Page 51 of Cattle Stop

But Whit just squints past Cooper’s shoulder, his eyes fixed on the forest.

Cooper turns to look, but there’s no herd of cows staring back at them, just the trees, leaves, and roots.

“They’re moving,” Whit says, his voice flat.

“The…cows?”

“My folks. Don’t tell Drew.”

“Don’t tell Drew what?”

“Travis, Caroline’s son, helped sell their house back in March. They’re closing soon and are moving to an apartment in Albany. And Drew doesn’t…I haven’t told him.”

“Okay.” Cooper lifts his hat off his head and scratches his hair. Already, it’s damp with sweat. “Are they okay?”

“They’re old.”

“Most parents are.”

“They’re older than—they had me when they were already old.” Whit pulls in a breath. “And this winter was a lot for them.”

“Why haven’t you told Drew?”

“He’d…” Whit shakes his head. “You’re right, the cows probably circled back at some point. We should check the south fields.”

“He’d what?”

“I just—I don’t want him to worry.”

“Why would he worry?”

Whit pushes on into the woods. “He won’t. Never mind.”

Cooper catches a branch that snaps backward with his forearm and chases after Whit. “You’re a real shitty liar.”

“I really think we should check the fields.”

“How about you tell me, and then I won’t have to get it out of Penny?” Cooper pushes through a shrubby bush and then pauses, his head cocked. “Are you—are you moving, too?”

“It’s none of your business,” Whit says, his voice hard, a coolness to it that replaces whatever soft trace of vulnerability had crept in.

“You are? You’re moving to Albany too? Even if the farm’s okay, you’re—”

“No.”

“But you’re thinking about it?”

“I told you I’m not.”

“But—”

“Stop,” Whit says.

Stop, Whit had said last night and crossed to the bed.

“Fine.” Cooper hops over a log and keeps his head down, fighting the blood that rushes to his face. Rushes other places too, though at least he’s in jeans, not running shorts like Whit is.

This’ll pass. Cooper’s anxiety, stirred up on a morning hangover, a search for the cows, and played out in spiraling ideas of the farm’s murky future. Whit’s peevishness will blow over, too. Eventually. They’ll go back to some sort of normal, all of this forgotten. They did once, tacit in their silent agreement to never mention kissing all those years ago. Cooper blows out a long sigh.