Page 55 of Cattle Stop

He tips his head back and blows out a breath. His crush on Whit sits at the edges of his thoughts, all consuming.

“Coop?” Penny asks.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

I’m on it, he texts back to Drew.

He’s got to get his shit together. And then he’ll leave. See? he would ask if Whit were there. He can make a goddamn plan. One that doesn’t involve hanging out with Whit all day and giving into that infatuation that’s plagued him for so long.

Fuck, he thinks again. He swallows another drink of coffee, like the heat will help cauterize the soreness of the scab that gets picked away every time he spends too long with Whit, when he shouldn’t have messed with that old wound in the first place.

Chapter Ten

As the sun peaks overhead, Cooper sets the gate against the fence post and closes it behind the last of the cows. “It’s always greener, isn’t it, ladies?” There’s no Whit there to roll his eyes. Good, Cooper makes himself think. “At least you all appreciate my jokes.”

Something hits his arm. A nose. A cow’s nose. Buttercup butts him again, and finding Cooper lacking a bottle, prances away, tail swishing and head tossed up in the sunshine. Ah, the carefree life of a calf on a sunny summer day. Maybe Cooper should sprawl out on a pillow of grass and spend the rest of his early afternoon lolling in the sunshine, blowing on puffy dandelions, and braiding a flower crown of clover for Sadie.

Though, no, because Whit’s got this place set up like he’s determined to drive Cooper nuts, even when he’s off getting his hand stitched up. It took the entire damn morning and now into what should be lunch to feed the herd, get them milked, and send them back out on pasture. That’s just like Whit, to struggle through chores every day instead of ever looking around at the farm and having the bright idea that what he’s been doing all these years isn’t actually working. Cooper squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on that old, well-worn annoyance. He’s still got the pigs to feed. Scoops and buckets, he hears in Whit’s voice, and he grinds the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning out loud at how his stomach pitches at the memory of Whit’s low, deep voice.

And fuck. There’s the man himself, standing across the field. And probably sure as shit examining the cattle stop that’s replaced the gate. Working up an argument too, ’cause that’d be just like Whit.

Yet more reasons for Cooper to not cartwheel down the waiting chasm of his embarrassing crush.

“Thought you were at the hospital,” Cooper calls when he’s close enough.

The bandage on the hand Whit holds up is a bright white, wrapped from his knuckles down to his wrist. “Just got back.”

“Too bad, guess they didn’t get my request in time to suture up your mouth too.”

“Shame.”

Cooper’s struck by the sudden urge to laugh. He presses his jaw tight, because then, where would he be, but stupidly grinning in the middle of the damn field?

“I moved the hens,” Cooper says, “so don’t go sounding the alarm if you spot them in a different field.”

There, that’s better. Business as usual, his voice cool, like he doesn’t want to rest his hand on Whit’s arm and bat his fucking eyelashes at him.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“Yeah, but you were gone, so who was going to stop me? Next up, I’m finally fixing that damn spigot.”

“You’ve been here weeks. I can’t believe it’s taken you so long to begin with.”

“Just working up to the good stuff.”

“Why are you always trying to change things?” Whit asks.

You were the one who went and changed everything, Cooper wants to blurt out. How fucking embarrassing, when Whit’s talking about the farm, and Cooper wants to hold hands and stroll on a goddamn beach together.

Cooper lifts his hat and rifles his fingers through his sweaty hair. Focus. Farming. Whit’s an asshole. Cooper got over him once and he can do it again.

“There’s a lot of good ideas out there,” he says. “I know this will shock you, but other farms do things differently.”

“Obviously.”

“No, not obviously. I mean, yes but—you should see some of the places I’ve worked. Drew would have to hire five people to do the amount of work one person could finish in a day. Automatic waterers, fencing systems that don’t have you trekking all over the farm, the pigs out in the pastures, and the chickens after them, and with all that manure, the grass regrows so quick that the cows can be back on it much sooner.”

Whit sniffs. “I know what rotational grazing is.”