Page 54 of Cattle Stop

“We’re about to cut it for hay.”

“You need stitches. A lot of them. And a workers comp form and a little thing called a tetanus booster. Get in the Jeep.”

Whit inhales through his nose. “I’m fine.”

“Oh Lord, I’m not going to argue with you.”

Whit’s eyebrow arches. “That would certainly be a first.”

“Funny.” Cooper gives Whit a push away from the fence.

Cooper parks next to the barn and a cow pokes her head out like she’s been there the whole time. Drew touches her nose as he waves, then stops short at the sight of Whit’s bloody hands held out the window of the Jeep.

“Is this what happens when I leave you two alone for too long?” Drew asks.

No, what happens is the clusterfuck of last night, Cooper doesn’t say. He jumps down from the driver’s seat. “Whit was just being a dummy. I’m surprised he even has any fingers left. I gotta grab my wallet, I’ll take him to the hospital.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Whit says.

“Just gonna wipe it off on Drew’s seats?” Cooper asks.

“Oh wow,” Drew says, leaning through the open driver’s door to get a look at Whit’s hand. “Now, that’s a cut. Coop, I’ll take him.”

“I got it, you have all that cheese.”

“It’s no problem.” Drew glances over his shoulder and catches Cooper’s eye with a smile and a lift of his eyebrows. You don’t want to be stuck with Whit all day, Drew might as well say out loud.

Right. Of course. It’d be a disaster, sitting with Whit in a hospital waiting room for hours on end.

The Jeep rattles off down the driveway in a crunch of gravel. Already, Drew and Whit are talking, silhouetted against the day’s sunshine. Drew laughs and the Jeep turns a corner, and Cooper works his finger into a hole at the bottom of his pocket. From her spot in front of the barn, Sadie yawns and stretches all four legs, then slumps back onto her side. The cows, he reminds himself, and he doesn’t watch the last glimpse of the Jeep or the billow of dust kicked up behind it.

I wanted to go with him. Cooper sucks in a breath as he spins the handle of the spigot, like it’ll force the water to flow any faster. The thought is as crystal clear as the sun streaming in the barn, dust motes playing in the beams like flecks of gold. He wants to spend today with Whit. All that time to hang out together, to chat and squabble, and drink in the lines of Whit’s profile. To hear more about Whit’s parents and chase after that soft note in his voice. That tenderness, that sweetness Whit normally holds at bay around Cooper. It’s always been there, just reserved for Penny and Drew, but now that Cooper’s gotten a taste—

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He stares at the bright square of barnyard through the barn door and pulls a breath in, a burn of want rushing up his throat. Idle hours with nothing much to talk about, no distractions, no work, no Penny and Drew. Just him and Whit and hours to while away—no. No, no, no.

Fucking absurd. It would be a drag to be stuck with Whit today, not any sort of fun. Absolutely awful to spend time with, he should add as the final point to his list, but he feels for that edge of irritation and all that sits there is the soft ache he knew so well in high school. It comes crashing through him now, a soft, delicate part of himself echoing that fragile tenor in Whit’s voice.

Oh no. He doesn’t want to fucking care.

Water dribbles over his boots. From the trough. The cows’ trough is overflowing right onto his feet. He pulls the hose back and fumbles to turn it off.

In the kitchen, he scalds his tongue on too-hot coffee.

“You okay?” Penny asks, tying her hair up in a bun as she comes in. “What was all the shouting?”

“Cows got out.”

“Again?” Penny pours herself a cup of coffee, picks up Cooper’s toast, and bites off the corner.

He shoves the plate toward her. “You can have it.”

“I was just messing with you.”

“I’m not hungry.”

You okay with the farm? Drew texts as Cooper sips at his coffee. Seems like this’ll take a while.

Cooper could text back that he’s leaving. That it’s suddenly, unexpectedly time for him to clear out for Oregon. Be gone by the time Drew and Whit get back. Or at least have his truck packed and go through a quick, cursory round of goodbyes. Except he doesn’t really want to leave. Not with that aching pull Whit yields over him.