Weathering the Storm by Morgan Q O'Reilly

Author:Morgan Q O'Reilly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Published: 2012-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

I was chasing down the one chicken that had escaped while I stuffed the others into the pen, when I heard a familiar laugh. Damn. I’d hoped he’d be late tonight, of all nights. The man possessed a punctual inner clock I didn’t. I didn’t even own a watch anymore. They never did me any good. But some warning that Aiden was on the way over would have been nice.

“Here chicky-chicky,” I crooned. She could see the rest of her flock inside the wire and wanted to get through to them. Flapping her wings, she squawked when I picked her up. “Last one!” I crowed in triumph.

Karl shook his head from inside the yard enclosed in framed chicken wire. Designed according to plans found on the internet, and after consultation with the poultry seller, we’d made a yard big enough for twenty laying hens. Pullets. Birds truly as dumb as anything I’d ever encountered.

Karl took the bird and set it on a perch in the newly constructed hen house, where the other hens balanced on dowels sized to their clawed feet. “Last one. Now we have to figure out how to keep the foxes and bears out of the yard, but no worries. Sit there, missy.” Slowly he backed from the enclosure and secured the wire gate. “Twenty stupid birds. Lay well, my lovelies, or you’ll become chicken and dumplings.”

I made my way over to Aiden and he plucked a feather from my hair and leaned down to kiss my cheek.

“You’re molting,” he said.

“Very funny. But aren’t they pretty?” I turned to wave at my babies. “Twenty Red Star chickens who will lay free-range, brown eggs. You’ll have to come try some when they’re in full production. I’m going to give them a few days before we start relying solely on their output.”

“Do you know anything about chickens?”

“I’ll learn,” I declared. “I’ve read, I’ve asked questions and yes, I realize a certain amount of learning must be done hands-on, but I’m up for it.” Seriously, how difficult could it be? People had been raising chickens for millennia. I could learn.

“They have a state of the art coop,” Karl said dryly. “I think as much engineering went into this coop as went into building the house.”

Aiden laughed. “Sure it did.” He looked through a window into the coop where the birds were well secured for the night. “Water trough, straw-filled nesting boxes, ramps. Looking good there. I’m not seeing a heater. Sure it’s warm enough for them?”

“Later. The weather is warm enough now and Karl might decide to butcher them come the end of the season, rather than keep them through the winter,” I told him. “Anyhow, I need a shower.” I turned to him fully then, noticing he’d cleaned up, seemed a little spiffier tonight. “New shirt?”

Aiden shrugged. “Just not as old as the other flannels.”

“Something special going on tonight?”

He actually flushed and scuffled his feet a little, an action so unlike him. “My brothers are on the way up from town.

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