UNBROKEN PROMISE

~12~ Morning

Oma's POV

The next morning, I woke up to the first light of dawn. The faint glimmer of sunlight seeped through the curtains, casting soft, golden rays across the room. My body still ached from the day before, but I pushed the feeling aside and slipped out of bed, determined to start the day as early as I could. I had breakfast to prepare, and I didn't want to keep Logan waiting.

After washing up and quickly getting dressed, I made my way to the kitchen. To my surprise, Logan was already there, standing by the stove, his back to me as he filled a kettle with water. He turned when he heard me approach, his usual calm, unreadable expression on his face.

"Good mornin'," he greeted me, his voice low and steady.

"Good morning," I replied, trying to match his tone. I was still getting used to these early mornings and the quiet rhythm of farm life.

He handed me a small metal pail. "We're gonna collect some eggs and milk this mornin'. Come with me."

I followed him outside, the cool morning air a sharp contrast to the warmth of the house. The sky was still tinged with the soft pinks and oranges of sunrise, and everything felt peaceful. We walked toward the chicken coop, the faint clucking of the hens growing louder as we approached.

Logan stopped by the coop and turned to me, his  blue eyes focused on mine as he explained. "There's a few chickens we're keepin' just for eggs. They're off-limits for now. But any of the others, you can use 'em for cookin' if need be. Understand?"

I nodded. "Yes, I understand."

He opened the coop, and I stepped inside with him, the smell of hay and feathers filling the air. The hens rustled and clucked around us as we moved toward the nesting boxes. Logan showed me how to carefully lift the hens off the eggs, explaining that some of them would try to peck if they didn't want to move.

"Just be gentle," he said, demonstrating as he lifted a particularly feisty hen off her nest. "They'll settle down after a bit."

I watched closely as he collected the eggs, placing them gently into the pail. When it was my turn, I mimicked his movements, trying to be as gentle as possible. It was slow going at first, but soon I got the hang of it. Logan watched me closely, his arms crossed over his chest, but he didn't say anything more.

Once we had gathered enough eggs, Logan led me over to our personal barn, where the cows were kept. I had never milked a cow before, and I wasn't sure what to expect, but Logan's calm demeanor reassured me. He showed me how to sit beside the cow, how to hold the udder, and the technique for milking.

"You need to be firm, but not too rough," he explained, his hands working the cow's udder with ease. "Just like this. Give it a try."

I sat down beside the cow, trying to mimic the movements Logan had shown me. It felt strange at first, but Logan's patient guidance helped me through it. After a few tries, I managed to get the milk flowing steadily into the pail.

"You gettin' the hang of it?" Logan asked, his tone more relaxed than usual.

"Yeah, I think so," I replied, feeling a small surge of pride.

He nodded, satisfied. "Good. We'll be doin' this every morning, so you'll get plenty of practice."

Once we had enough milk, Logan carried the pail, and we made our way back toward the house. Along the way, he pointed out different things on the farm-the water pump, and a few storage sheds where they kept supplies.

As we reached the back of the house, Logan stopped by the pantry, opening the door to show me the rows of shelves filled with jars of preserved vegetables, sacks of flour, and other goods.