Chapter 8
8
Cooper
“TURN RIGHT HERE.” Cooper pointed to the driveway a few yards ahead of them.
“Okay.” Isla dragged the word out, but it was impossible to tell if it was because she was focused on carefully turning the wheel of his truck or because she was wondering what was going on.
“You can park right in front of the house.” He tried to keep his tone neutral, doing his best to hide the bite of excitement creeping into his gut.
Isla’s dark eyes moved over the two-story structure in front of them. “Is this your house?”
He nodded. “Yup.” Keeping as cool as he could, he opened his door and climbed out, rounding the front to join Isla on her side. “Come back here. I’ve got something I want to show you.”
“Is it candy in an unmarked van?” A hint of a smile teased at her lips. “Because I am a little hungry.”
He and Isla’s friendship had built quickly over the past few weeks. They talked over text pretty much every day, and went out driving four or five times a week. In that time, her sense of humor had really started to show. It was a little dry. A little dark. Understated and a tiny bit shy. Just like she was.
And he fucking loved it.
“First of all, I know you well enough to know candy isn’t the best way to get you into an unmarked van.” They reached the small building at the back corner of his house and he opened the door. “It’s cute animals.”
Isla’s mouth dropped open at the sight in front of her. “Are those baby chicks?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just went straight for the clear tub containing the delivery he’d picked up from the post office at four-thirty that morning. “Oh my gosh. They’re so freaking cute.” She started to reach into the makeshift brooder, but stopped, her wide eyes swinging his way. “Can I touch them?”
“Of course.” He moved in beside her, crouching down as she gently ran the tips of her fingers over the fluffy little bodies. “You can pick them up if you want.”
She didn’t hesitate to scoop up the closest one, cuddling its tiny body against the front of her sweatshirt as it chirped. “They’re so small.”
“They ship them pretty much the day they hatch.” He soaked in the sight of her as he explained. Taking in the pure joy on her face. It was worth however big of a pain in the ass these things ended up being.
Isla’s dark brows pinched. “They ship chickens?” Her lips pressed into a frown. “In the mail?”
“All the time.” He reached in and scooped out one of the other members of his new flock. “I could have picked some up at the feed store, but I thought I’d try getting a few different kinds, so I ordered them online from a hatchery.”
Isla looked over the rest of the ten babies scratching around the pine shavings. “I feel like an idiot. I never really thought about there being different kinds of chickens.”
“Don’t feel like an idiot. If you weren’t getting some, there’s no reason you’d know.” He started listing off the breeds he’d selected. “There’s Easter Eggers.” He pointed at the two he thought were most likely those. “They lay blue eggs. There’s Olive Eggers.” Again he identified the two he thought fit their description. “They lay green eggs.”
Isla grabbed one of them, lifting it eye level. “You’re gonna lay colored eggs? That’s fancy.”
“She is.” He settled the chicken he held back with her sisters. “And they’re all hens, so I don’t have to deal with an asshole rooster.”
Isla chewed her lower lip, peering over the babies. “I thought you didn’t want chickens?”
“I didn’t.” He grinned. “But now I’ve got you to help me take care of them, so I figured I might as well have some fresh eggs.”
Isla angled a brow. “That’s awfully presumptuous of you to assume I’ll help take care of these sweet, cute little ladies.”
He laughed because he knew damn well she’d help him. “I guess if you’re not interested…” He pretended to reach for the chickens she held.
Isla swung away. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help. I just said you were presumptuous.”
His smile widened. “Is it still presumptuous if I’m right?”
“Yes.” She added the Olive Egger to the hand holding the other chick, balancing them both in one scooped palm. “But I guess I owe you for all the driving lessons, so?—”
“No.” He shut that thought down hard and fast. “I don’t take you driving so you’ll owe me, Isla.” He tried to soften the statement by adding on, “I do it out of self-preservation, remember? I don’t want to spend all my time pulling you over because Gram-Gram turned you into the worst driver in Moss Creek.” It was a partial truth. A piece of the pie that led him to seek Isla out as often as he did.
The same pie that led him to order a whole fucking flock of specialty chickens because he knew she’d love them.
The more time he spent with Isla, the more time he wanted to spend with her. She was calm and quiet, and created a soft spot in his life where he could relax. Be comfortable.
Isla huffed out a little laugh as she rotated through the chicks, setting down the set she had to pick up two more. “I think she just wanted someone to take her out for coffee that morning and my grandpa wasn’t in town yet, so I was her second best option.”
Even after talking daily for three weeks, Isla still kept most of her cards close to her chest, only letting him peek at her hand here and there. So every time she offered a glimpse into her personal life, he ate that shit up like he was starving. Asked questions that might keep her talking. “I thought he always came into town with her?”
“He used to, but now she’s here a lot more because of Hudson. I get it. Hudson and Evelyn are pretty much all Griselda has family wise since she and Evelyn’s mom had a falling out years ago.” Isla continued moving through the chicks, giving them all little pets and gentle strokes. “But my grandpa has three kids, and they all have kids. They’re all still in New York, so he splits his time a little more evenly than Griselda does.”
“Do you miss your family?” he asked. It was hard not to want to know everything about her. What made her who she was. What was important and what didn’t matter. How she felt about the world and everything in it.
The name of the man who hurt her and where the asshole lived.
He still wasn’t any closer to finding out what exactly happened before Isla came to Moss Creek, but there were enough clues to make an educated guess. And if he ever crossed paths with that prick, the bastard was getting ticketed for any fucking infraction he could make stick.
He might even try to make a few up.
Isla was quiet for a minute. “That’s hard to answer.” She pursed her lips, working them from side to side as she considered. “I love them. They’re nice people.” One of her shoulders lifted and dropped. “I just never felt super close to them. Even before my brother came along, I never fit in with everyone else. Then he was born and I just sort of disappeared into the background.”
He wanted to think that was impossible. That there’s no way Isla could ever go unnoticed. But while he would always see her, it might be easy for other people to look right past her quiet demeanor and shy temperament.
Probably not the ranch hands who circled any pretty woman like vultures, but that was a different sort of issue for him to tackle.
“Not everyone will be your people.” He’d learned that early on when he joined the department. Some of the older officers didn’t like the new guys coming in, and he’d taken it personally at first. It took a while to figure out it wasn’t about him. That some people would like him and some wouldn’t. That being a unit didn’t mean they’d be a family. “And that includes people related to you.”
Isla’s eyes stayed on the chicks in her hand as she said, “It can also include people you sacrifice everything for.”
The burn of anger simmered across his skin, but he didn’t react. Years of practice should have made it easy. He’d faced down countless people who’d pissed him all the way off, and he’d had to act like it was nothing. But keeping his expression and tone neutral required an insane amount of control as he said, “You shouldn’t have to sacrifice anything for anyone.”
Isla lifted her eyes to his, looking skeptical instead of bothered by the conversation. “That’s not true. Everyone has to sacrifice.”
“Not important shit, and not with someone who really cares about you.” Irritation crept into his voice. “If it matters to you, it should matter to someone who values you.”
“Well.” Isla’s brows lifted on a sigh. “You pretty much explained it all then.”
His jaw clenched tight, forcing him to take a deep breath to rein himself in. “If someone—anyone—doesn’t see how amazing you are, then you need to kick their whole ass to the curb because they’re a dumbass piece of shit.”
Isla laughed, the sound surprising him. “Again, you pretty much explained it all.” Her smile held as she urged one of the chicks out of their food dish with a careful swipe of her fingers. “How long will these guys be in this bin?”
Her change of subject wasn’t unexpected. It happened every time they got close to discussing the dipshit in her past.
And the guy was a dipshit. He was more confident of that now than ever.
“I’ll keep them in here for a week or so. Then we can move them into the enclosed part of the coop.” He motioned to the small door that led to the outdoor portion of the space. “When they’ve got most of their feathers, I’ll open that so they can come and go during the day.”
His mother had loved her hens, and his father loved his mother, so the coop was pretty damn nice. The building portion was big enough he could stand upright, and it offered a storage area for extra food and bedding. A hardware cloth partition separated that area from the roosting space, where thick dowel rods ran from one side to the other and nesting boxes were built into the wall. It had been easy enough to give the place a good sweep and a few days to air out before putting down new bedding. Now it was ready for a new flock.
Isla placed the last of the chicks back in the bin, smiling as they all cuddled together for warmth under the glow of the heating lamp. “They’re so freaking cute.” She turned her smile to him, beaming. “I’m going to want to come see them every day, so get ready to be sick of me.”
That didn’t seem possible. “First I have to drive you around, and now you want to come sit in my chicken coop all the time?” He scoffed. “That’s too much.”
Isla’s smile widened at his teasing. “You brought it all on yourself.”
“I did.” He could agree with that. Happily.
“Then you’ll be happy to hear...” She sat back, tucking both knees up toward her chest. “I’m actually going out driving with someone else tomorrow.”
That didn’t actually make him happy. What if they weren’t patient with her? What if they pushed her too hard or didn’t offer enough suggestions to keep her from feeling overwhelmed? “Who?”
Isla rolled her eyes on a sigh. “The Bridge Bitches.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m a little nervous because I’ll be driving Gertrude’s Jeep and I know it’s going to be way different from your truck.”
Finding out who she’d be with didn’t make him feel any better. Actually, it made him feel a little worse. “Why are you driving?”
“Because they asked me to go out with them to The Creekery, but none of them feel comfortable driving after dark.” She chewed her lower lip. “So I guess I’ll be the one doing the driving.”
He wanted to shut it down, but technically the whole thing was legal. Unfortunately. As long as the person in the passenger’s seat was over twenty-one and had a license, they were well within the constraints of the law. So he couldn’t do shit to stop it.
Not that the driving was the part he wanted to stop.
“Have you been to The Creekery before?”
“No.” Isla scrunched her face up. “I’ve actually never gone out with friends like this before.” She pursed her lips, twisting them to the side the way she did when she couldn’t decide whether or not to admit any more. “It’s kind of sad, I know, but better late than never, I guess.”
He didn’t like the idea of Isla being in the meat market that was The Creekery, but he fucking hated her thinking she’d failed in any capacity. “Not everyone is the going out type. There’s nothing wrong with being the kind of person who’d rather stay in.”
He would love it if she’d be the kind of person who stayed in. Specifically tomorrow. And maybe for the next few weeks. Just until the bulk of the temporary ranch hands had cleared out for the season. They weren’t known for being good guys, and their fly-by-night nature meant they’d pack up and leave without a second thought. They came to Moss Creek to get what they wanted—the paycheck that came with seasonal help, and as much tail as they could manage—then they were gone without so much as a ‘thanks for the ride’.
And if one of them pulled that shit with Isla?—
Isla tilted her head to one side, her eyes moving away. “I don’t really know if I’m the going out type or not, but I think I’d like to find out.”
Well. Shit.
“Then that’s what you should do.” He meant it.
Deep down, he meant it. Superficially, though, it made him want to peel his skin off thinking about those asshats at The Creekery coming at her from every side.
It would be too much for her. Isla got overwhelmed without a plan of action—he’d figured that out their first day driving. She liked knowing what was happening and how to navigate it. Hell, the woman had a whole schedule for all the things she did at Grady and Evelyn’s that she stuck to like law. Going out with the Bridge Bitches was a complete unknown, so hearing Isla be so committed to it meant she really did want to go. And he wanted her to have what she wanted. He just also wanted her to be safe and happy and comfortable while she got it.
And he was going to make sure that’s what happened. Because he was her friend. Because Isla was his. And because he’d be damned if he let anyone hurt her ever again.
“So.” He tried—and failed—to simply sound interested instead of like he was hatching a plan. “What time are you and the girls heading out?”