Chapter 2
2
Cooper
HE COULDN’T HELP the laugh that broke free. It was too loud and too long and there wasn’t shit he could do to stop it.
Grady’s newly hired helper wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting based on the information he’d been given.
Which was both a good and a bad thing.
He’d heard she was shy and maybe a little too nice for her own good, but the woman standing in front of him, glaring like she was considering taking him out at the kneecaps if he caused any harm to one of the goats who just knocked her on her ass, didn’t look like a pushover.
“I’m not here to hurt your little monsters.” He reached out to pinch a piece of the straw stuck in her dark hair, gently pulling it free. “I’m here to help make sure they live long, happy lives.”
He’d raised goats back in his 4-H days, so he was happy to pitch in when Grady asked for his help with the newly-acquired herd. Hell, he was happy to do anything that kept him from staring at the walls on his days off.
Isla—if he remembered correctly—eyed him with suspicion as they followed Grady back into the goat pen. The animals went straight for her, collecting around her feet as she walked, each one jockeying for a better spot as they tried to get her attention.
“Looks like you’ve got a fan club.” It was obvious she spent a good amount of time out here with them. That they were comfortable with her and used to her presence.
They certainly liked her more than they seemed to like Grady.
Cooper watched as his friend tried corralling them into the corner pen. The little bastards darted away the second Grady got close, racing in circles around the bigger, open area where they spent most of their time. The second Grady got most of them moving in the right direction, a few would break off, bleating at the top of their lungs as they ran and jumped away.
“Why don’t you go stand over there?” Cooper directed Grady to the far corner. “Maybe they’ll run away from you and go where we want them.”
Grady scowled at the bad behavers as he stomped into place, crossing his arms.
Cooper opened the gate to the small pen, holding it wide as he motioned for Isla to pass through. “If you go in, they’ll follow you.”
She didn’t seem thrilled about it, but she did as he suggested. And, as he’d hoped, the little heathens followed their beloved right in.
That was the thing about goats. They genuinely were assholes, but once they found someone they liked, they’d follow them to the ends of the earth. Especially if they had food.
Cooper went into the pen with Isla and the goats, closing them all in. Since the animals didn’t seem to like Grady, he left his friend where he was. He’d be no help and would just get them wound up. And since it looked like Isla was going to be the one helping him out, he started explaining the process to her.
He collected the harness he’d draped over the rail when Grady showed him the space earlier, before they’d left to check on one of the horses. “This thing is how we’re going to keep them still so we can do what we need to do. Back when I had goats, we used what they call a milking stand, but these little ones can get out of just about anything.” He held up the blue, flexible sling he’d ordered online. “Except this.”
Ilsa reached out, touching the fabric. “What is it?”
“Technically, it’s a dog grooming hammock.” He reached up to grab the straps Grady installed in preparation for the morning’s task. “But it’s supposed to be perfect for the little guys.”
Isla’s dark brows lifted. “You’ve never used it before?”
“I haven’t had goats in years, and they didn’t have anything like this back then.” He hooked one end of the harness into place. “I wish they did, because trying to keep them still for this is a pain in the ass.” He finished setting up and turned to where she stood. “You pick who goes first.”
Isla’s lower lip pushed out. “I don’t want to pick who’ll be the first to get stabbed.”
“They won’t even feel the shot.” Cooper grabbed the goat closest to him, hefting it into the harness before hooking the other side in place and cranking it into the air. “They can’t even really feel the hoof trimming either. Messing with their feet just pisses them off.”
He looked up to find Grady ready with the first injection. Taking the loaded syringe, he popped off the cap and turned to the goat dangling from the rafter. “This one goes just under the skin, so it’s a pretty easy injection to give.” He continued explaining the process, hoping it would help Isla feel a little more comfortable with what had to happen. “All you have to do is pinch a little bit of the loose skin around their neck, hold it out and slide the needle in.” He did it as he talked and—thank fuck—the goat barely reacted at all.
Isla’s dark eyes followed his every move, soaking up everything he said and did as he moved on to trimming the goat’s hooves.
“Trimming them up on a regular basis is gonna be real important. Not just because it’ll keep them healthy, but also because it’ll make it harder for them to trample you to death the next time they knock you down.”
He lifted his eyes from the task to find a hint of a smile teasing Isla’s lips. Her shoulders were a little more relaxed, and the murderous glint in her eyes was fading. He took that as a good sign and kept going, talking her through the process.
“First thing you do is clip down the hoof wall.” He worked his way along the side, snipping away any overgrowth. “Then you can trim down the toe edge if there’s too much there, but this one looks pretty good.” He kept working, enjoying the process as much as he did when he was a kid. “You just want to make sure it’s nice and flat for him.” He pointed at a tiny speck. “And if you see a little pink, be careful. That’s the blood supply. It won’t hurt them if you nick it, but it’ll be messy.”
He repeated the process on the next hoof, explaining each step again.
Then, he held the trimmers out to Isla. “Your turn.”
Her eyes jumped to his face, going wide. “I don’t think…”
“Why not?” He moved the trimmers closer to her. “Give it a try. If you don’t want to do any more, you don’t have to.”
It was evident Isla loved the little buggers and thinking they might be in pain bothered her. Maybe it would make her feel better—more in control—if she could help take care of them.
Slowly, she reached out and took the trimmers, positioning them in her hand as she moved to grasp one of the small goat’s dangling legs.
The harness was a fucking brilliant invention. It removed the animal’s ability to put up much of a fight, so Isla was able to easily get the hoof into position. She lined the cutting blades up along the growth, but instead of cutting, she looked up at him. “Here?”
“That’s perfect.” He stepped closer, keeping one hand on the goat so it didn’t sway as she worked. “Just trim right up that side.
She squeezed, her face scrunching up as she made the first snip, evidence she still wasn’t confident the process was painless. Her eyes bounced from the goat to him then back to the hoof as she inched along, carefully, but perfectly executing the cut. Once the overgrowth was gone, she let out a breath, her shoulders relaxing the smallest bit.
“Fantastic job.” He smiled, proud of her for tackling the task. “It’s like you were born to trim goat hooves.”
Isla’s head fell back as she started laughing, the sound filling the space. “My mother will be so proud.”
“She should be.” He watched as she went back to work, methodically working up the opposite side of the hoof. “Not everyone has enough patience to do this well.” He lowered his voice, knowing full well Grady would still hear. “There’s a reason I’m here.”
Isla laughed again, this time softer, as she continued working. “In that case, I’m glad Grady called you.” She finished the hoof, peeking up at him through her lashes. “Done?”
“Done.” Cooper stepped back, giving her a little space. “You want to finish that up while I get our next shot ready?”
Isla nodded as she moved to the final hoof on their current victim. “Okay.”
“I guess if you two don’t need my help, I might go check on Evelyn and Hudson.” Grady passed over the vials of medication and the pack of syringes, flashing Isla a grin. “Take your time out here.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”
Grady’s eyes widened. “That’s not what I meant.” He shook his head a little aggressively. “I was gonna take a nap too.”
“Sure you were.” Cooper couldn’t stop himself from making the jab. “Whatever you say.”
“I was.” Grady got louder as he backed away. “It’s the middle of the day.”
Cooper raised a brow. “I don’t know if you know this?—”
Grady stabbed an accusing finger his way. “Shut your mouth before I can never look Isla in the eye again.”
Isla leaned to peek at Grady around the dangling goat she was working on. Her expression was deadpan, but there was a hint of orneriness in her eye. “Are you insinuating I didn’t already know it was possible to have sex in the middle of the day? Because I did.”
Grady’s pointing finger swung between them, like he couldn’t figure out which one of them deserved it more. “You two dirty birds can kiss my ass.”
Cooper looked at Isla. “Did he just call us dirty birds?”
She nodded, her focus back on the hoof she was finishing up. “I think he’s been hanging out with Gram-Gram too much.”
“I hope that goat shits on your boots.” Grady paused, amending his statement. “Not you, Isla.” He still had his finger going and it came Cooper’s way. “Just him.” He turned and stormed toward the door.
“Hey, Grady.” Isla leaned to peek at him again. “Leave a sock on the door if you don’t want me to come in yet.”
Grady’s mouth dropped open. “I take it back. I hope that goat shits on your shoes too.”
Isla snorted as Grady stomped out of the barn, her mouth tipped into a little smile. “I don’t think he found us funny.”
“He did.” Cooper slowly lowered the finished goat, scooping it out of the harness before depositing it on the other side of the fence. “I think you just caught him off guard.” He looked her over. “You had him fooled into thinking you were sweet.”
Now it was Isla’s turn to look offended. “I am sweet.”
“I don’t know about that.” He positioned the next goat into the harness and cranked it up into the air. “You’re out here cutting the toes off baby goats.”
Isla scoffed as she planted one hand on his shoulder and gave it a shove. “You jerk.”
He chuckled as he pulled out the next syringe, carefully loading it with the appropriate amount of medication from the vial. “And now you’re about to stab one.” He capped the needle and handed it to her. “Grab some neck skin.”
Isla’s face went a little pale. “You want me to do that too?”
“Of course.” Based on what he’d seen, it was possible one day Isla might want a little pack of her own horned heathens. Being comfortable with everything that involved would be beneficial. “Then next time you can be the one to help Grady.”
Isla’s dark eyes followed the path his friend took out of the barn. “You mean next time I can do it by myself?” She wrinkled her nose. “That came out wrong.” She gave the syringe an uneasy look before finally reaching out to take it. “I didn’t mean Grady wouldn’t help.”
“I know that.” Cooper stabilized the dangling goat as Isla turned to its head, intently focused on the skin around its neck. “He would obviously help.” He flashed her a smile. “He just won’t be very good at it since the goats hate him.”
“Hate is a strong word.” Isla dragged the well-known phrase out, her expression pinching in a way that made him wonder if maybe she was more familiar with the sentiment than he would have guessed. She seemed too easygoing and sweet—even though he’d teased her otherwise—to hate much of anyone.
But a person didn’t move across the country for no reason.
“They just don’t prefer his presence.” Isla took a deep breath, blowing it out as she slid the needle into place. “But they might not enjoy mine either after this is all over.”
“Nah.” He took the syringe when she was finished, dropping it into the sharps box. “They won’t hold it against you.”
Her lips pressed into a frown as she rubbed the spot she’d injected. “I hope not.” She lifted her eyes to his face but they quickly darted away. “Thank you for teaching me how to do this.”
“It’s not a problem.” He handed over the trimmers. “Did you imagine you’d be scraping manure off goat hooves when you moved here?”
Isla snorted. “No. Not at all.” Her mouth curved in a shy little smile as she worked, unbothered by the shit or the animal or the task. “But I don’t mind it.” She tipped her head. “I kind of like it, actually.”
When Grady told him they’d hired a girl from New York to be an extra set of hands, he’d questioned how well that would work out. Not just for Grady and Evelyn, but also for the girl. Life in Moss Creek was about as different from being in a big city as it got. Not just the dirty work that came with running a ranch, but also the dynamics of living in a small town. Everyone knew everyone.
And all their business.
But he hadn’t heard much about Isla around town. Definitely hadn’t heard she wasn’t a girl at all, but a grown woman. That could only mean one thing—Someone was protecting her.
And he could narrow down the list of suspects real quick. No doubt it was Moss Creek’s resident geriatric girl gang who’d pulled Isla into their fold and tucked her beneath their wings.
He couldn’t blame them. While Isla was grown, there was a sweetness about her. A softness that could make a person want to shield her. Keep anyone from taking advantage. From crushing someone so gentle.
Then again, they’d probably never seen her when she believed her beloved goats were in danger. She didn’t yell or scream or make threats, but there wasn’t a doubt in his mind she would have caused one hell of a dust up if he and Grady hurt one of the little peckers. And if his suspicions were right, she’d have a whole team of problematic women backing her up.
And damned if that didn’t have him smiling.