Page 67 of Shattered Melodies

“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.

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