Chapter 11: Birth of Harmony
Baron's first birthday came and went, and it was a long time before he learned how to stand and even longer before he learned how to walk, having help from his parents or Dr. Hare who would come by to see how well he is doing just to be sure that the typhus disease did not weaken his immune system or anything. Once he had gotten the hang of walking, there was no keeping him still which was to be expected of children at that age. When told to stay in a room for two minutes, Baron would be behind his mother, father, or the doctor, tottering on wire thin, shaky legs.
After months of hard work, the Buzzard family had been able to improve most of their home without overspending from what they still needed to make ends meet. It may not have been as big or grand like a wealthy two-story ranch house or a beautiful mansion, but the house was snug and comfortable enough to provide shelter by keeping out the cold weather and preventing unwanted pests from coming in so easily. It had not been easy though, not when Avery had to use timber around the land to make fence rails and posts, having help from Bellamy Bighorn to gather firewood and sell in town for 75 cents a wagon load, sharing the profits there. On other days, he did chores around the farm, fixing the leaky roof, plugging the rat hole, and preparing plans for a new bed by the time Baron would start to outgrow the crib when he reached the age of three.
A year after they moved in, the wheat crops had already been planted with Becky helping to plant corn with seeds she bought from the general store and picking the blackberries that grew around their property, selling them in town for nine cents a gallon, having not been able to afford apple seeds at the moment to grow apple trees. From her vegetable garden, Becky sold her tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, pies, and eggs, and with the money she bought a feral cow for fresh milk and butter. Since the news of the Hawktail family about to have a baby chick at any day now, the days on the Buzzard farm began to have a rhythm, like notes in a melody. Each morning, Becky would water and feed the chickens their cornmeal as they ran during the days, collecting sawdust and trading the eggs for credit in buying what they needed such as flour, salt pork, sugar, tea, and kitchen supplies to replace broken ones. At times, they buy a gift for Baron now and then like candy or a new toy that he couldn't swallow.
The bell above the door of the general store chimed as they entered, and Miles Pronghorn, looked up from his newspaper. "Afternoon, Avery, Becky. What can I do yah for?" His eyes lit up at the sight of Baron, who waved a chubby wing in greeting. To the young chick, the store was a treasure trove of supplies and oddities, with shelves stretching to the rafters and a musty scent that spoke of long-forgotten adventures. They moved through the aisles, gathering the essentials: flour, sugar, coffee, and a shiny new toy for Baron. Baron's eyes grew wide as Becky placed the wind-up metal horse in his tiny claws. It galloped in circles on the countertop, and he giggled, a sound that echoed through the otherwise quiet store. The joy was contagious, and even Avery cracked a rare smile as he filled their basket with canned goods and ammunition. They had spent the last year building a life in High Wind Gulch, and despite the challenges, it felt like home.
"I think he'd look so cute in that, and this one," Becky chanted as she picked up baby supplies at the general store, shopping there with Avery in deciding what new clothes or toys he would need now that he was growing, even if he might not be outgrowing his diapers until after his second year. Miles Pronghorn was kind enough to give them a fair discount to not charge them so much when it came to supplies, they would need. Both parents wanted to enjoy the time they had left with their son as an infant before he outgrew everything. "Maybe even this one." She felt Baron squirm in her arms, eager to explore the world beyond the confines of his mother's embrace. His eyes, wide with curiosity darted from the jars of candy to the spinning wind-up toys that chirped and danced in the occasional breeze.
"You know Becky, as far as I know," Avery had helped Becky with the supplies of blankets and fabric for sewing. "Baron won't be a baby forever. Soon enough, he will outgrow those baby clothes you're holdin' there."
"I know that Avery, but I just want to see that he still has enough clothes to last till then, even for when the winter seasons show up." Becky was in too much of a good mood for any kind of disagreement with Avery or anyone else about how they would be taking care of Baron in his first upcoming four years as a toddler. "But I figure that by the time Baron outgrows his crib and his clothes, I know who they'll go to."
"Our future grandchildren?" Avery took a wild guess on that, hoping there would come a day when his son was old enough to marry and have children of his own, making him and Becky grandparents someday.
"That's right, I don't wanna leave this life too soon without seein' our grandchildren someday," Becky kept Baron in one arm as she doublechecked what they had to take home. "I think that's everything now, so we can leave."
Avery had helped Becky take the supplies over to the counter for Mr. Pronghorn to check over and ring up the price for them to pay with either cash or credit.
Miles eyed their haul, his expression shifting from friendly to concerned. "Heard you're heading back to the ranch before the storm hits. You've got enough supplies to last?"
Avery nodded, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "More than enough, Miles. Thanks for keeping an eye on us." He handed over the shopping list, and Miles began to gather the items, placing them in a burlap sack with a gentle precision that suggested he'd done this a thousand times before.
As the sack grew heavier, the tension in the air grew thicker. The distant rumble of thunder underscored their conversation, a warning that the storm wasn't just a whisper of a concern anymore. It was a roar, a beast approaching from the horizon, ready to pounce.
Miles looked out the window, his expression tightening. "Best hurry. The wind's picking up. Sheriff HawkTail said it's gonna be a bad one."
As they stepped outside, the wind bit at their faces, carrying with it the scent of rain and dust. They secured their purchases in the wagon and climbed in, Baron squealing in delight as the wind whipped through his downy feathers. The storm was closing in, the sky a tumultuous canvas of bruised purples and greys.
On the other side of town, the hair salon was a stark contrast to the ruggedness of the general store. Through the lace-curtained window, they could see Edna Nosedive, the town's most high-maintenance eagle, seated in a plush chair. Her feathers were immaculately groomed, not a single strand out of place. She had her beak buried in a book titled "Society's Finest: A Peek into New Cattleton's Elite." The sight of her brought a twinge of envy and disgust to Becky's heart. In the quiet moments, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have once been part of such grandeur. Even though the lifestyle was not for her, she still wondered what it was like.
Gareth Gadwell, the barber, glanced up from his work, a squirrel with a half-finished mohawk. "What's that you're reading, Edna?" His tone was polite, but his eyes held a hint of mischief. Everyone knew Edna had a penchant for flaunting her former life.
Edna looked up, her feathers ruffling slightly with annoyance. "It's about the finer side of life in New Cattleton," she said with a sniff. "You wouldn't understand, Gareth. It's about elegance and culture."
Gareth chuckled, his laugh a short bark. "I reckon not, Edna. But I do know a thing or two about a good windstorm. You might want to batten down the hatches before this one hits."
"Edna looked up from her book, her sharp eyes narrowing. "We've had worse, I'm sure," she said, her voice dripping with the kind of dismissal reserved for those who hadn't faced the grandeur of the big city. "Well as far as I know, nobody seems to know what they're talking about when criticizing the lifestyle of my former hometown being an unfinished mining camp. Believe me when I say that New Cattleton is by far the center of Moo Mesa. No other city can compare to the lifestyle, unless you bring up Jersey City and had no place to live. Some might end up marrying someone for their money and high-class reputation. I only agreed to move here as long as Edward keeps his word that things will get better in time as soon as he completes his greatest surprise yet."
Gareth looked up at her from the mirror. "This ain't New Cattleton, Edna. High Wind Gulch has its own charm, and we know how to handle ourselves when the weather turns sour."
Edna huffed, flipping a page. "And what would you know about charm, Gareth? You spend your days playing barber to this backwater town." She kept her eyes on the book pages as she continued with how she met Edward. "Anyways, I met Edward during his business trip to Jersey City when I was there on important business myself. It was love at first sight, just as my own mother said he'd be and the fact that he a rich timber bird from the southeast where he lived on a plantation. That was when I was set on being treated as his personal queen."
Gareth's mood didn't sour. He had seen enough how Edward and Edna would often pass by with tall tales to spread from one spot to the other, some true and some false. For anyone that knew Edward personally, the eagle never really owned more than a thousand acres of plantation with dozens of servants at. Only that his father lived in a grand mansion surrounded by cotton fields where it was rumored that he owned a few servants and slaves from poor families trying to earn a dollar to put bread on the table. Other rumors stated that Edward's father forced them to work without pay and fed scraps from every meal at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. True or false, the Nosedive family was not to be trusted, but the barber kept that opinion to himself for now. "I know enough to know that High Wind Gulch has heart, Edna. Besides, you're the one with your beak in a book about a place you're not even from."
Edna's eyes snapped to Gareth, a look of surprise crossing her face. "How dare you, Gareth Gadwell! Just because I was born elsewhere doesn't mean I don't have a right to call this place home!" Edna continued to brag about her home life and future plans. "Last time I talked about New Cattleton, Edward insisted that this town may not be like all the cities I've been to with a few friends, but even they did not start out that way from the start, telling me that improvements don't happen overnight, so I had no choice but to accept his advice and see what happens the more we visit the construction site."
Of course, there was nothing stopping Edna when she believed that her husband was the luckiest rich bird there ever was enough to set up her own kind of trap for him and become his wife. He of course wanted to marry money more than for love, other than just being pretty and having family connections, becoming a good match. It was hard leaving New Cattleton and all the parties and formal events Edna had attended, but Edmund insisted that since he was friends with Callahan Condor, he would help them out in seeing that their life was easier than the average farmers that live in ordinary cabins and seemed to rely on only low-class jobs with only a crumb of bread to put on the table. Other than that, she would hate to be surrounded where she'd get her fancy beautiful hats caked in manure, the worst thing to happen. Still, it became an experience comparing her hats with the other ladies in High Wind Gulch. At the first sight of the town, there were no mansions, no fancy shops, jewelry stores, or carriages…just a dirt main street with country birds and other mammals going about their daily business. There would be no strolling after the opera house since there was no opera. Not even a museum or fancy restaurant.
Back outside the salon, Baron, who had been watching the exchange with a tilted head, let out a gurgling sound that made Becky laugh. Avery looked at his son with a fondness that softened his features. "You're going to be just fine, little man," he murmured, ruffling the baby's feathers.
They climbed into the wagon, the wind howling a prelude to the storm. As they turned onto the main street, Edna Nosedive strutted out of the hair salon, her feathers gleaming with oil and her expression haughty. She held her book tightly to her chest as if it were a shield against the coarse valley of Moo Mesa. The moment she saw Avery and Becky, her eyes narrowed, and she picked up her pace, her tail feathers fluffing out in annoyance.
Becky felt a knot form in her stomach as Edna approached. The last time they had met was at the Founder's Day dance, where an argument about winning had led to a full-blown feather-flinging brawl. Becky had been defending her family's honor while trying to get back the first prize ribbon she won at the pie contest, but the memory still stung, especially since it had been her first real confrontation since moving to High Wind Gulch. She clutched Baron closer, hoping to avoid another scene. "I've been hearin' from Ruby that the egg at her house could hatch any…." Becky had tried to start a conversation with Avery only for Edna to cut her off then.
"Oh, how delightful," Edna said, her voice dripping with condescension. "The great Becky Buzzard, slumming it in the streets. I suppose you and your good-for-nothing husband have come into town to scrounge up whatever you can before the storm hits."
Becky felt the blood rush to her face. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Why, Edna," she said, her voice as smooth as the surface of a still pond. "I didn't know you was such an expert on the town's comings and goings. Perhaps you've been spending too much time in the salon and not enough with your own reflection. Which reminds me, how's that husband of yours?"
Edna's eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer to the wagon. "Edward is just fine, Becky. Far too busy with important matters to bother with the likes of you. And I'd watch your tongue if I were you. You wouldn't want to find yourself on the wrong side of the Nosedive family."
Becky snorted, the sound echoing in the now tense silence of the street. "Well, if being busy means hiding from his responsibilities, then I'm surprised you can even find him to say howdy. Maybe he's been taking lessons from Hunter Smith, the town drunk that threatened me and my baby right here, weeks ago." She shot a look at Avery, who nodded in silent support.
Edna's feathers bristled at the mention of Becky's encounter with the infamous drunkard. "How dare you compare my Edward to that... that... good-for-nothing!"
Avery leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Edna's. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Edna. But your threats sound eerily similar to the slurred warnings I've heard from the bottom of a whiskey bottle." His voice was low and steady, a stark contrast to the wind's growing fury. "Besides, Becky told me everything...how he threatened her and Baron after refusin' to apologize for bumpin' into them." The memory of that day was still fresh in Avery's mind, like a wound that hadn't fully healed. The way Becky had cowered, clutching their baby to her chest, and the smell of fear that had clung to the air like the stench of a skunk. It had taken all his restraint not to peck out the drunkard's eyes right there and then in his dreams. But he had held back, knowing that a scene in the middle of town wouldn't solve anything. Not when the law was already on their side. Sheriff Clarence HawkTail had swooped in like a guardian angel, his sharp eyes and stern demeanor enough to sober up even the most intoxicated of souls. He had taken one look at Becky's trembling arms and had immediately set things right, escorting Hunter Smith out of town with a firm warning that echoed through the dusty streets. It was a small victory in a town that often felt like it was one sneeze away from chaos, but it was a victory, nonetheless.
Now, as Avery's words hung in the air, Edna's cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. "Why, I never," she sputtered, her feathers standing on end. "At least I don't wake up every morning to the sight of you two... you know, in the same room." She spat out the words as if they were poison, her eyes darting around the street as if searching for an ally.
Avery's laugh was like a thunderclap, cutting through the tension. "Well, Edna, I reckon we can all be grateful for that. You've got more than your fair share of wealth to wake up to. Can't say I'd want to suffocate in it every mornin' for life." He winked at Becky, who couldn't help but chuckle despite the situation.
Edna's feathers ruffled even further, her beak tightening into a snarl. "At least I don't wake up to a one-horse shack that's more suitable for a family of rodents," she spat back.
"That's enough, Edna," Avery said, his voice still firm but his smile fading. "You're talking about my wife and son."
"Your wife and son?" Edna scoffed. "More like the town's burden. And as for your big mouth, it seems to have forgotten that I have hidden ears everywhere in this town. You think you're so clever with your quips and your... your... buzzard ways!"
Avery's smile grew wider, his beak opening to counteract on that. "Why, Edna, I didn't realize you had such a keen interest in our living arrangements. But then again, I suppose it's hard to keep your beak shut when you're so busy spreading rumors."
Edna's eyes narrowed to slits, and she took a step closer to the wagon. "You're just a buzzard with a big mouth, Avery," she hissed. "But you'll find out soon enough that in High Wind Gulch, the likes of you don't get to have a say in anything that matters."
Avery's grin never wavered; his eyes gleaming with a newfound challenge. "Is that so?" He leaned down, bringing his face level with hers. "Well, Edna, I've got news for you. This buzzard has a big beak to match that mouth, and it's going to cast a big vote to come in the next mayoral election."
The wind picked up, sending dust swirling around them as Becky's grip on the reins tightened. She knew her husband's temper was as unpredictable as the weather, and she didn't want to see it unleashed on Edna, no matter how much the eagle lady deserved it. "Avery," she murmured, a warning in her tone.
But Avery was already climbing down from the wagon, the sack of supplies slung over his shoulder. "You know, Edna," he said, his voice still surprisingly calm, "You're like that storm up there. All noise and bluster, but when it really comes down to it, you're just a bunch of hot air."
Becky looked at him, her eyes wide with concern. Baron chirped in his seat, sensing the tension in the air. She knew Avery's patience was wearing thin, and she didn't want to see what would happen when it snapped. "Avery, let's just go," she whispered, tugging at his arm.
But Avery's gaze was locked on Edna, his smile cold and unyielding. "You keep on whispering, Edna," he said, his voice carrying over the growing wind. "But your words are just that—whispers in the wind. The Buzzards of High Wind Gulch have earned our place here, and we ain't goin' nowhere."
Edna watched them go, her feathers ruffled and her beak tight with anger. As the dust settled, she muttered under her breath, "Blasted desert dwelling scavengers." It was a sentiment she had expressed many times before, but today it seemed to hold less power than usual. Perhaps it was the way Becky had held her ground, or the calm confidence in Avery's eyes, but something had shifted.
Just as Becky had feared, Avery's temper had flared at Edna's words. But rather than exploding into a rage, he had remained eerily calm. It was only Checkers who had shown the outward signs of agitation. As they had driven away, Checkers had turned around sharply, almost as if he had a vendetta of his own against Edna. His nostrils had flared, and he had snorted roughly, the air thick with the scent of his displeasure. Edna had stumbled back, her book falling to the ground, pages fluttering in the wind like the wings of a startled bird.
Avery had gripped the reins tightly, his knuckles white, as he struggled to regain control of the spooked animal. "Whoa, Checkers," he murmured, his voice steady despite the situation. "Easy, boy." The horse's eyes had rolled back in his head, but with a firm tug and a gentle coo, Avery had managed to right the wagon and steer it back onto the main street.
Edna, now a safe distance away, picked herself up off the ground, her dignity bruised but not broken. She watched the Buzzards drive away, her chest heaving with indignation. How dare they? The nerve of that buzzard, letting his horse attack her like that!
But as the dust cloud kicked up by the wagon dissipated, she heard Avery's voice, carried on the wind, echoing through the streets. "Remember, Edna, come election day, every creature has a voice, even us desert scavengers!" It was a taunt, a declaration of war in the most civilized of terms. The message was clear: the Buzzards weren't going anywhere, and they weren't going to be silenced.
The wagon jolted and rattled as it bumped over the uneven ground, leaving the main street behind them. Becky's heart raced as she clutched Baron closer, her eyes on the horizon where the storm clouds churned. "It's okay, baby," she whispered into his downy neck. "We're going home."
Home. It was a simple word, but it held so much meaning. The house by the creek that they had built with the help of Peterson and Bellamy, the one that had seen their love blossom and Baron's first awkward flutters. It was their sanctuary, a place where the whispers of the town couldn't reach them. As they drew closer, the wind grew stronger, whipping their feathers and sending leaves dancing around them. The air was thick with the scent of rain and the promise of relief from the oppressive heat.
Avery's eyes remained fixed on the path ahead, his jaw set in a firm line. Becky could see the muscles in his neck tense with every jolt of the wagon. She knew he was replaying the confrontation with Edna in his mind, turning over every word and gesture. It was unlike him to let anyone get under his skin, but when it came to their family, he was as protective as a feral mountain lion with its cub. They turned onto the narrow dirt road that led to their house, the only sound the jingle of the wagon's harness and the mournful whistle of the wind. Baron had fallen silent, sensing the tension in the air. Becky reached over to place a comforting arm around Avery, her eyes never leaving the horizon where the storm clouds were rapidly approaching.
The wagon jolted to a stop inside the barn, the sudden silence deafening. Avery took a deep breath, his arms shaking as he climbed down, the sack of supplies thumping to the ground beside him. He looked at Becky, his eyes haunted. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "I shouldn't have let her get to me like that."
Becky slid out of the wagon, her eyes searching his. "You have nothing to apologize for," she said firmly, her voice as steady as the hand that reached for his. "You were just defending us." She knew that Edna's words had struck a nerve, had poked at the insecurities that came from being an outsider in a town where everyone had their place, and the Buzzards hadn't quite found theirs yet, other than making a few friends.
Avery took Becky's hand, his grip tight. "It's just... she makes me so mad," he said, his voice low and strained. "The way she talked about us... about Baron. It's not right."
Becky nodded, her eyes understanding. "I know, love. But we can't let her and Edward get the best of us. We're better than that." She stepped closer, her arms wrapping around him in a comforting embrace. "We've got each other, and that's all that matters."
Avery took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Becky's. He knew she was right. They had faced worse than Edna's sharp tongue and Edward's cowardice. Together, they had weathered storms both literal and figurative. They had built a life here, in High Wind Gulch, and no one was going to take that away from them. He leaned into Becky's embrace, feeling the tension in his body ease slightly.
"Remember the Founder's Day Dance?" Becky said, her voice lighter now, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "When I accidentally tripped her into the punch bowl?"
Avery couldn't help but chuckle at the memory, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Oh, Becky," he said, shaking his head. "You didn't just trip her. You gave her a good ol' fashioned Buzzard send-off."
Becky giggled, the sound like a melody in the oppressive silence of the barn. "Well, she had it coming, didn't she?" she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And the look on her face when she realized it was me!"
Avery couldn't help but laugh, the sound rumbling from his chest like distant thunder. "It was priceless," he agreed, the tension between them dissipating like the storm clouds. "And the way she squawked when she came up out of that punch bowl, feathers soaked and her wig askew... she thought that she was going to have a heart attack right there."
Becky chuckled, her eyes shining with the warmth of the memory. "And when Sheriff HawkTail told her to grow up and stop acting like a child because she never got her way, oh, how she threw a fit!" she said, mimicking Edna's indignant stomping and flapping. "It was like watching a chicken whose tail feathers had been plucked out."
Avery couldn't hold back his laughter any longer, his feathers shaking with mirth. "And that face she made when she realized we weren't going to back down," he said, wiping at his eyes. "It was priceless, Becky. Priceless."
Becky joined in, her laughter pealing through the barn. "Oh, how she squawked," she said, mimicking Edna's voice. " 'This isn't over, Becky Buzzard! I'll see you in court!' "
The sound of their shared laughter was a balm to their souls, a gentle reminder of the love and strength that bound them together. With the storm approaching, they knew it was time to get inside and prepare for what was to come. They gathered their supplies and made their way into the house, the warmth of their laughter chasing away the chill of the impending storm.
Baron squawked in hunger, his tiny eyes peering up at Becky as she carried him inside. She cradled him close to her chest, feeling his warmth as she decided to make some tea. It was a small comfort, but in moments like these, the little things meant so much.
Avery nodded in approval, setting the sack down by the door. "Good call," he said, his eyes reflecting the warm glow of the candles that Becky had already lit around the room.
The kitchen was a cozy nook, filled with the scent of spices and the faint aroma of Becky's famous apple pie. She put Baron in his wooden crib, lined with soft fabric, and he quieted down immediately, his eyes drooping with the promise of sleep. Avery took the matches from the mantel and knelt by the fireplace, striking one against the stone. The flint sparked, and a small flame danced to life, growing with each piece of kindling he added. Becky put the kettle on the stove, filling it with water from the barrel. She rummaged through the cupboard, her beak nudging aside various herbs and teas until she found the perfect blend—chamomile and mint. The scent filled the room, a gentle contrast to the gathering storm outside. She placed the kettle on the iron hook over the fire, watching as the water began to bubble and steam.
Avery took a seat at the small wooden table, his eyes on Baron. The baby's eyes had closed, lulled by the warmth and the rhythmic sound of Becky's movements. He knew that his wife had a knack for making even the most mundane tasks seem like an act of love. It was one of the many reasons he had fallen for her, and it was moments like these that made him feel like the luckiest buzzard in the West. He looked around their small but cozy house, the walls lined with bookshelves Becky had painstakingly assembled from scrap wood. The floor was swept clean, and the fireplace crackled with the welcoming embrace of a familiar dance of flames. It wasn't a wealthy farmhouse or a grand mansion, but it was theirs. It was where they had brought Baron into the world, where they had watched him grow from a tiny hatchling to a curious and adventurous little bird.
"You know, Becky," Avery said, his eyes still on their son, "I truly feel like the luckiest buzzard in the West." His voice was soft, almost a whisper, as if he didn't want to disturb the tranquility of the moment. "This little place we've made here... it's more than I ever could've hoped for."
Becky turned from the stove, a warm smile spreading across her face. "It's not much, Avery," she said, her eyes misting over slightly. "But it's home."
Avery nodded, his gaze still lingering on Baron. "Yeah," he murmured. "It's home."
The storm had passed quickly, leaving the air clean and crisp. The sound of rain pattering against the roof had given way to the distant murmur of the now-soothed creek. The candles had burned low, casting a warm glow over the small table where Becky had set out a simple meal of cornbread and stew with cold water to drink, a silent testament to her love and care.
As they sat down to eat, the front door creaked open, and in hopped Clover Cottontail, her fur damp from the rain. Becky's eyes widened, and Avery shot to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor. "Clover," he said, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and concern. "What brings you out in this weather?"
"Good evening, Avery, Becky," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Sorry to interrupt your supper time like this, but I've got the most wonderful news. The egg at the HawkTail ranch has finally hatched!"
Becky's heart skipped a beat, her hand flying to her mouth. "The egg?" she repeated, her eyes wide. "The one Clarence had been waiting for?"
Clover nodded, her whiskers twitching with excitement. "Yes," she said, her voice filled with glee. "It's a beautiful little hawk, the spitting image of its father. Clarence sent me to fetch you right away. He said Ruby's been asking for you."
Baron's eyes snapped open at the mention of a new baby, and he let out a curious cheep. Becky looked at Avery, her own excitement mirrored in his eyes. "We'll be right there," she said, already untying her apron. "Just let us grab our coats."
They stepped outside, the crisp air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the house. The rain had settled into a gentle patter, turning the dusty earth into a quagmire. They waded through the mud, their coats held tightly around them, Baron nestled safely in Becky's arms. The journey to the HawkTail ranch was a short one, but the anticipation grew with every step.
The ranch was a well-kept place, a bastion of order in the outskirts of High Wind Gulch. The fence was mended, the porch swept clean, and the windows gleamed with the light of the candles within. Avery knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the quiet night. It swung open almost immediately, revealing the warm, welcoming face of Clarence HawkTail.
"Avery, Becky," Clarence said, his voice a mix of exhaustion and excitement. "Thank you for coming." He stepped aside, allowing them to enter the cozy parlor. The air was thick with the scent of new life and the faint tang of antiseptic from Dr. Hare's medical kit.
Ruby looked up, her eyes shining with unshed tears, cradling a small bundle in her arms. "Look," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's a girl."
Becky's heart melted at the sight of the tiny hawk, wrapped in a soft, white blanket. The baby had a smattering of short, dark brown hair on her head, and her eyes were a deep, soulful brown that seemed to look right through you. Avery stepped closer; his own eyes wide with wonder. "She's beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
Ruby looked up at Avery, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. "You have no idea what your words mean to me."
Clarence nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at Becky. "Ruby's been worried about what to name her," he said, his voice tinged with weariness. "She wants something special, something that captures the spirit of this moment."
Ruby looked up at Becky, her eyes searching as she then turned to Clarence. "Clarence, do you remember what you said weeks ago?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "When you told that drunkard to leave Becky alone?"
Clarence nodded, a soft smile playing on his beak. "I said that every creature deserves respect, especially in their own town," he replied, his voice filled with the same conviction he had that day.
Ruby looked at Avery and Becky then, her eyes brimming with tears. "That's it," she said, her voice shaking. "Her name is Harmony. It's perfect." Clarence's expression softened, and he reached over to stroke Ruby's arm, a silent gesture of support and agreement.
"Harmony," Becky murmured, looking down at the baby with a gentle smile. "It's a beautiful name."
Ruby nodded, her eyes shining with tears. "Thank you, Becky," she said, her voice trembling. "I know she'll grow up big and strong."
Becky held Baron closer to her chest, his eyes wide with curiosity as he stared at the tiny hawk. "You can say hello to her," Ruby offered, leaning down slightly.
Baron tilted his head to the side, his neck stretching out as he peered into the bundle. His eyes grew even wider when he saw the newborn hawk, her eyes tightly shut and a soft tuft of brown feathers poking out from under the blanket. He opened his beak to squawk a greeting, but Becky quickly covered it with her wing, whispering a soft, "Hush, now."
The room erupted in laughter, a warm sound that filled the space and chased away any lingering tension from the storm outside. Clarence chuckled, his chest rumbling with the sound. "Looks like we've got ourselves a little peacemaker," he said, nodding at Baron.
Finally, after months of suffering from writer's block, I have updated this story. How? Let's just say I finally found a solution to help solve my problems of being stuck and short on ideas for future chapters, but I won't tell you what it is just yet. But I'm so happy to have found what will help me in the next chapter and the ones ahead which shouldn't even be that hard to do. I promise that from now on, with the program that's helping me, that should give me more ideas, tips, and solutions on how to create the other upcoming fanfictions I never had the chance to get started on, unable to find inspiration and help from anyone or anything. Stay tuned for the next chapter which is about time passing by as Baron is growing.