Seeing the anxious expression on her husband’s face, Emily immediately asked:
— What’s wrong, darling? Is there some trouble at the farm?
James sat on the edge of the sofa and replied calmly, as if setbacks were routine for him:
— Well, it’s just… I’ve been seeing things lately, and the cows have been acting restless. Today, it seemed like wolves were prowling around, though no one’s seen them here in probably twenty years. I should talk to Michael about organizing a hunt.
Hearing the name of the hunter, who wasn’t well-respected in their village, Emily threw up her hands.
— Why would you get involved with him? You’ll only bring more trouble on yourself. The locals say such things about him that it makes your ears curl. I’m begging you, James, let it go. Ask our neighbor, Thomas, instead. He’s not a hunter, but he knows the habits of wild animals inside out.
Looking at his wife, James put his arm around her shoulders and said:
— You think that biologist is going to help me? He jumps at the sight of a small stray dog, and we’re talking wolves here. No, Emily, this calls for a professional. And anyway, why do you always suggest things that don’t suit me? Alright, let’s eat; I’m starving.
Setting a bowl of hearty stew in front of him, Emily pressed her point.
— Still, talk to Thomas. He might have some useful advice. Maybe it’s not wolves at all—you know how those cows are.
In the morning, as he prepared to head to the farm, James thought it over and decided to stop by the biologist’s place. Thomas worked as a biology teacher at the local school, which is why James often referred to him simply as “the biologist.”
— Hey, neighbor, how’s it going? Still teaching the kids some sense?
Frowning, Thomas replied seriously:
— Hey, James! Of course, especially since the kids love and respect my subject. They’re curious about the animal world. I always tell them biology is the queen of all sciences, and without it, you can’t get into any university in the country.
Scratching the back of his head, as if he’d been scolded in front of the whole class, James said sheepishly:
— Wow, you’re really something! Listen, Thomas, I’ve got a favor to ask. My wife suggested you might be able to help. The cows at the farm have been acting strange—not exactly scared, but definitely uneasy. Maybe they’re sick or something; I’m at a loss.
Thomas looked at James attentively.
— Interesting… There’s got to be a reason. Tell me more—what’s been going on at your place?
Glancing at his watch, James asked:
— Won’t you be late for your classes?
Thomas replied calmly:
— Nah, I’ve only got extracurriculars today, and they’re after lunch.
Raising his eyebrows, James laughed.
— Then why are you up so early? Missing the school already?
Thomas shook his head and, stepping closer, said evenly:
— You could say that, but if you keep joking around, you might miss out on my help.
James dialed it back.
— Alright, alright, I didn’t mean it like that. I suspect wolves might be showing up around here. I’d like you to take a look and give me your verdict.
Waving him off, Thomas climbed into the car without waiting for an invitation.
— Are we going, or are you just going to stand there like a post?
Whistling in surprise, James slid into the driver’s seat.
— Man, you’re quick! Even I don’t move that fast. Alright, buckle up, or the wind might blow you away.
James floored the gas pedal, and the car lurched forward, speeding toward the farm. They rode in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, pulling up to the farm’s gate, James said:
— Here we are. We’ll walk from here. By the way, you can start looking around now—maybe you’ll spot tracks of some unwelcome critters.
Thomas didn’t respond and headed straight for the barns where the cows were kept. For nearly half an hour, he meticulously studied the ground.
— Here’s the deal, James: no wolves have been visiting you. But if they had, they wouldn’t have left without taking something.
James put his hands on his hips and asked irritably:
— What’s that supposed to mean, Thomas? You think I’m losing my mind? If it’s not wolves, then who’s spooking my cows? A ghost?
Thomas, with a knowing look, pointed to the ground near the barn.
— Look, there’s a faint boot print. Do you really think wolves wear shoes? No, this is a human track, but it’s small—either a kid’s or maybe a very short adult. An average grown-up’s foot is much bigger. If you don’t believe me, compare it to your boots.
James lifted his foot to check.
— You’re right, my shoes are way bigger. But I still don’t get it—where would a kid come from? The farm’s pretty far from the village, and kids don’t come out here. Alright, let’s go. I’ll treat you to some tea and pies; my wife packed them, and I can’t eat them all myself.
Sitting at the table in James’s farm office, Thomas brought up the footprint again.
— I think some local kids have been sneaking onto your farm. If I get a chance, I’ll ask my students about it. Maybe someone’s been talking about the farm or planning a little adventure. You know how kids are—bored after school, so they find their own excitement.
Nodding, James said:
— I agree. I was a restless kid myself—my parents were always searching for me around the village. But I still don’t get how a kid could scare my cows. I remember when Emily brought her nephews to the farm, and not a single cow batted an eye. No, Thomas, it’s not just about that footprint. Cows don’t get worked up for no reason; something’s definitely bothering them.
Slapping the table, Thomas said:
— Almost forgot—I noticed a makeshift bed in your barn, where you store the hay. If you still think it’s wolves, it looks like they’re sleeping with your cows sometimes.
Not believing his ears, James checked the barn next door.
— Well, I’ll be… there’s actually a bed. Who could’ve set that up? Not wolves, surely?
In the far corner of the barn, there was indeed a sort of nest: flattened straw in a circle with a matted pile shaped like a pillow. Standing nearby, Thomas said cautiously:
— I don’t know who it could be, but it’s definitely not a wild animal. A predator wouldn’t just lie calmly on straw—trust me, it would’ve satisfied its hunger.
James grew slightly wary.
— True enough! So, what’s your take? What do we do next?
Thomas raised his eyebrows in surprise.
— What do you mean? You expect me to move onto your farm and stand guard?
James clapped him on the shoulder and said:
— No, no one’s guarding anything. I’ve got a watchman for that. He’s in the shack by the fence—come on, I’ll introduce you.
A middle-aged man stepped out of a small wooden shed to greet them.
— Morning, Mr. James! So, did you do the rounds?
Shaking his hand, James said:
— Meet Thomas, our biology teacher and a big expert on wild animals. He says there’s no sign of wolves here.
Turning to Thomas, the watchman said:
— Glad to meet an educated man. I’m Daniel. And you’re right about the predators—there haven’t been any around. At least, I haven’t seen any, and I’ve been working here a long time.
Shrugging, James returned to the conversation.
— Well, if there are no wolves, that’s a relief, right, Thomas?
Back at the car, Thomas said almost in a whisper:
— You could’ve skipped the formalities; we’re the same age. As for the wolves you thought you saw, they’re not here. We saw tracks, but they’re human—likely a child’s. That’s what we need to figure out. It might be local kids messing around. If that’s the case, I’ll have to come up with a way to keep them from coming back. The last thing we need is your watchman mistaking them for thieves and blasting them with rock salt.
An hour later, they were back in the village. To save a trip, James dropped Thomas off at the school before heading home, where he told Emily everything he’d seen at the farm.
Filling his cup with tea, she said thoughtfully:
— If it’s not wolves causing trouble, then it’s definitely kids. But why would they go out there, especially at this time of year?
A light snow had started falling outside, and James, watching it, nodded and said:
— Exactly. It’s winter, and they’re out there despite the cold. You know how I feel about my cows—I’m worried.
Emily hugged her husband and said:
— Stop worrying, dear! You’ve already figured out it’s not wolves. And if kids are playing around, they’re not hurting the cows.
James nodded in agreement.
— Fine, maybe so. But I still asked Thomas to have a talk with them. There’s a watchman at the farm—what if he gets spooked and mistakes them for trouble? I don’t need problems, especially with the law.
With that, they dropped the farm talk and sat down to eat. Emily had made delicious pilaf. Scooping up rice and meat, James was still deep in thought, which worried his wife. She gently asked:
— What’s bothering your clever head now?
Looking out the window, where darkness had settled, James said:
— I need to head back to the farm and check things out myself. I’ll also make sure the watchman’s not sleeping on the job—if he is, he’s in for it.
Emily sighed.
— James, have you seen the time? It’s almost nine in the evening. Are you planning to spend the night there?
He gave her a pleading look, and her heart ached.
— Alright, go check on your cows, tuck them in, and wish them goodnight. Just don’t stay too long—the frost is getting worse.
Dressing warmly, James warmed up the car and sped off to the farm. The watchman greeted him in high spirits.
— Wow, Mr. James, out here this late? Did you forget something? By the way, I sent all the workers home early, as we agreed.
Nodding, James headed to the barn where he and Thomas had found the makeshift bed earlier. He flipped on the light and carefully walked to the back. He immediately noticed someone was there—the hay wasn’t how they’d left it.
— Hey, who’s there? Come out!
He heard rustling in the distance, but no one answered.
“Probably just a stray dog keeping warm—let it be,” James thought.
But as he neared the exit, he suddenly heard a child’s cry. He rushed to the pile of hay and frantically tossed it aside. Sure enough, there was a little girl, poorly dressed, shivering from the cold and sobbing, covering her face with tiny hands. Scooping her up, James wrapped her in his jacket and ran to the warm watchman’s shack.
— Daniel, we’ve got company! Hurry, the kid’s freezing!
Wrapping the girl in a blanket and pouring her a mug of hot tea, Daniel asked:
— Good Lord, where did you come from, and how did you end up at the farm?
In a trembling voice, the girl replied:
— Please, don’t send me back! I don’t want to go home to my mom!
After warming and feeding her, James and Daniel learned that the girl’s mother was a heavy drinker. When drunk, she’d chase the girl around the house, mistaking her for demons, and smash everything in sight. Worse, she brought strange men home and continued her drunken antics with them. The house was always freezing, with no food, so the girl wandered off. She stumbled upon the farm and started sleeping in the hay barn. In the mornings, she’d sneak back home, weaving through her mother’s passed-out guests. If there were any leftovers from the previous night’s partying, she’d eat them, but that was rare—the guests usually devoured everything.
James and Daniel listened to the horrifying story, chills running down their spines. They couldn’t fathom a mother treating her child this way. Leaving the girl with Daniel, James started the car and drove to the address she’d given. It turned out she lived in a neighboring village, just over a mile from the farm.
“How did she have the strength to make that trek?” James wondered the whole way.
When he arrived at the house, he nearly fainted. The place looked dilapidated: the yard was littered with old junk, and the porch had long since collapsed from age. Pushing open the barely closed door, he stepped inside. The stench of stale liquor hit him immediately. In the kitchen, he almost tripped over the mother, who was sprawled on the floor, muttering incoherently. In the next room, a man lay by the bed. Whether he was the girl’s father, James didn’t know yet. To get answers, he fetched a bucket of ice-cold water from the well and doused them both. They sobered up instantly.
— What the hell are you doing, and how’d you get in here? they demanded.
James had no patience for their nonsense and cut to the chase:
— Where’s your daughter? What’s her name?
In the rush, he hadn’t even asked the girl her name. The mother sat up on the floor and slurred:
— Probably out playing, our Lily. When she gets back, I’ll put her in the corner—she’s gotten completely out of hand, that troublemaker.
So, the girl’s name was Lillian. Clenching his fists in anger, James said:
— I’ll deal with you later, but first, I’ve got someone else to see.
Without delay, he started the car and raced back to the village. Instead of going home, he went straight to Thomas’s house. The biologist was slow to grasp what James wanted.
— No way! A kid out in this cold? She could’ve frozen to death!
Nodding, James nearly shouted:
— That’s what I’m telling you! Get dressed quick, and let’s go—you’ll see for yourself.
At the farm, James dropped Thomas off and pointed to the watchman’s shack.
— Go meet her. Maybe you’ll figure out why I dragged you out in the dark.
Thomas opened the door and stepped inside. Seeing the girl, he exclaimed:
— Lily? It can’t be!
But the girl was fast asleep, wrapped in a blanket by the warm stove. Realizing it wasn’t the time for questions, Thomas stepped out and headed to the car. As he sat down, James turned to him, seething:
— Now we’re going to where she came from. Just don’t faint.
Ignoring the bumps and potholes, James sped along. When they stopped, Thomas rushed into the house and nearly collapsed from the heavy stench. The parents were still sprawled on the floor, but the mother stirred first.
— Get out of here! This is our house!
Thomas stepped closer, tears streaming down his face.
— How can you live like this? Your daughter nearly froze to death!
His words barely registered. James took over.
— Alright, you damned drunks, confess—who sent that kid out into the cold?
Dragging them into one room, James sat on an old stool and, nudging them with his foot, continued:
— What, nothing to say? Think I’ll just leave? No, you parasites, I’ll shake the truth out of you.
Thomas tried to intervene, but James shot him a fierce look and growled:
— Call the local sheriff and get him out here. Then go back to the farm and take the girl to my place. I’ll call Emily to let her know. The keys are in the car—you’ll figure it out.
Thomas followed orders, waiting for the sheriff, who wrote up a report, then took his car to pick up the girl. Pausing at the door, the sheriff glanced at James and said:
— Just make sure there’s no evidence, or you’ll have hell to pay with the law.
By the next day, the whole area was buzzing with news of how James had dealt with the neglectful parents. No one could believe he’d gone that far: he’d chained them up and forced them to work on the farm to make them realize the gravity of their actions. But it didn’t last long—soon, officials from the county showed up, along with human rights advocates. James had to let the deadbeats go to avoid being dragged through the courts. Still, the girl was removed from the family. They planned to send her to an orphanage, but Thomas convinced them to let him take her in temporarily. The authorities agreed, and for the duration of the investigation, Lillian stayed with him. As for the parents, they were soon stripped of their parental rights. Without hesitation, Thomas filed for official guardianship.
A month later, his request was approved in a special hearing. Now Lillian lives with him, cared for by his mother, Thomas’s grandmother. She hasn’t forgotten how James saved her that freezing night and gave her rescuer a drawing. In it, she depicted James with his beloved cows. He thanked her for the gift and promised to bring her to the farm more often in the summer.
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