I scratch the stubble on my jaw as I watch her from a distance. God, she’s so damn pretty it knocks the wind out of me.
A tight coil of impatience twists in my chest when I see three more people are still in line waiting to check out.
Dammit. This is taking too long.
I glance around, making sure no one has noticed me staring at Birdie before sidestepping to the nearest endcap loaded with livestock manuals. I grab one at random, skimming the pages as I flip through it, my eyes darting up every few seconds.
Normally, I avoid coming here during the midday rush, but I promised Heath I’d meet him in an hour to work through the second round of cattle for their vaccines. The ranch hands do most of the work, but he likes to have an extra set of eyes on them to make sure everything goes smoothly and that the animals are treated right. Even as a large cattle ranch, we do our best to handle them humanely.
Birdie’s not exactly a fan of my family’s ranch since we raise cattle for beef. When she was visiting a while back, one of the cows died during labor. She begged Heath not to raise the calf for meat, saying it was too tragic. When she started crying, he caved and agreed to keep it in the barn for a while. Fast-forward almost two years, and he has a full-grown cow named Petunia. Ever since, he’s been more mindful about how we treat the animals, putting their welfare above convenience or profit.
“Having trouble with the ladies?” I snap my head up to find Ed, the feed store manager, standing beside me. He must have come from the back while I was busy watching Birdie.
“What? No.” My gaze darts between him and the register. “Why would you think that?”
He tilts his head, nodding to the book in my hand. “Unless you’re doing some light reading, it appears you’re struggling to integrate a rooster into your flock.”
I frown, flipping to the front cover:Poultry Mating 101: So, Your Chickens are Getting Busy.
“Uh, no.” I scramble for an explanation. “Just being proactive. Figured it’s best to brush up on rooster etiquette before introducing a new one to the flock.”
“If you need advice, I have got plenty of tips to keep those hens of yours from staging a mutiny,” Ed offers.
I nod absentmindedly, only half listening as my attention is still firmly on Birdie and not on how to negotiate peace among a flock of hormone-crazed hens.
When I don’t answer, Ed eyes my overflowing cart with a furrowed brow. “Your brother told you we agreed to free delivery for the ranch, right?”
“He did,” I answer curtly.
It took Heath a year to convince the store owner that the sheer quantity of orders we place merits it. I should be happy about the chance to make fewer trips to the store—but I’m not. Now I’m forced to find creative excuses every time I want to come in and steal a moment alone with Birdie without looking like a certified stalker.
Ed pulls out a pen and a pad of paper from his back pocket. “How about I take stock of everything you want and have it delivered with Heath’s usual order tomorrow?”
“No thanks,” I say, cutting him off. “It’s already in my cart, so I’ll grab it while I’m here.”
“You sure? It’s no trouble at all.”
It’d be great if he could try to be less helpful right about now.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Positive.”
I’m seconds away from losing my cool when I glance over at the register and find there’s only one guy left in line, and the store appears otherwise empty of customers.
Finally.
“I’ve gotta run, Ed.” I shove the manual into his hands. “Mind putting that back for me? Thanks.”
I turn and push my cart to the front, slipping in behind the last person waiting to check out. I don’t recognize him, which is unusual. He looks around my age, with shoulders like a quarterback and shaggy blonde hair that falls past his cowboy hat.
When Birdie calls him up to the register, a flush creeps into her cheeks. “I can check you out now, sir… I mean, I can ring you up,” she stammers.
He steps forward, setting a wrench and a flannel jacket on the counter.
“Thanks for your patience,” she says softly.
“No problem, sugar. I had a nice view while I waited,” he replies, shooting her a wink.
Birdie bites her lower lip, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’s so starry-eyed over the stranger that she doesn’t even notice me standing behind him.
