"Surprises?" Emily's curiosity piqued.
"You'll see soon enough," Mr. Thompson gave a chuckle. "Follow me."
Mr. Thompson wasn't as tall as her uncle, but there was something solid about him. His hair was mostly gray, and soft wrinkles crinkled around his brown eyes. His hands were calloused from years of hard work, but he moved with a quiet grace.
He wore faded blue jeans, slightly frayed at the cuffs and knees, with a loose-fitting plaid button-down shirt, its colors muted from washes. Despite its wear, it was clean and neatly pressed.
Heavy-duty work boots, scuffed, stained with mud and grass, provided solid support for his feet. On his head he wore a slightly battered straw hat. The hat had a well-defined crease along the crown and a few stray pieces of straw poking out. Despite its weathered appearance, it sat with dignity.
In his pocket, a red bandana peeked out, ready to be used for wiping sweat or dust from his brow. His attire, though simple, exuded a sense of pride.
He walked through the farm, boots kicking up clouds of dust, he moved with a quiet confidence that commanded respect. His eyes, a keen brown, scanned the horizon, a gaze that missed nothing.
He introduced Emily to all the animals, from cows in the pasture to the chickens in their coop. The earthy scent of hay and manure mingled with the sweet aroma of nearby wildflowers, creating a heady mix that filled the air.
The farm was alive—with the lowing of cows, the clucking of chickens, the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Each animal had its own unique smell and distinct presence. The scent of cows was rich and musky, the chickens a sharper, pungent odor. A far cry from the artificial scents of the city, and while overpowering, it was a refreshing change.
Eventually, they reached a small open pasture where a cow stood quietly grazing, her rich brown coat gleaming in the sunlight.
"This here is Daisy," he said, nodding toward the cow. "She's my prize-winning beauty."
"She's beautiful," Emily breathed.
Slowly stepping closer, she could see the cow's muscles rippling under her smooth brown coat as she grazed, long lashes fluttering as she blinked.
"Daisy's special," Mr. Thompson smiled, "She's won more ribbons than any other of my cows and as gentle as they come."
Emily reached out hesitantly, her tiny fingers brushing against Daisy's warm, soft hide. The cow turned her head slightly, her large eyes met Emily's with calm curiosity.
"Pet her if you like," he encouraged. "She loves the attention."
With a deep breath, she gently stroked Daisy's side. She paused her hand, marveling at the cow's steady, rhythmic breathing.
"She's really—something," Emily said.
"She seems to like you," he chuckled, his voice reassuring.
Emily smiled, pressing her body against Daisy as if giving her a hug. "I think I like her too," she said softly.
As they walked back to the barn to find Uncle John, Emily turned to Mr. Thompson. "I'm just a visitor," she began, her voice wavering slightly as she found the courage. "Can I visit Daisy again? I promise not to get in your way."
Mr. Thompson turned to look back at the field where Daisy grazed peacefully. "I'm a busy man," he said, stroking his chin. "Daisy has her calendar free—so why not. But you have to get permission first, and I need a heads-up. Fair?"
Emily's eyes lit up; a huge grin spread across her face. "Thank you—thank you so much!"
"You're welcome. Daisy'll be happy to have a new friend." Mr. Thompson seemed pleased with himself.
Reaching the barn, they spotted John wiping his hands on a rag, with streaks of grease and dirt covering it. Looking up with a smile when he saw them approaching.
"Well, look who's back!" John said, setting the rag down. "How was it?"
Emily's face lit up, she practically bounced as she spoke. "It was amazing! Mr. Thompson said I can visit Daisy again!"
John raised an eyebrow as he glanced over at Mr. Thompson. "Well, isn't that something?"
Emily turned to her uncle. "Can I, Uncle John? Please?"
He scratched his chin thoughtfully, a playful grin spread across his face. "And Bessie, she might get jealous if you give all your attention to Daisy."
Emily giggled. "I'll make time for her too!"
Uncle John chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Are you sure?"
"Do you need help?" Emily offered a sly grin.
Uncle John's laughter filled the barn. "Is that a bribe? Are you offering to help with chores?"
She shrugged playfully. "Maybe."
"Well then," Uncle John said, still grinning, "I guess I could use an extra helping hand with some chores around the farm. Let's see if you are up to the challenge."
Emily nodded eagerly, "I'll do my best!"
"I expect nothing less," John replied.