I sighed. “It is, but I truly feel ready. The farm is in great shape, and I’ve delegated all the tasks I needed to give this my undivided attention.”
“Then I’m excited for you.” We both looked toward the window and didn’t say anything for a while. That was our thing. Quiet support. In the winter, we were able to spend more time together because it stayed darker longer, but now the sky was already beginning to lighten.
“Well, it’s getting late… um… early,” Gabe amended. “I’ve gotta go but let me know how it goes.”
“I will.”
Gabe left after that. When I stepped into the living room and headed for the porch, Chicken was there waiting.
“Hey bud,” I said, rubbing the top of his head.
He preened under my touch. Chicken was a harlequin duck. We had a small flock of them, but for some reason, Chicken never showed any interest in them. He’d find ways to escape the coop and would end up on my porch every morning. I worried he would get eaten by a bobcat or something out there, so I let him in, and he made himself at home.
Now he had a dog bed in the corner, a few plastic balls, and a drawer full of duck treats.
“Let’s go, Chicken; we have a big day ahead.”
Well, he didn’t. He would go back to the coop for the day with his flock. Though he didn’t sleep there, it was good for him to spend time with them.
I grabbed my duck jacket before leaving and was glad I did. The air was still crisp in the morning, biting at the tips of my fingers.
I picked up Chicken and carried him to my old, rusty—and dependable—truck and made the drive from my house to the main farmhouse, where my parents and grandfather still lived.
Most of my other siblings lived somewhere on farm property, with the exception of the youngest, who had just turned eighteen, and my one sister in Stonebridge. It wasn’t a long way away from here, and she moved as soon as she could afford it. We were all happy for her, and she came home to visit on holidays and such.
As usual, the first thing I did when I got there was drop Chicken and let all the ducks out before heading to the farmhouse. It was large and blue, with big windows and wind chimes rattling off the wrap-around deck. Every time I saw it, it brought back memories of running around that porch chasing Bridget with a frog and of Beau, always looking out for her, sticking his foot out to trip me, making me lose my frog.
I could almost see our small footsteps worn into the walkway. And the ones of my parents, and their parents.
This house could be mine one day. My parents offered to move out when I took ownership of the farm, but even though I had fond memories of this place, it wasn’tmyplace. I never had any alone time back then; not that I did now, but at night I got to go to a place I built with my two hands and relax.
Sometimes it got a bit lonely, but I had Chicken and Gabe and single-night partners I could take for a ride every once in a while—with all the work I had, that was all I had to offer.
I was… content.
I opened the door to the same everyday madness. My mother was in the kitchen, making enough pancakes and bacon to feed the family. My brother Beau and his kids were already there, as usual. He ran the farm Butchery, so he was always here bright and early. His kids were three and six and way too energetic for five a.m.
Blake, the youngest, was coming down the stairs, clearly still wiping the sleep from his eyes, probably woken up by the rowdy kids in the living room.
“Morning,” I said, shoving my fingers in his hair and giving them a shake.
He batted me away, irritation evident in his features. He had darker hair than me, and while he kept it shorter, there were still the same Hoffman curls piled on top of his head.
“Morning, Uncle Brooks,” Nia, Beau’s daughter, said. She was three and adorable, with her mom’s black hair and fur. Beau’s wife, Mandi, was a rabbit shifter, so while both of their kids still had their horns, they also sprouted large ears every once in a while, especially when excited like this.
I picked her up and swung her around as she screamed shrilly. “Morning, Munchkin.”
“Don’t rile her up too much,” Beau warned me, sipping his coffee deeply. “Mandi will kill me if I bring her back all crazy.”
With the way they were running around and the extra chocolate chips I was sure my mother slipped into their pancakes, I didn’t know if that was possible, but I swung her once more before setting her down.
“Wash your hands,” my mother said, emerging from the kitchen, and they ran up to do it. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Hey, Mom, thanks for breakfast”
“Hey yourself, and you don’t need to thank me every morning,” she said, kissing my cheek. “Pop said Millie was in the yard this morning. I thought you guys finished that fence?”
“Me too. I’ll head into town to get supplies to fix it and have Jared round them up. We’ll have the people coming for our organic certification here tomorrow.”
