coffee, “I’d rather say I needed help than risk pushin’ away everyone I know. My old friends won’t hang out with me, on account of me an’ Clem an’ Ashlee not all bein’ able to be in the same room.”

“You’re gonna try and talk to him?” Taylor stroked Nathan’s knuckles with the pad of one thumb, and the touch sent chills down Nathan’s spine.

“I’m gonna try ta fuckin’ apologise for bein’ such a dick to him, yeah.” Nathan quickly wrapped Taylor’s fingers in his own, desperate for the other man not to get away, “can I ask ya somethin’?”

“I’ll come with you,” Taylor grinned and replied without pausing. “It’ll be nice to meet your friends.”