Page 94 of Cattle Stop

“So,” Cooper says. He licks his lips. “I’m not…I’m not sure I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” Drew says. “What?”

“This summer, I don’t know. It just happened.”

“I don’t want the details.” Drew’s quiet again, and then says, “Okay, I do want the details.”

“It was just—” Cooper flaps his hand at the window. “It got, um, weird between us at the end, and it wasn’t ever really a thing. So.”

“So?”

“So that’s that, and I don’t really know about coming back east again anytime soon.”

“You two slept together?”

“Yeah.” Cooper wipes his palm down his thigh. “We did.”

“And now you’re not coming back?” Drew asks.

Cooper’s cheeks burn. No, he can’t go back. Whit would likely string him up for telling Drew in the first place. Though it’s not like he can unspill the milk now. Beans. Whatever. Whatever Whit wanted over the summer, it clearly evaporated as quickly as it had come. A couple rolls in the hay, he thinks and tries to smile like Drew would.

He closes his palm over his eyes and out of his mouth tumbles, “I kind of have a thing for him.”

“You do?”

“Whit doesn’t obviously—um—care. Or want that—anything, I mean. So I think I’m going to stick around here for a while. And—and you’ll find someone to take the job, someone great, I’m sure.”

“You slept with Whit? You like him?”

“I should probably go. I think some of the goats are out.”

“Whit? Our Whit?” Drew asks.

Drew’s Whit, maybe. Some other guy’s someday. Not Cooper’s.

“Bye,” Cooper says. “Hey, good to talk to you.”

“Whit?” Drew asks again and Cooper hangs up, pulling in a breath and holding it. He lets it out in a burst. Then, he leans forward, his elbow on his thigh and his forehead pressed to the heel of his hand.

Behind him, the teakettle whistles.

“Sorry,” Kathy calls to him.

“Yeah, no, sorry, I was just—”

Carefully, Cooper replaces the phone in its cradle. He feels shaky. It’s fine. It’s done. Drew knows, and he also knows Cooper won’t be back for another season. Cooper’ll find something else after his contract here is up, and maybe someday, he’ll be in upstate New York again. He can stop by. See the old stomping grounds. And this thing he’s got for Whit will have faded. Blown on by like a pesky storm cloud, dumping rain at the exact wrong time. He got over Whit once, all those years ago, and he will again.

“How’s your friend?” Kathy asks.

“Oh, he’s good, um, calling to say hi.” Cooper rubs his hand down the front of his shirt. “I can stay through the holidays. I know you’re looking for someone to keep an eye on the place and I—”

“Are you all right, dear?” Cheryl asks.

“Course.”

“You don’t look all right.”

“No, I’m fine, I’m—yeah.”