Page 6 of The Cowboy Complication

“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.

3

Isla

SHE MIGHT HAVE overreacted a little to the hoof trimming. May have been just a tiny bit dramatic in her accusations—both the ones she voiced and the ones she kept to herself.

No toes were cut off and—as promised—the goats didn’t even seem to notice the hoof trimming. They just dangled from the sling, looking confused over how they came to be hovering mid-air as she gave them their pedicures.

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