19. Scary Chickens

CHAPTER 19

Scary Chickens

LIAM

H ere I am, stood in the middle of my newly renovated living room, a grin spreading across my face. It was perfect, a seamless blend of rustic charm and modern elegance, just like I'd pictured in my head.

The hardwood floors gleamed in the sunlight, the exposed wooden beams adding a touch of warmth and character. The furniture was cozy and inviting, begging to be sprawled out on with a good book or a lazy Sunday nap.

I wandered into the kitchen, running my hand along the smooth granite counter tops. The stainless steel appliances sparkled, the farmhouse sink adding a touch of vintage charm.

Even the bathroom was a work of art, with its claw foot tub and walk-in shower. I could already imagine soaking in a hot bath after a long day at the ranch, the rainfall shower head pounding away the aches and pains.

But my favorite part of the whole house was the space I'd carved out for my piano. It sat in the corner of the living room, a sleek black grand that was just waiting to be played.

I felt a pang of longing, a sudden urge to sit down and let my fingers fly across the keys. It had been too long since I'd played, too long since I'd lost myself in the music and let everything else fall away.

A sharp scratch at my leg jolted me out of my reverie. I looked down to see Peanut staring up at me, her green eyes wide and imploring.

"Alright, alright," I laughed, bending down to scoop her up. "I know, you're starving. Heaven forbid I make you wait five whole minutes for breakfast."

I carried her into the kitchen, setting her down on the counter while I rummaged through the cupboard for her food. As I poured the kibble into her bowl.

Glancing at the clock, I realized I still had some time before I needed to head to the ranch for my first day. And as I sipped my coffee, my phone buzzed with Jimmy's name flashing on the screen.

"Hey, Jimmy! What's up?" I answered, leaning against the counter.

"Liam, my man! How's life treating you in the countryside?" Jimmy's energetic voice filled my ear.

"Oh, you know, just taking it day by day. Actually, I got a job at a ranch out here."

"A ranch? Are you crazy?" Jimmy's tone was a mix of disbelief and amusement.

I laughed. "Probably. But it feels right, you know?"

"If you say so," Jimmy chuckled. "Listen, the record label has been asking about a new album from you. Your fans are eager for new material. Think you can make it happen?"

I paused, considering. "You know what? Tell them I'm working on it. Being out here, it's like the music is starting to come back to me. Tell them to get ready."

"I'm sure you do," he said, a note of affection in his voice. "But seriously, how are you holding up out there? I didn't expect you to go full-on Brokeback Mountain on me."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I know, I know. It's not exactly what anyone had in mind for my big comeback. "

"Hey, I'm not judging," he said quickly. "If this is what you need to do, then I support you one hundred percent. I just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself, that's all."

I felt a rush of warmth, a sudden swell of gratitude for this man who had been by my side through thick and thin. "I am, Jimmy. I promise. Being out here, working with my hands, getting back to my roots…it's helping. More than I ever thought it would."

He was quiet for a moment, and I could picture the look on his face. The furrowed brow, the worried crease between his eyes. "Okay. If you say so."

"I do," I said firmly. "And who knows? Maybe all this fresh air and manual labor will be just the inspiration I need to finally write that album everyone's been nagging me about."

He chuckled, the sound warm and fond. "Stranger things have happened. Speaking of, any chance I could come out there and see this new life of yours for myself? Maybe bring a guitar, do a little jamming under the stars?"

I grinned, a sudden thrill of excitement zipping through me. "Hell yes. You know you're always welcome here, Jimmy. Mi casa es su casa and all that jazz."

"Careful, I might just take you up on that," he warned, a smile in his voice.

A sudden commotion out front caught my attention. The unmistakable sound of car doors slamming and heavy boots on gravel.

The renovators.

"Listen, Jimmy, I gotta run," I said quickly, grabbing my keys and wallet from the counter. "But I'll call you later, yeah? We'll make plans for that visit."

"You better," he said firmly. "Don't make me come out there and drag your ass back to civilization."

"Aw, you're all heart," I drawled, shouldering open the front door. "Talk soon. "

I hung up just as the renovators started unloading their gear, their voices loud and jovial in the crisp morning air.

"Morning, fellas," I called, giving them a wave as I walked past. "Peanut and I are heading out for a bit, but you know the drill. Mi casa es su casa, just don't burn the place down while I'm gone."

They laughed, waving me off with good-natured shouts and promises to keep the mayhem to a minimum. I shook my head, a grin tugging at my lips. They were a rowdy bunch, but they did good work. And more importantly, I trusted them. Trusted them enough to leave the house in their hands, even if it was just for a few hours.

I scooped up Peanut, tucking her into the crook of my arm as I made my way to the car. "Come on, girl. Let's go see if Hank is as much of a softie for cute kitty faces as I think he is."

I pulled into the ranch's dirt lot, the tires kicking up a cloud of dust in my wake. No sooner had I cut the engine than a tall figure emerged from the shadows of the barn, his hair glinting gold in the morning sun.

He ambled over to my car, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he took in the sight of me. "Hey there, you must be Liam. I'm Dean."

I climbed out, Peanut still cradled against my chest. "It's finally nice to meet you. Hope you're ready to show this city boy the ropes."

He laughed, the sound warm and rich. "Oh, I think we can manage that. But first things first - Hank's waiting for you in the barn. Follow me."

I followed Dean into the barn, the earthy scent of hay and horses filling my nostrils. Hank was waiting for us, his weathered face breaking into a grin as he saw me.

"Liam! Good to see you again," he said, shaking my hand firmly. "Ready to get your hands dirty?"

I chuckled, nodding. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

Hank's eyes flicked down to my clothes, taking in the designer jeans and fitted t-shirt. "Ah, I see you're sporting the city slicker look. That won't do for ranch work."

He rummaged through a nearby storage box and tossed me a bundle of clothes. "Here, put these on. They might be a bit big, but they'll do the job."

I caught the clothes, raising an eyebrow. "What, no Gucci cowboy boots?"

Hank snorted, shaking his head. "Not on this ranch, kid. We're all about function over fashion here."

I grinned, heading to the corner of the barn to change. As I slipped into the worn jeans and flannel shirt, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. This was really happening. I was really doing this.

When I emerged, Hank nodded approvingly. "Much better. Now you look like you belong here." He jerked his head towards the door, motioning for me to follow. "Come on, let's start with the chicken coop. It's feeding time."

As we walked across the yard, Peanut trotting at my heels, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of the ranch. It seemed to stretch on forever, a patchwork of fields and pastures and endless blue sky.

"It's beautiful out here," I murmured, more to myself than to Hank.

But he heard me anyway, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It is, isn't it? There's something about working the land, being connected to nature like this it gets under your skin in a way nothing else does."

I nodded, feeling a sudden lump in my throat. Because he was right. Even in just the short time I'd been here, I could feel it. The peace, the grounding, the sense of belonging.

It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before.

We reached the chicken coop, the sound of clucking and rustling feathers filling the air. Hank paused, turning to me with a serious look on his face.

"Now, before we go in, there's something you need to know," he said solemnly.

I raised an eyebrow, bracing myself for some kind of dire warning.

"Watch out for Martha," Hank said, his lips twitching. "She'll give you a run for your money."

I blinked, not sure if I'd heard him correctly. "Martha? Who's Martha?"

Hank grinned, pushing open the door to the coop. "Oh, you'll see."

As we stepped inside, I was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of chickens. They were everywhere, pecking at the ground and flapping their wings and generally causing a ruckus.

And there, in the center of it all, was the biggest, meanest-looking chicken I'd ever seen in my life. She stood tall, her feathers ruffled and her beady eyes fixed on me like I was public enemy number one.

"That's Martha," Hank said, pointing with a barely concealed smirk. "She's the queen bee around here, and she doesn't take kindly to newcomers."

I swallowed hard, eyeing Martha warily. Her beak looked sharp enough to draw blood, and I had a feeling she wouldn't hesitate to use it. "Noted. So, what's first on the agenda?"

Hank handed me a basket, a twinkle in his eye. "Egg collecting. It's not as easy as it looks, especially with Martha on the prowl."

I took the basket, squaring my shoulders and trying to channel some of the confidence I usually felt on stage. "Alright, let's do this."

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the coop. Immediately, a flurry of feathers and beaks surrounded me. I ducked and weaved, feeling like I was in some bizarre chicken-themed video game.

"Easy there, city boy," Hank called out, chuckling. "They can smell fear!"

"Very funny," I muttered, reaching tentatively for an egg. Just as my fingers brushed it, a chicken pecked at my hand. I yelped, yanking my hand back.

Martha, meanwhile, was eyeing me like I was the main course at a chicken dinner. She strutted around, clucking what I could only assume were chicken obscenities at me.

Peanut, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. She darted between my legs, yipping excitedly and sending chickens scattering in all directions. At one point, she even managed to snatch an egg right out from under Martha's watchful eye.

"Peanut, no!" I cried, lunging for the egg. In my haste, I tripped over a water dish, sending me sprawling face-first into a pile of… well, let's just say it wasn't roses.

As I lay there, covered in feathers and less savory substances, I heard Hank's deep belly laugh. "Welcome to farm life, Liam!"

I pushed myself up, spitting out a feather and trying to maintain what was left of my dignity. That's when I locked eyes with Martha. She cocked her head, as if to say, "You don't belong here, pretty boy."

Something in me snapped. I'd faced down record executives, rabid fans, and paparazzi. I wasn't about to let a chicken get the best of me.

With renewed determination, I dove back into the fray. I dodged beaks, sidestepped angry hens, and even managed to snatch an egg right out from under Martha's watchful gaze.

"Ha!" I crowed triumphantly, holding the egg aloft like a trophy. "Take that, you overgrown feather duster!"

Martha, apparently not one to take an insult lying down, let out an indignant squawk and charged. I yelped, scrambling backwards and nearly upending the basket of hard-won eggs.

Peanut, sensing my distress, swooped in like a tiny, furry superhero. She planted herself between me and Martha, barking fiercely. The standoff lasted for a tense moment before Martha, seemingly deciding this battle wasn't worth it, turned and strutted away with as much dignity as a chicken could muster.

By the time we finished, I was sweaty, disheveled, and covered in more chicken-related substances than I cared to think about. But the basket was full of eggs, and I felt a strange sense of accomplishment.

"Not bad for your first time," Hank said, clapping me on the back. "You might make a farmer yet."

I snorted, brushing a feather from my hair. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I think I'll stick to music for now."

But as we walked back to the house, Peanut trotting happily at my heels, I couldn't help but feel a small spark of pride. It wasn't a sold-out arena or a platinum record, but in its own way, surviving Martha and her feathered minions felt like a victory.

And who knows? Maybe there was more to this farm life than I'd thought. At the very least, I had a feeling it would make for one hell of a song.

"That cat of yours is a troublemaker," he chuckled, shaking his head. "But I like her style."

I grinned, scooping Peanut up and pressing a kiss to her fuzzy head. "Yeah, she's a handful. But she keeps things interesting, that's for sure."

After the egg collecting, Hank showed me how to feed the chickens and clean out their coop. It was dirty, smelly work, but there was something satisfying about it. Something real and tangible and grounding.

As we moved on to the other animals - the horses, the cows, the pigs - I found myself falling into a rhythm. The physical labor, the repetitive tasks, the sense of purpose it was like a balm to my weary soul.

And through it all, Hank was a steady presence at my side. Guiding me, teaching me, offering words of encouragement and gentle correction when I needed it.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity, of learning and laughing and working side by side with Hank and Dean. By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, I was bone-tired but satisfied, my muscles aching in the best possible way.

"Alright, boys," Hank said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I think it's about time we called it a day. What do you say we head inside, rustle up some grub?"

Dean grinned, his green eyes sparkling. "I thought you'd never ask. I'm starving."

I chuckled, falling into step beside them as we made our way back to the main house. "Count me in. I could eat a horse."

Hank raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Careful what you wish for, city boy. Around here, that's not just a figure of speech."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Duly noted."

As we settled around the large, weathered table, the aroma of home-cooked food filled the air. Hank set down a steaming platter of roasted chicken, while Dean proudly presented a bowl of mashed potatoes that looked creamy enough to be a cloud.

"Hope you're hungry," Hank grinned, passing the chicken my way. "Dean here thinks we're feeding an army."

Dean, a burly man with kind eyes, chuckled. "Better too much than too little, I always say."

As I loaded my plate, I noticed a younger man I hadn't met yet, eyeing me curiously. He had a mop of curly hair and a friendly face that reminded me of a puppy.

"Oh, right," Hank said, catching my gaze. "Liam, this here's Leo. He's our resident tech wizard and part-time ranch hand."

Leo's face lit up. "Tech wizard might be overselling it a bit," he laughed, reaching across the table to shake my hand. "I just make sure our Wi-Fi doesn't crap out when we're trying to stream the rodeo. It's great to meet you, Liam."

I smiled, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you too, Leo."

As we ate, the conversation flowed as freely as the sweet tea. Dean regaled us with a story about a particularly stubborn bull that had led them on a wild goose chase across the property.

"So there I am," Dean said, gesturing wildly with his fork, "up to my knees in mud, trying to lasso this beast, when suddenly-"

"When suddenly," Leo cut in, grinning, "he loses his footing and face-plants right into the mud! "

The table erupted in laughter, Dean's face turning a shade redder.

"Hey now," he protested, "I didn't see you out there helping, Mr. Tech Wizard."

Leo held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, my talents lie in the digital realm. I leave the mud-wrestling to the professionals."

I found myself laughing along, caught up in the easy camaraderie. It was so different from the world I'd left behind.

Throughout the meal, I noticed Hank glancing at me periodically, a slightly puzzled look on his face. It was as if he was trying to place me, like I reminded him of someone but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"So, Liam," Leo turned to me, curiosity shining in his eyes, "what brings you to our neck of the woods? You're not from around here, are you?"

I hesitated, not sure how much to reveal. "No, I'm not. I'm… taking a bit of a break, I guess. Needed a change of scenery."

Hank's eyebrows raised slightly at this, his gaze sharpening with interest.

"Well, you picked a hell of a place for a change," Dean chuckled. "Not much goes on around here, but the scenery's sure pretty."

"And the company's not bad either," Leo added with a wink.

As we continued to eat and talk, I found myself relaxing more than I had in years. The warmth of the kitchen, the delicious food, and the genuine friendliness around the table it felt like something I'd been missing for a long time.

And as I caught Hank's eye across the table, saw the curiosity and warmth in his gaze, I realized that while they might not know who I really was yet, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. For now, I could just be Liam, the guy who needed a change of scenery. And that felt pretty good.

After saying our goodbyes, I walked back to my car, Peanut curled up in my arms, I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. It had been a long, hard day of work, but it was the good kind of tired. The kind that came from putting in an honest day's labor, from using your hands and your heart to make something real.

"Hey, Liam!" Hank's voice jolted me out of my thoughts. I turned to see him striding towards me, a broad grin on his face.

"You did good today, kid," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "You're getting the hang of it. Ranch life isn't for everyone, but you're doing well."

I felt a flush of pride at his words, a warmth spreading through my chest. "Thanks, Hank. It's definitely a change of pace from what I'm used to."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'll bet. But sometimes, change is exactly what we need. It has a way of showing us what really matters, you know?"

I nodded, shifting Peanut in my arms. "Yeah, I'm starting to see that."

Hank's expression turned serious, his brow furrowing. "Listen, Liam. I don't want to bring down the mood, but I think you should know."

He paused, as if searching for the right words.

"Know what?" I prompted, a flicker of unease in my gut.

"The ranch, it's…well, we've been going through some tough times lately. Financially, I mean."

I blinked, surprised. "Oh. I had no idea."

Hank sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, it's not something we like to advertise. But I thought you should be aware, seeing as you're part of the team now."

I swallowed, a sudden lump in my throat. Part of the team. The words sent a thrill through me, a sense of belonging that I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

"I appreciate you telling me, Hank," I said quietly. "And if there's anything I can do to help, anything at all just say the word."

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I appreciate that, Liam. I really do. But for now, just focus on learning the ropes, okay? One step at a time."

I nodded, but my mind was already racing. There had to be something I could do, some way I could use my skills, my resources, to help the ranch weather this storm.

I just had to figure out what that was.

By the time I finally made it back to my own house, my head was spinning with numbers and possibilities, my heart full to bursting.

As I stepped inside, Peanut weaving between my legs, I felt a sudden rush of exhaustion. It had been a long day, a rollercoaster of emotions and revelations.

But even as my body cried out for rest, my mind was alive with inspiration. I wandered over to my newly renovated music space, my fingers itching to create.

And as I sat down at the piano, as I let my hands drift over the keys the music began to flow, pouring out of me like water from a spring. Melodies and harmonies, lyrics and rhythms, all tangling together in a glorious tapestry of sound.