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“Ah, shoot.” Drew made an exaggerated finger-snapping motion. “I went and left their little crystal goblets in the house. You wanna run back in and get ’em? Make sure you ask my dad to tell you where they are.”
“Jerk.” Maisie didn’t even bother to hide her grin.
Drew motioned for Maisie to follow her out of the barn. “Okay, around the corner is what we call bird island.”
“Is it an actual island?”
“Nope, but it’s where we keep all the chickens and ducks.” Drew paused, her lips curling in distaste. “And the damn geese.”
“Are they like the cats? To look cute?”
“Cute?” Drew shook her head. “First off, the cats might be cute, but their job is to rid the place of rodents. As for the birds, do you not know where the eggs in those cartons in the grocery store come from?”
Maisie shot her a look that made Drew chuckle. “I was talking more about the ducks and geese.”
“Actually, duck eggs are good for baking,” Drew explained, deciding to give Maisie a short break from the teasing so as not to risk getting murdered in her sleep tonight. “The geese, well, there’s not much we can do to get rid of the pests, and believe me, I’ve tried. But we sell goose eggs to a local artist who makes sculptures out of the shells. We have one inside. It's carved to look like the lace doilies my grandma used to make. Remind me, and I’ll show you.”
Maisie nodded in the way that made Drew think she was making mental notes, not missing any details. “Sounds like you and the geese don’t get along.”
“Sound is the right word for it.” As they came closer to the bird enclosure, Drew put her hands over her ears and raised her voice. “They’re a bunch of loud bastards, and the whole lot of them squabbles like rival street gangs in an all-bird production ofWestside Story.”
“Was that a theater reference, Ms. Campbell?” Maisie feigned shock. “I’m starting to think you really do have crystal goblets for the barn cats.”
Drew hip-checked Maisie in retaliation without breaking her stride. Both were laughing, and it came as a surprise for Drew to realize her cheeks were starting to ache from it. Working alone, there was rarely much cause to exercise those particular muscles, but ever since Maisie had arrived, they’d been getting a workout.
After walking a bit, Drew pointed to another fenced enclosure. “This is the bull pen. We keep the boys in their bachelor pasture the majority of the year. They don’t do much except eat. But in July, we’ll put them to work.”
“Doing what?”
“What do you think?” Drew waggled her brows. “They’re bulls. As much as it baffles my sensibilities, I’ve never met a cow who identified as part of the LGBTQ+ community.”
It took a second, but Maisie put the pieces together, and her cheeks pinked. “Right. I guess baby cows don’t make themselves.”
“They do not. As you might expect, the females do most of the work growing and raising them, but even if it pains me to say so, the boys do serve a purpose. And our livelihoods depend on it.”
“Is it just animals you raise, or do you grow any crops?”
“The bulk of the income is from cattle, but Cord’s got a green thumb and has been working with Hannah on some gardening, including—”
“What’s that?” Maisie grabbed Drew’s arm and pointed at a red truck with a very distinctive shape.
“Ah, come on now. That one’s too easy a target, even for me.” Drew patted Maisie’s hand. Neither wore gloves due to the pleasant weather, and the sudden touch of bare skin scrambled Drew’s brain for a moment so that she nearly forgot what they’d been talking about. “That’s our fire truck.”
“You have your own fire truck?” Maisie’s mouth remained open as she digested this information. “When I saw it, I thought maybe someone had called 911.”
“Nah, we’re pretty far out here. Relying on the fire department is a real risk during dry weather. We have to have everything we need.”
“Have you ever had to put out a fire?” Maisie was still clinging to Drew’s arm, and Drew held her breath so as not to call her attention to it and possibly inspire her to let go.
“Two years ago.”
“Wildfire?” Maisie actually tightened her grip as if the thought of a massive brush fire terrified her. Drew couldn’t blame her.
“No, one of the chickens kicked out a heating bulb, and the coop caught fire. Luckily, Hannah was nearby, and we put it out before it went up. That one is fast on her feet.”
“Seems to be a family trait.”
“Out here, you learn to solve problems really quick.” Drew stood still as long as she could before finally pulling away from Maisie’s grasp so they could continue the tour. The sense of loss was immediate as well as annoying. Drew needed to remind herself more forcefully from now on that getting too used to Maisie’s company wouldn’t do anyone any good. Keeping her around wasn’t the goal, and the sooner they settled things between them, the sooner Drew could get back to paying attention to her real life, the ranch. “As I was saying, the smallest garden is where they grow pumpkins, cauliflower, and corn. The middle one is for fennel and lots of other stuff I know nothing about except they taste good when someone else cooks them.”
