Page 5 of While the Sun Shines

“Cooper was in charge of the gas receipt,” Whit says.

He holds out a crumpled slip of paper, and when he smiles, it’s the same grin as Penny’s. Cousins, Drew had learned a couple weeks into ninth grade, when he’d first met them. Back then, Penny had been taller than Drew, at that awkward age before he’d started growing and he was all elbows and knees.

She only comes up to his shoulder now, which she braces one hand against to jump up on the wheel well of the trailer, using Drew for leverage.

“Oh, they are cute as all hell, aren’t they?” she says.

Cooper hops up next to her. “They’re mine. Get your own.”

“They’re technically Drew’s,” Whit says.

“Everything go okay with picking them up?” Drew asks.

“Yeah, once we convinced them to get on the trailer,” Whit says.

“Are they that skittish?” Drew asks. “I wanted to get them out on pasture tonight. We’re low on hay bales until we get that field cut.”

“I’d put them in the barn to let them get settled, but sure, we can move them out,” Whit says.

Drew scratches his fingers through his beard, leaning up to look into the trailer next to Penny and Cooper. The sheep stare back from the far side, a knot of wool and large blinking eyes.

“Well, let’s at least get your truck unhitched,” Drew says.

Penny immediately jumps up on the bumper of Whit’s truck. “You’re welcome, boys. Let an expert take care of this.”

Drew tries to ignore the flex of her calves. Just be friends. Best friends. Best friends with his gorgeous, funny, amazing roommate.

Who has goddamn legs.

“Pie,” he blurts out.

Penny turns, her ponytail dragging along her back. “What?”

“Pies,” he says. “Bake-off. You, me, tonight, to crown the ultimate winner of early summer fruits.”

“I get to be the judge!” Cooper shouts from the other side of the trailer.

There’s a clatter from inside, hooves stamping and sheep hustling into the far corner, away from Cooper’s raised voice.

“Coop,” Whit says, and only a year ago, his words would’ve been laced with frustration, sparking an argument that left them butting heads and bickering for the rest of the evening.

Now, Whit smiles at Cooper, affectionate and warm even as he shakes his head.

“The sheep really won’t want to leave the trailer,” Whit says. “But hey, Coop, shout at them again. We’ll see if the second time’s the charm.”

“They want pie, too,” Cooper says. “Right, ladies? Yeah, you do.”

“We can leave them in the barn if they’re that scared,” Drew says.

“You sure?” Whit asks.

No, he’s not sure, ’cause now they’ll just have to move the sheep out to their pasture in the morning. One more task to fit into the jigsaw puzzle of the rest of his day as he juggles mowing the hay and making cheese.

Though the other choice is forcing the sheep into a strange field on an unfamiliar farm, so Drew’ll just deal with it. Get up earlier than he was already planning to and work later, too.

He grabs a bucket of grain and shakes it, trying to entice them toward the barn, but it doesn’t shift them from the knot they’ve formed at the back of the trailer, eyes wide and nostrils flared as they huff.

“Are they voting no?” Penny sits on the tailgate of the truck, her feet swinging, the late afternoon sun lighting up her dark hair.