Page 74 of Captivated
Robert smiled. “And now I’ll go have breakfast with Toby.” He tipped his hat at Zeeb, then turned and headed for the path to the house.
Sol joined him. “You and I need to talk.”
He frowned. “Sounds kinda serious. Can it wait until I’ve grabbed some coffee?”
Sol chuckled. “Sure. I’m not going to get between a cowboy and his first dose of caffeine. Bring me some, would you?”
“You got it.” Zeeb gestured to the paddock. “We can talk over by the fence.” Then he went into the bunkhouse.
He had a feeling whatever was coming right at him would be better with coffee inside him.
A minute later, armed with two cups, he ambled over to the paddock railing where Sol watched Paul with Lightning. Zeeb handed over the coffee, then rested his arms on the rail.
“Okay. What’s up?”
Sol said nothing for a moment. He sipped his coffee, staring out at the horizon. Finally he sighed. “I feel bad about yesterday. At the time I felt Robert had the right idea, that Nate needed some alone time.”
“We weren’t to know he’d drive off like that.”
Sol’s brow furrowed. “But it’s my job to recognize the signs, and I blew it.”
“Sol, you’re not makin’ much sense. What signs?”
Sol lapsed into silence, his hands wrapped around his coffee cup. “Do you recall what Dave said yesterday? Before Nate left?”
Zeeb searched his memory. “Something about how that guy’s parents should be ashamed of themselves, that’s all. I wasn’t really listening.”
“Well, I was.” Sol’s eyes glinted. “He mentioned something being cruel, even torture, and how it was banned in some states but not in others. Dave said whatever it was had been banned in Oregon nine years ago, so I went and did a little digging.” The furrows in Sol’s brow deepened. “I haven’t spoken to Dave, but if I were to guess, I’d say he was talking about conversion therapy.”
Zeeb frowned. “I’ve heard about that. Isn’t that where they take kids who might be gay an’ try to pray the gay away?”
“In some cases, that’s all it is.” Sol grimaced. “Unfortunately, there are places where they do a lot more than pray.”
That cold was back, crawling over his skin in an insidious tide.
“You think Nate’s been through something like that?”
“It would explain a lot. Why he’s been in therapy. Why his dad mentioned trauma. Why he finds it difficult to be around people, to trust them.”
“Holy fuck.”
Sol was right. It would explain a great deal.
He nodded. “Which is why I don’t want you to put any pressure on Nate when he gets here. If he wants to talk about it, then fine. Be there for him. Listen to him. Call me if you need backup, providing Nate’s okay with that.”
Zeeb huffed. “Robert’s just said the exact same thing.”
Sol’s shoulders relaxed. “Good to know we’re on the same page.”
“Sol… do I need to know what kinda things go on at these places?” Because right then, the thought of anyone subjecting Nate to abuse or pain made Zeeb’s blood boil.
Those fucking bastards.
Sol shook his head. “Trust me, you’re better off not knowing. I hope I’m wrong, but…” His voice trailed off.
“But you don’t think so, do you?”
Another sigh rolled out of him. “No, I don’t.” He peered closely at Zeeb. “You look tired.”
