Page 39 of Cattle Stop

“I probably need another minute,” Brad says.

Cooper glances up. The menu’s not that big, it’s not like there’s that much to choose from. And Drew’s probably gotten that burn pile going by now. It’d be nice to be back at the farm in time to enjoy the rest of the evening.

He opens his mouth to say that, then shuts it again. He’s not entirely sure he wants Brad to know they’re all hanging out later. Which is a real asshole thing to do but…no, it’s better that he keeps quiet, rather than have Brad show up and give Drew a look at farm-free life. And besides, Whit’s already in a pissy mood, and as fun as it is to annoy him, Cooper gets plenty of Whit’s special brand of irritation sharing a room with him.

If Whit’s even there. If he’s not out with some guy at a restaurant like this one, a conversation sparking up between him and his handsome date who smiles right back at him. Cooper blinks, that image suddenly too sharp.

“Ever think about getting out of farming?”

“Oh. No.” Cooper shakes his head quickly enough a lock of hair slips forward from behind his ear, and he has to tuck it back again.

“Think you’ll end up owning a place of your own?”

“Seems like a headache of a commitment.” He’s hungry. He wants to eat and then get going, not do whatever the hell this is. Small talk, in a too-quiet corner of a too-nice restaurant.

“Well, maybe Drew’ll end up using you more around the farm. That Whit guy? He found something else, right? Other than being a farmhand? Bartending?”

“Bartending?” Cooper takes a sip of his beer, eyeing the TV over Brad’s shoulder. “I mean, he works with Penny over the winter sometimes, when the farm slows down.”

“Oh, I thought I saw him at Murry’s the other night.” Brad shrugs and takes hold of his own beer, though he doesn’t drink. Brad’s hands look odd, Cooper decides. He’s too used to the stain of dirt worked in around nail beds and the odd scratch and scrape from a long, hard day’s work. Even Whit, who manages to remember his work gloves most of the time, ends up with banged and bruised knuckles.

“Well, he might’ve been keeping Penny company. So, Drew, he’s got some cheddar too. I gave you some of it? Good stuff.”

“No, I think he was working.” Brad shrugs and there’s his grin again. His cheeks must get tired, constantly smiling like that. Cooper takes another sip and glances at the TV. He’s not going to argue. No, that’d be too much like having Whit with him. Though that might be more fun than slogging through what’s apparently an evening of unending questions.

The cheddar, Cooper wants to start again, but Brad leans farther over the table.

“So wait, Whit’s still just working for Drew, then?”

“It’s Whit. He’s allergic to change.”

“That’s a lot of years to just be a farmhand.”

“Whit? He’s not a farmhand.”

“Oh,” Brad says. “Okay.”

“He’s managing the entire farm side of the operation this year, while Drew does the cheese. He’s like single-handedly running the place.” Straight into the ground, Cooper could add just to be a jerk about it, but it’s not as fun without Whit here to aim that jab at.

“I didn’t think he was, I don’t know, that into it?”

Cooper sets his beer down. “What?”

“Just, that Drew seems to always be cutting his hours. Seems like Whit’s hard to work with, maybe?” Brad holds his hands up. “I don’t know, don’t listen to me, it’s just the impression I got.”

“Whit’s running half that farm. Yeah, maybe he was helping Penny out if you saw him at the bar. He works hard. He’s that type of guy.”

You’re zero fun, Cooper’s said to Whit more than once. Meant it too, and he knows full well if Whit’s not out on a date or with his parents, that means he’s helping Drew out burning the brush pile. He might be there right now, throwing all the heavier branches on himself so Drew doesn’t have to do it.

“Plus,” Cooper says, “we’ve got our herd of pigs and all the laying hens. Drew’s been talking about getting sheep for ages, and the way things are going, Whit’d be in charge of them, too, if that ever happens.”

Which it won’t if the farm doesn’t make it. Cooper frowns down into his beer.

Though if they produced cheese on a bigger scale, they’d have that much more whey, and they could feed it to the pigs. That’d help cut costs and keep their grain bill down. Or, given Whit’s passion for spending all damn day fencing, they could start grazing the pigs on pasture. With what the pigs root up in the fields, the whey, and any extra milk, they wouldn’t need much grain at all. “Huh.”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, sorry.” Cooper clears his throat.