Everything about him calls to me.
“I know you aren’t human.” I tilt my head to the left, waiting for him to argue with me. “Or, I know you aren’t fully human. I don’t know what you’re so afraid of. You can’t be afraid of me. This…this…” I become frustrated, waving my arms between us.
“This hot and cold, this push and pull you’re doing, is driving me insane. I’ve known you all of a few days, and I feel like I’ll die if I don’t know everything about you, if I’m not near you, if I don’t…” My breath breaks when I reach out to feel him, my palm landing over his pec. “Touch you. Ever since I’ve met you, I’ve had a need for you. I don’t understand it, Oklahoma, but something tells me you do.”
He looks to the left, away from me. I become greedy, my gaze lingering on the strong muscles of his neck, the tendons protruding, his jaw tensing with frustration.
I don’t know how, but Ifeelhis anger.
He steps away from me, walks around the fire, then bends down, slinging my brother over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Dolphins say hi,” Ruka mumbles, wiping his mouth on Oklahoma’s shirt. “Dolphins.”
I slap a hand over my mouth to hide a laugh.
“Tell them I said hey,” Oklahoma snorts.
“No. You tell them. I’m…I’m…” Ruka snores again, the deep grating chainsaw noise that makes my eye twitch.
Oklahoma raises his brows at me, asking me a silent question.
“He’s always been an odd sleeper. A little talkative. And don’t think this gets you out of telling me the truth.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Oklahoma pats my brother’s back and takes him inside, his boots thudding against the wooden porch.
I’m left alone, a chill wrapping around me. I cross my arms, running my hands up and down to gain some warm friction.
Standing here by myself, I’m in awe of the acres in front of me. A howl from coyotes warns the night. Stars glisten in the sky, the wide-open fields leaving nothing to the imagination.
I’m at home here.
Even with the nose-curling scent of cow and horse manure.
A cluck has me holding my breath, and I slow-spin to the right to see Kevin, the mean fucking chicken that chased me around the fire earlier.
I back away slowly, holding out my hands. “I’m a friend. I come in peace.” I lift two fingers up, a gesture of peace. Kevin spreads his wings, clucking and chirping, taking a step forward with his little flappy feet.
Kevin charges at me, his wings still spread, his neck stretching out as he screams. I turn to run and slam right into a chest.
“Kevin! Enough. Stop terrorizing my guests. Go see Marvin. I don’t want to see or hear you until morning.” Oklahoma shoos Kevin away, forcing the evil beast to back away from me.
He clucks one more time for good measure. I swear, he gives me a dirty look with his beady black eyes.
“Your chicken is a dick.”
“He’s a rooster,” Oklahoma corrects me with a toothy grin. “But he is a menace. It’s why I rescued him. The family that had him had a farm in California. Unfortunately, his home burneddown. The entire farm was eaten by a wildfire. Only a few animals survived, including Kevin.”
“The family was starting over and asked me if I could take the animals. So I loaded up the truck and trailer and drove to California. Kevin was not happy to see me at first,” Oklahoma chuckles, picking up his hat from the chair he set it on earlier. “But then, I saved two donkeys, a mule, a horse, two peacocks, and a pig. Kevin followed the pig, Marvin, into the trailer.”
“You have a pig named Marvin and a chicken?—”
“—Rooster.”
“Named Kevin?”
“They are two peas in a pod. As long as Marvin is around, Kevin will be okay. He doesn’t like people much.”
