Page 36 of Cattle Stop

Works hard, Whit had said to Cheryl on the phone yesterday. Maybe Whit’ll call her back and let her know he’s revising his esteemed opinion.

“I’ve got that thing with Brad tonight,” he calls after Whit, who heads toward the truck. But Whit just walks faster and Cooper groans and jogs after him. “Weren’t you being nice to me for like thirty seconds yesterday?”

Whit unlatches the back of the truck and hops up onto the tailgate.

“C’mon, don’t you have some hot date to be getting to tonight?” Cooper asks. “Is putting up fencing really your plan for your Saturday? Or is someone special heading over to spend a romantic evening setting up a cow pasture with you?”

Whit reaches into the bed of the truck and picks up a spool of fencing.

“Lucky guy,” Cooper mutters and follows behind Whit with an armful of fence posts.

By the time they finally finish, Drew must’ve already showered, because the water runs cold before Cooper’s even rinsed his hair. He shuts the water off as quickly as he can, shivering and reaching for his towel.

“The water’s fucking freezing,” he announces as he elbows open the bathroom door, toweling off his face. Then he jumps back a foot and jerks the towel down in front of his crotch. “Jesus. Sorry.”

“No, I’m—” Penny holds up both hands, her eyes snapping up to the ceiling. It looks like she’d had a hand resting on Whit’s knee, where they’re sitting cross-legged on his bed. Quickly, she stands up. “Sorry, Coop.”

“No, no, I’m sorry, shit.” He carefully holds his towel in front of himself and grabs a pair of boxers out of his duffle bag. Well, this is cool. Now at least Penny has some context for more of Whit’s complaints about him, beyond what Whit probably already listed while Cooper shivered in the shower. Leaves clothes everywhere, uses the last of the hot water, and for all Cooper knows, talks in his sleep, too. Whit can top the list off with “walks around naked,” which Whit clearly hates because it makes the corner of his jaw flex each and every time.

Cooper ducks back into the bathroom to pull on his boxers, toweling off his hair and settling it into some semblance of tidiness. Probably, he should shave. He rubs his palm over his rough chin, and then shrugs and lays his towel over his shoulder. It’s just Brad. Plus, he’ll have to then scrub the sink clean or hear it from Whit if he leaves even a speck of hair behind.

“Say something,” Penny says softly as Cooper opens the bathroom door again.

“Say what?” Cooper tosses his towel over the doorknob.

There’s exactly one hook in the bathroom, and he hasn’t bothered to ask Whit if he’d actually share it. They could take turns, maybe. Come up with a schedule where Cooper could use the hook on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and alternating Sundays. Though if they’re going to do that, they should just paint a line down the middle of the room, too, so Whit’s not toeing at clothes that migrate too close to his bed.

“Nothing. She’s leaving,” Whit says.

“Pen, you working tonight?” Cooper steps into a pair of jeans and hitches them up to his waist.

“Drew’s burning one of the brush piles in the west fields. I’m going to give him a hand. My big Saturday night off.”

“You’re doing it for the s’mores?” Cooper asks.

“Yep, I’m doing it for the s’mores.” She grabs Whit’s elbow and jostles it, giving Whit a hard look. “I’m serious. Dile cómo te sientes1.”

Cooper pulls on a gray T-shirt. “If you guys are still burning it when I’m back, I’ll come out.”

“We will be, I’m sure.” Penny doesn’t take her hand off Whit, though she does give Cooper a once-over. “You’re wearing that?”

“Yes?” Cooper looks down at himself and plucks at the hem of his shirt where it falls past his stomach.

“Really?”

“I think so?” Cooper holds his arms out and examines his shirt. It’s from his clean pile of clothes, as opposed to his somewhat clean pile, somewhat dirty, and definitely dirty. “Am I not?”

“You’re going out to dinner,” Penny says.

“Yeah, with Brad.”

“Cooper…”

“What? I’m clean, I’m dressed.”

Penny touches two fingers to her forehead. “You know what, I don’t want to get in the middle of this.”

“What’s wrong with my shirt?” Cooper kicks at his duffle, but there’s not anything else in there that isn’t just more of the same. “Do I need a different shirt? Whit, can I borrow a shirt?”