Going Au Naturale at Hallow’s Cove (Hallow’s Cove)

5. Brooks

Chapter five

Brooks

We made it to the chicken coop, but my mind was still on what Blake had said. I didn't know why I was being so sensitive. He didn't mean anything by it, and Sydney didn't seem affected, but it still rubbed me the wrong way.

I could hear the clucks of the chickens as we neared. They needed to be fed, and the eggs collected. Normally, someone else would take care of it, but I had changed everyone’s schedule to create the easiest tour possible, so I gave myself all those jobs since I would be here anyway.

"I'm just going to do their feeding and collecting. Do you need anything?" "I'm fine."

I went about my business, looking up to see her observing and taking notes every once in a while. It was like I couldn't keep my eyes off her. I had caught her looking at me earlier while I was putting some of the boards together. It went on for a while, but I couldn't be sure if it was because she was interested in me, or because she had never seen a satyr before.

Though monsters were all over the place, they tended to stay in higher concentrations together, like here in Hallow's Cove. This meant that the humans who came here hadn't had many interactions with one, so her potential curiosity made sense.

Still, I just couldn’t help hoping it was the former.

I scooped the feed into the measuring cup and started pouring the seed around. The chickens all ran to me, ready to eat, which gave me the opportunity to sneak into the coop and grab the eggs they left. There was one chicken in there, being broody over her eggs, and since she almost got my hand when I tried to nudge her, I gave up and let her keep them.

Job done, I took the basket and headed out to Sydney. She was still standing there, but she had swapped the tablet in her hand for a professional-looking camera and was snapping photos of the chickens. She had that same intense gaze she’d given me earlier, but when she pulled back and looked at the photos she took, there was something lighter—almost excited—in her eyes.

I had to look away, not willing to be caught staring.

"Brooks," I heard her call and turned around. "I think this one is in the wrong place." When she turned slightly, I saw Chicken's blue head tilted to the side, looking up at her.

"Oh, that's Chicken," I said.

She looked at Chicken, then back at me. "I know it's the wrong color, but it’s shaped way more like a duck than a chicken.” I couldn't help it; I laughed. A knee-bending, belly laugh. Tears came to my eyes, and my abs hurt by the time I was done.

"What's so funny?" she asked. Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. "Is this some strange kind of chicken I didn’t know about?” I wiped a tear from my eye. "No, that's not a chicken, he’s my pet duck named Chicken. And he’s not the wrong color, he's a harlequin duck." She looked at him again. "You have a pet duck ?"

"More like he has a pet human," I said. "He just claimed me one day and now won't leave. I take him to the other ducks during the day, but it seems that he managed to escape and find us.”

He leaned up against her leg and rubbed. "Can I pet him?" she asked.

"Yeah, he usually likes it." He'd only ever bitten Beau, but that’s because he held the snack he was feeding him a bit too close to his fingers.

She bent down and stuck her hand out tentatively, then patted the top of his head. He ruffled his feathers a bit before pushing back against her touch. It wasn't that he didn't like people, because he was a people duck, but he seemed to really like Sydney.

"He's so cute," she said, standing up and brushing herself off.

"Is that for work?" I asked, pointing to the camera still hanging around her neck.

She turned it away from me slightly, as if keeping a secret.

"Um… No. It's mine. Is it okay if I take photos?" "Take as many as you want," I told her. I wanted to ask her to show them to me, but she didn't seem inclined to do it, and I didn’t want to push.

I went back to cleaning all the coops, and by the time I was wrapping up, it was almost lunchtime.

Sydney was taking a few more notes when I found her, scribbling away at her tablet. "Want to break for lunch?" I asked her. "I was going to head over to Ted's to grab a bite." She looked around. "I'm not sure if I should… I didn't really have lunch plans, and Matilda is still not here." "Well, Ted's is really your only option unless you want a pastry from Cool Beans. And we might as well go together, considering you don't have a car. If she’s at my parents’, we’ll bring her along." She contemplated it for a second. "I guess that's fine," she said, and I couldn’t keep myself from hoping my mom had taken her colleague somewhere.

We headed back to the house where my truck was. I opened the passenger door for her, and she looked at me suspiciously before moving to get in while I went inside.

The kitchen was empty. I wasn’t worried about Matilda—I was sure my parents had taken her somewhere—so I ran to the driver’s side. The engine roared to life, and I began down the dirt path toward town.

“She wasn’t there. Maybe she’s checking something else around the farm?”

"Maybe.” I thought that would annoy her, but she seemed at peace with it. “May I?" she asked, pointing at the radio.

I handed her the cord that was sticking out. "There's no cell service around here, but if you have music downloaded, you can play it." She took it and plugged her phone in.

"Yeah, well, isn't it odd, living without cell service?"

When I glanced at her, she seemed to be scrolling through a playlist. "Not really," I said. "I grew up like this. To have it now might be even stranger." "I guess it is nice. I don't think I remember a time I didn't have it, but it’s nice to have a break. I’m still carrying my phone around, though it’s as good as a paperweight.”

I laughed, agreeing with her assessment. It’s why I never even bothered to buy one. Soon, an upbeat pop song came from the speakers. It was pretty good, though I'd never heard it before.

"Is this okay?" she asked.

"It's perfect." We listened the rest of the way into town until I pulled into Ted's.

The building had been the same my entire life. It was tan on the outside, with a large, slightly worn red sign with Ted’s written in bold letters.

The inside looked exactly the way I assumed every other diner in a small town would, with worn red pleather seats, linoleum floors, and overly aggressive fluorescent lighting.

We were seated in a booth, and Lerana came to take our drink order. I stuck with a sweet iced tea while Sydney asked for a matcha, which they didn't have. So then she decided on an iced black coffee.

"Who doesn't have matcha?" she asked, perusing the laminated fold-out menu.

"Ted's," I responded with a smirk. Though I never picked the same thing every time, I had this menu memorized front to back. Almost anyone who lived in this town did.

Lerana came back with our drinks and Sydney ordered a wrap while I got a turkey burger with fries.

"So, how does a big city girl like you end up with a job in agriculture?" She looked shocked by the question. "How did you end up a farmer?" she asked, turning the question back on me.

"My family has owned that farm for at least four generations," I replied easily. "It was bred into me to own the farm, and I took it over from my father about five years ago." She seemed surprised by my straightforward answer.

"Your turn,” I said with a smirk. Sydney huffed. "It's not that complicated. I went to college, applied to jobs, ended up with this one. I'm normally in the office, but this is our busy season, and they needed all hands on deck. Not very interesting." "I see. Is this the job you wanted?"

"You're asking a lot of questions," she pointed out.

I shrugged, trying to seem inconspicuous. "Just trying to drum up conversation." That was a half-truth. Though I was trying to avoid any awkward silence, I was mostly interested in learning about her.

"Most people stick to the weather," she said, averting her eyes.

I let it go. It was okay. Sydney seemed like a mystery I would enjoy solving, even if it took some time. And to be a farmer, you needed patience. Plants took time to grow, bees took time to produce honey, chickens took time to lay eggs. Everything on the farm had taught me patience was the key to getting anything good in life.

If I had to be patient to learn about Sydney, it would be even sweeter.

Once we were done, I paid, though she argued with me over it the entire time.

"I have money, you know?" she insisted.

"I never said you didn’t.” I said as I filled out the tip at the bottom. "But I asked you out to lunch, so it’s my treat." It dawned on me what I said made it sound like a date, and while that would be nice, I also knew that wasn't what this was.

Yet.

She mumbled her thanks as we walked back to the truck, and the ride home was quiet save for that upbeat pop music I actually quite enjoyed.

When we got to the house, Matilda was on the front porch, sipping tea with my grandfather. I was shocked, to say the least. They seemed amicable, which was unexpected. He had been so fervently against having the auditors here, but here he was, smiling and sipping from his mug as they chatted.

"Who's that?" Sydney asked, looking at the two.

"My grandfather." She hopped out of the truck, looking just as unsure as I felt, and I followed suit.

"Brooks," my grandfather called in greeting.

"Hey, Gramps, what's going on?" His smile was strangely charming. "Just chatting with our lovely auditor here. She is a gem." Matilda giggled slightly. Were they flirting? I didn't even want to think about it.

"We should continue," Sydney said, seeming unconcerned about her co-worker relaxing on the job.

“We can go to the next barn, but it’s further away, so let’s step back into the truck.”

Matilda made no move to follow. Sydney didn’t comment, so I kept my mouth shut too.

As soon as we pulled up, Sydney got out and started doing her thing, taking photos and notes. The chores had already been done for the morning there, so I did some tidying, but there was nothing to do but follow Sydney around.

I asked her questions—her favorite color, foods she liked, things like that—keeping it very surface level so she wouldn’t go defensive on me again while still allowing me to get to know her.

She answered every one and asked some in return. I was sure she was doing it to be polite, but it still made my tail wiggle a bit every time.

This barn was much larger than the one before, so by the time she was done, the sun was setting, and she was ready to go back to the inn.

We returned to my parents and Matilda was there this time, regaling us with tales of going to the grocery store with my family. Soon we were headed back to the inn, Matilda once again in the middle, her purse tucked into her lap.

Though she was plenty pleasant, if I was honest, I hated that it wasn’t just Sydney and I.

And I hated saying goodbye for the night even more.