Page 29 of Cattle Stop

He shuts his eyes for a long moment. He’s tired and cranky, and he really does need dinner. And now Whit’s still sitting there, probably pissed off all over again at the dirt Cooper’s tracked in here. Cooper can nearly feel his eyes on his bare chest. He clears his throat and yanks his towel off the footboard of his bed. “I’m going to shower.”

“Cooper…”

“I told you, I don’t want to argue.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Whit’s voice sounds softer than Cooper might’ve expected, or maybe that’s just the door closing between them and the drum of the shower as he turns it on.

Chapter Six

Cooper’s boots are wet. And his pants. He stamps his feet at the door of the barn like it’ll make a lick of difference. All it does is stick the canvas of his work pants to his legs. He wiggles his toes, and yep, the mud he just walked through has soaked clear through to his socks.

“You’re a ray of sunshine this afternoon,” Penny says from her perch on top of the cows’ fence. In front of her, a calf stands braced on all four legs, its head tipped up and its throat working as it drinks from the bottle in her hands. “Did you sneak in those cattle stops that you’re pretending to hide in the back of your truck?”

“Nah, I’m saving that for the crowning glory of the week, and I’m gonna make Whit help me install them as a special present.” Cooper bends down and smacks at the cuffs of his pants. That doesn’t make a difference either, just gets his hands wet. “I need more socks. Or for the damn farm to dry out.”

Penny tips the bottle up higher. “Ah, the joys of spring. Bugs, mud, and more bugs. Come feed a calf, it does wonders for the mood.”

“Does that one actually need a bottle or is Drew just doing you a favor?” Cooper leans across the fence and lifts the calf’s ear, checking its tag number. “Knew it.”

“Buttercup and I are best bros, so get out of here with that attitude, mister. Drew—the walking, talking grump—just came through, and we’re trying to recover.”

“Buttercup’s a boy.”

Penny rolls her eyes. “Which is why I said bros.”

The calf sucks the bottle dry and finally releases it. Cooper gives him a scratch under the chin. “Drew’s around?”

“He’s in with his cheese. But I’d give him a minute.”

“It’s not going well in there?” Cooper leans against the fence, his shoulder even with Penny’s hip. It’s cooler in the barn than outside, the sun already shining a sharp blaze into his eyes. “I wanted to let him know that the grass is up enough in the back field to let the cows start grazing.”

“That’ll make him happier than the ricotta.”

“Oh, is he making that?” Cooper looks up at her. She’s got her hair in a knot at the back of her head and is wearing an old T-shirt with a couple drops of milk staining the hem. “Pizza night soon? Yes?”

“Clean the grill? Yes?” Penny parrots back. “It’s gross as anything, Coop.”

She pats the top of Cooper’s head, and Cooper pushes into her hand. “That feels good. Buttercup, clean the grill.”

“Buttercup thinks that those who let the cheese from burgers they cooked last fall drip all over the grill should clean it themselves.”

Cooper leans farther into her and she sighs, petting at his hair. It does feel good, her fingers scratching against his scalp like that. Penny’s got a nice touch. Drew isn’t crazy to be more than halfway in love with her.

“It burns off,” he says.

“Gross.”

She lightly runs her nails against the back of his head, and he lets his eyes shut.

“I like your hair long like this. It looks good.”

“I need a haircut.”

“Don’t,” Penny says. “Grow it out and I’ll braid it.”

“Only if you do Buttercup’s too.” Cooper rolls his head to the side, butting his forehead against her leg. “What’s wrong with the ricotta?”

“There’s too much of it to sell before it goes bad. And I quote, ‘Fucking fresh cheese something, something, fuck, fuck, fuck.’”