Page 57 of Cattle Stop

“No, to play croquet.” Keep it normal, Cooper thinks. “Yes, to graze, you goddamn genius. It’s gonna cut down on the grain bill. And I want to figure out how to give the pigs whey to eat out here in the field, too. A whey way, if you will. More milk, more pork, more money, less work.”

“A whey way,” Whit murmurs, his mouth pursing.

It’s too much to look at Whit, at the shadows of his cheekbones in the brightness of the afternoon light, the cast of stubble on his face. He didn’t shave this morning, Cooper’s suddenly sure. That must be a first for Whit. Cooper points at the corner of the field, trying to keep himself staring at the stone wall that leads along the edge of the forest and not at Whit, who’s close enough to touch.

“We can put a water tank up at the top of the hill,” Cooper says. “We’ll lay out a couple hundred feet of piping and set out a bigger trough, save all that time schlepping water around. We also need to get a lane set up.”

“Now you’re building roads?”

“Just a path for the cows to use to get back to the barn for milking so you don’t have to chase them across the fields.”

“They know the way,” Whit says.

“Well, if you set it up right and put the gate on a timer, you could have the herd walk themselves to the barn every morning and evening without you needing to go out there. They can even put themselves back out on pasture. You could be getting something else done in the meantime. May I suggest the spigot?”

“What about when it rains? They won’t want to leave the barn.”

“Cow umbrellas. And galoshes.”

“Cooper.”

“Okay, okay, inclement weather, and sure, they need some encouragement, but just ’cause it doesn’t work perfectly doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.”

Whit blinks once, slowly, those long lashes fanning over his cheek. “The farm is huge. Setting up a fence along all of the pastures will take a good while.”

“Well, invest the time now, and get it back tenfold once you’re done.”

“If it doesn’t work?”

Cooper shrugs. “It will.”

Whit’s shoulders draw up. “Do you ever worry about anything?”

Yes, that I’m going to embarrass myself confessing my love the next time you glare at one of my wayward socks on your damn floor. “Nah, seems like a waste of time.”

Whit holds up his bandaged hand. “I really can’t do much to help.”

“Look, I know this will surprise you, but I do actually know how to farm.”

Whit puts his other hand on his hip. He’s going to argue. Insist they go find Drew and get permission. Dig his heels in and simply refuse. Though, instead, he nudges the cattle stop again with his toe and says, “I’ll go get the trailer to bring the pigs over.”

“Yeah? Really?”

“And I think we have some pipe lying around that we can use for the water, but I’d have to look for it.”

“So you think this is a good idea?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“C’mon, throw me a bone.”

“Or, if you want to hunt down the pipe, I can get evening milking set up. I was going to head out to give Penny a hand after that.”

Work a shift, Whit doesn’t say, though Cooper hears it all the same. Right, because if Cooper’s here, Drew certainly can’t pay Whit any more. Whit kicks a tuft of grass toward him, one Cooper tore up with the tractor just the other day.

“Now’s where you say I’m never that helpful anyway,” Whit says.

“What? Oh, yeah, that. Right, get the hell out of here and quit bothering me.”