Page 19 of Mother Clucker

“Where do you think your meals come from? And your leather purses and shoes? Where do you think the food comes from to feed all those doggies and kitties in that shelter? Somebody has to do the unpleasant stuff so you people can enjoy the benefits.” I crossed my arms and savored my victory as she went speechless.

My satisfaction wasn’t long lived though as she swiped at her eyes.

“Just please promise me you won’t . . . process Rowdy.”

Jesus. Did she really think I would do that? I was halfway between being pissed and wounded when Drew stepped forward.

“Hi. Heather? I’m Drew Bowman. This guy’s buddy from our days back at Texas A&M. I can bring you to see Rowdy right now, if you’d like.”

She nodded, shooting me a quick glance before she said to Drew, “I’d like that.”

That figured. He gets the sweet as pie Heather after I was the one who’d wrung the piss and vinegar out of her.

Her taking me on in playful battle was fun and attractive as hell. But her outright believing I was a murdering monster who tortured small animals was unacceptable.

Fighting with her wasn’t fun anymore now that I knew how she saw me. I let her and Drew get far ahead as I took a moment to calm down.

By the time I’d followed them out to the coop, Heather was laughing.

She covered her eyes and glanced at Drew from beneath them. “Jeez. Again? How many times can he do that in a row?”

“More than I could, that’s for damn sure.” Drew grinned. “But seriously, I’m told up to thirty times a day. Not that I’ve ever stopped to count.”

“Wow.” She shook her head, letting out another short laugh.

They were talking about Rowdy’s active sex life, as the bird made it his duty to pleasure every hen in the coop.

I was jealous. Not of Rowdy. Of Drew for making Heather laugh and smile when she’d done nothing but spat accusations at me and then start to cry.

Hell, maybe I needed to let her know that Drew’s farm had become the number one supplier of chickens for Strickland Feed since I’d taken over running the operation.

She might not be so friendly with him then, once she realized he was a chicken murderer right alongside me.

Drew caught a glimpse of me, standing behind Heather. “Would you like to stay and have lunch with David and me? It’s nothing much, just red beans and rice, made with a ham hock. No chicken. I promise.” He grinned at her.

I knew what he was doing. He was trying to get Heather to stay. What I didn’t know was why. Was it because he enjoyed watching her lay into me? Or because he was interested in her for himself?

Neither was a great reason, but it didn’t matter why. As pissed as I’d been, I wasn’t ready for her to go yet. I at least wanted to part on better terms when she did leave.

“Stay.” I took a step forward. “It’ll give you more time with your bird here.”

She turned and raised her sky blue gaze to mine.

“Okay. If you’re sure.” She spun to glance at Drew.

“He’s sure,” I answered for him, getting tired of her being all nice-nice with Drew and not me.

Drew grinned. “I’ll go set up the picnic table under the tree. It’s nice and shady and you can see the coop from there so you can keep an eye on Rowdy.”

“Thank you. That would be nice. Can I help?—”

“He’s got it.” I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and shot Drew a look.

He responded with a grin. He knew my back off expression well enough. “I got it. You two stay here and get, uh, more acquainted.”

Flag planted. Territory claimed. Other males in the area duly warned. Now all I needed was Heather to realize it.

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