Twenty minutes later, Whit pulls off the road and onto a long, one-lane, gravel road. The powder covering the ground goes on for miles, and I wonder if all this land belongs to the cattle owner. It’s insane how much property people own here. It’s the complete opposite back in Desert Creek. Several houses line whole blocks, so close we’re practically on top of one another, and if you have a backyard, it’s big enough for a grill and a swing set, and that’s about it.
I never thought I’d enjoy living in the country. Living shoulder to shoulder with my neighbor never bothered me, but it’s all I’ve ever known. Getting to wake up every morning, sit in the rocking chair on the back porch, and watch the sun rise with a cup of coffee in hand has genuinely become one of my favorite things. Add in Aggie’s fluffy self coming to greet me with her version of bedhead, and it’s perfection. I love it. It makes the idea of going back to Washington and not coming back sound even more dreadful than it already does.
But that would be crazy…right? Leaving everything I’ve ever known—leaving almost all of my family—to move here, somewhere I’ve been for all of two months. Yet somehow, I’ve managed to get more attached to this town than I was attached to any place in Washington my whole life. How is it possible thatsomewhere you’ve never been before now can feel so strongly likehome?
Whit parks the truck in front of a huge weathered red barn, and after he grabs his supply bag, we climb out. The owner of the farm greets us and shows us where to go, but other than that, we don’t see much of him. On the ride over, Whit told me one of the highlands is pregnant, so he’s here to check on her and the baby, as well as the others. My eyes widen as I take them in. There’s five total that I can see, some looking like babies.
“Whit, look at them!” I practically shout and growl at the same time. “They’re so fucking cute and fuzzy, and there’s so many of them!”
He laughs. “They are cute. And they’re such a friendly breed. It’s hard not to like them.”
“You have the coolest job,” I tell Whit as I inch my way closer to one of the smaller ones. A dark auburn-colored calf, so little she doesn’t even have horns yet. I kneel, and even though she’s watching me warily, she lets me pet her before licking the palm of my hand. “Oh, my gosh. I’m in love. I want them all. Can I please take them home?”
Whit chuckles from behind me. “Trust me, the job isn’t always this cute. And I think Mr. Olsen would be pretty upset if you stole all his cattle.”
“I’m sure he’d understand. I’ll even ask real nicely, and say please.”
“Let me know how that works out for you,” he teases.
Whit examines a few of the animals, working in relative silence—something I’ve noticed he does a lot. He doesn’t seem to be one for small talk—while I stay put in highland cow heaven.
“Don’t they get cold out here in the snow?” I ask him once my fingers start to turn stiff from the cold weather. Thankfully, I remembered to shove some gloves into my coat pocket.Suddenly, I want to wrap them up in giant sweaters and shove beanies onto their heads. With horn holes, of course.
“Not really. The cold weather and snow have little effect on them. They’re from the highlands of Scotland, which is cold and windy, and they’re a common breed up north in Alaska and the Scandinavian countries because of this. It’s why they have the fancy-looking bangs. It keeps the wind out of their eyes. They’re quite adaptable animals.”
I nod, not that Whit can see me.
“So, you and Cope, huh?” he asks after a few moments of silence.
Before I even know that I’m doing it, a grin splits my face, and I’m suddenly thankful that my back is toward Whit. “Yeah. It’s new, but I like him.”
“You know, he texted me all pissy that he wasn’t invited today.”
“No, he did not.” I laugh, glancing over my shoulder. “Jealous because I got to see all these cuties and he didn’t, huh?”
Eyebrow arched, he says, “Think it had less to do with the animals, and more to do with you.”
“I doubt that.” I brush him off. “We just saw each other last night.”
“You’d be surprised. I’ve known Cope for a long while,” he murmurs, almost as if to himself. “Never seen him like he is with you.”
Replaying the sentence, I swallow hard. “What do you mean?”
“Smitten,” is all he says, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he gets back to what he was doing.
Smitten.Is Cope smitten with me? Why does that make my stomach flutter like I’m free-falling? I bite back a grin, returning my attention to the baby highland in front of me. “Smitten,” I whisper to her, the smile breaking free. “What about youand your man?” I ask Whit. “How long have you guys been together?”
“Not long. We met right before summer.”
“He’s cute.”
“Yes, he is.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
“You’ve lived here your whole life?” I stand up and make my way over to him, examining what he’s doing.
“Pretty much. Copper Lake is the type of place that you come to and end up never leaving.”
“So, you like living here?”
