Page 80 of Silas's Sweetheart

When they came to a stop, things became a little crazy and rather deafening when the chicks all greeted Cassidy.

“Has that chicken got a tutu on?” Isley peered over the fence, his eyes so wide that Ziggy had to refrain from laughing aloud.

Cassidy, his lips twitching, grinned at them, and went to open the gate. The chickens went wild and rushed towards it, wings flapping, squawking, showing off the knitted outfits.

“That one’s got a sweater on,” Lennon whispered. “Oh, and that one.”

“Where would you buy something like that?” Bowie questioned, leaning over the fence to get a closer look, sending Ziggy into fits of giggles.

Cassidy grinned, not appearing at all thrown by their questions. “I knit the sweaters for them and make the tutus. My girls like to look pretty.” Heading through the gate, he shrugged causally, like he was talking about the weather.

The noise the chickens made as they gathered around him, like a pack of wild animals, halted the rest of them from following. They’d been wild before he’d stepped inside, but now they came across crazed. Ziggy’s snake wasn’t keen on getting peeked.

“Now come on girls, you know that ain’t how we greet visitors.”

The squawking and wing flapping dropped down a notch.

One of them made a beeline for Bowie, who hovered in the gateway. Bowie got down on his knees and offered her his finger, seeming braver than the rest of them. “She’s so tiny.”

“She’s a Seramas frizzle. Frizzle means she got all those pretty wild colored curly feathers.” The tiny bird pecked at Bowie and fluffed out her feathers as Cassidy spoke. “I breed various kinds. There’s a market for chicken feathers.”

“Feathers?” Bowie asked, as three more of the chicks went over to show interest in him.

“Feathers. They have a lot of keratin, a protein which, when harvested from the feathers, can help balance plastic structures and make the plastic stronger. It’s big business, if only on a small scale for Darling Ranch.” He gave a sheepish smile. “I really just love having lots of little chicks of my own.”

“What type is the one in purple?” Frey asked, finally braving stepping through the gate, side stepping Bowie and the chicks.

Cassidy didn’t look towards the one wearing a purple knitted outfit. “Lynda is a La Fleche.”

“She looks… interesting,” Wilder muttered, lifting his feet, watching the chicks as they darted around him.

“Ya mean the satanic-looking feather display?” Cassidy whispered. “It’s why she prefers to wear her sweaters.”

Lennon muffled a giggle behind his hand.

Cassidy continued to talk about his chickens like they were his family, while he grabbed pails and handed them out. Ziggy took the one handed to him and eyed it and the number of chickens, getting what was coming next.

“We need to collect eggs first, then clean out the hen houses before feeding.”Cassidy glanced at the group, and whatever he saw made his eyes twinkle. “That okay?”

“We are in your hands,” Hollis answered, apparently for everyone, because Ziggy wasn’t sure wading through chicken poop and collecting eggs was what anyone wanted to do with their hands.

“Great, then let’s get crackin’.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Silas

Silas waited all morning for the fallout after reading the group chat. He half expected questions about why he’d not responded, but surprisingly, everyone had held their tongue.

Jupiter had dark circles under his eyes, and he avoided being civil to all of them except for Ethan. Judging from the way Ethan examined Jupiter, he seemed unable to figure out what his game was.

Ethan and Jupiter were like oil and water. Despite Ethan saying he was interested in getting with Jupiter, he didn’t really mean it. Both men loved to be in control, and neither would concede to the other, Silas was damn sure of that. It didn’t stop it from being amusing as all hell watching his friend skirt around the sexual innuendos Jupiter added to every comment he directed at Ethan. It was like a game of tennis. Jupiter won most of the points by lunch time.

In the bunkhouse, with everyone seated with food, Ethan stood at the end of the table. “After you’ve eaten, we’re going intothe paddock to spend time working with horses. It’s important you listen to what either Silas, Cranny or me are saying when you’re in the paddock. Some of the horses we have on the ranch have issues through wrong handlin’, so it’s important to pay attention.”

Ethan threw a look at Jupiter. “Listen to any instructions you're given. Horses sense fear, so if you’re spooked, they’ll become spooked by you. There’s no shame in saying you aren’t comfortable around them. If I say don’t touch any horse, then don’t. Don’t feed them anything except what’s in the bag hanging off the gate. If you want to try anything we show you, that’s fine, you’ll be given a well-trained horse. If there’s a problem, then it’ll be with you and not our horses. Just so we’re clear.”

“Right,” Rue rumbled under his breath, gaining a look from Ethan that could blister wood.

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