My cousin, Felicity, never spent more than a weekend here. I could barely breathe as disbelief washed over me.
How many mornings did I rise before dawn to help Grandma with the animals or plants?
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How many long days did I spend in the fields, the sun burning my skin, while Felicity used the farm as nothing more than a picturesque background for her social media?
“Are you okay, Diana?” the lawyer asked gently, breaking the silence.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. He handed me a letter, and my hands shook as I opened it.
Grandma’s handwriting, neat and familiar, danced before my eyes:
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“My dearest Diana,
If you are reading this, the time has come for a choice. I know you love this farm, and it has been a part of you as much as it was a part of me. But I needed to be sure that it’s true caretaker would emerge. I have left the farm to Felicity, but I have also granted you the right to live here for as long as you wish.
As long as you remain on the farm, it cannot be sold. Please be patient, my dear. The second part of my will shall be revealed in three months.
Love,
Grandma”
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I felt a sharp sting in my chest.
Why didn’t she leave the farm to me outright?
It felt like a test, as if she was questioning my dedication. A part of me felt deeply hurt.
Didn’t she trust me?
I glanced over at Felicity, her eyes already gleaming with excitement. She was whispering with her husband, Jack. I couldn’t hear everything, but snippets of their conversation floated over.
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“Sell it… quick profit… developers…”
They didn’t even care. It was all just numbers to them. I couldn’t stand it.
“Take the money, Diana. And leave this place,” Felicity offered me later.
“It’s a generous amount. You could have a nice place in the city.”
My voice came out icy.
“This isn’t about money, Felicity. It’s about family.”
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Felicity shrugged, already disinterested. To her, this was just business. But to me, this farm was my childhood, the place where Grandma taught me about hard work and love.
That night, I lay awake, memories of the farm swirling in my mind. I knew what I had to do. By morning, I had requested a leave of absence from my city job. I needed to be here, to feel the earth beneath my feet, to stall their plans.
Felicity handed me the keys with a smirk. She was eager to leave the responsibilities behind.
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***
The days on the farm were a whirlwind of chores. Every morning, I dragged myself out of bed before dawn, groaning at the thought of the tasks ahead.
As I fed the cows, I muttered to myself, “How did Grandma do this every day?”
“Morning, Daisy,” I said to the cow closest to me, giving her a scratch behind the ears. “Ready for breakfast?”
She nudged me gently, her eyes warm and trusting.
“You’re the only one who listens to me, you know that?”
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It was a small comfort in the endless cycle of work, but it kept me going. I rushed around, feeding the chickens and making sure the goats were settled. By the time I finished, I was already thinking of the next task.
When I finally got to fixing the fence, I heard Mr. Harris approaching.
“Need help again?” he asked with a kind smile.
“Mr. Harris,” I sighed in relief, “you’re a lifesaver. I think this fence has a grudge against me.”
He chuckled, setting down his toolbox.
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“Nah, it just needs a firm hand. You gotta show it who’s boss.”
He started working on the fence, showing me how to reinforce the posts.
“Your grandma used to say, ‘A good fence makes a happy farm.'”
“She never told me it would make me lose my mind,” I muttered, wiping sweat from my brow.
He laughed. “She didn’t want to scare you off. But you’re doing good, Diana. You care, and that’s half the battle.”
“Half the battle? What’s the other half?” I asked, genuinely curious.
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He looked at me with a thoughtful expression.
“Sticking it out when things get tough. This farm isn’t just land, you know. It’s got a soul.”
I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. “I just hope I’m doing it justice.”
He patted my shoulder. “You are. More than you know.”
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***
Later that evening, as the sky turned a smoky orange, I smelled something strange.
Smoke?
I turned toward the farmhouse and froze. Flames were licking the roof, growing taller and more furious by the second.
“No! No!”
I dropped everything and ran, screaming at the top of my lungs. “Fire! Someone, help!”
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Neighbors rushed over, but the fire was too fast, too hungry. Mr. Harris grabbed my arm as I tried to get closer.
“Diana, it’s too dangerous!”
“But the animals…” I started.
“They’re safe,” he assured me.
“Focus, Diana. You did your part. The animals are safe.”
I watched helplessly as the house burned to the ground. My eyes were wide, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
“It’s all gone,” I whispered.
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***
The next morning, Felicity showed up. She glanced at the wreckage and shrugged.
“Well, this changes things, doesn’t it?”
“Felicity,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady, “the house is gone, but the farm… it’s still here.”
She crossed her arms and smirked.
“And that’s exactly why it’s time to sell. Look around, Diana. This place is a disaster. It’s not worth the trouble.”
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I shook my head, my hands clenched at my sides. “You don’t understand. This is more than just land.”
“To you, maybe,” she said coolly.
“But to the rest of us? It’s a money pit. So, when are you planning to leave?”
“I’m not leaving,” I shot back. “This is my home.”
Felicity rolled her eyes.
“Be reasonable. You’ve lost your job. You’re living in a barn, Diana. A barn.”
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“I’ll figure it out,” I insisted, my jaw set.
She gave me a pitying look.
“You’re being stubborn. There’s nothing left here. Accept it and move on.”
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, stunned and seething. I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and dialed my boss. The line rang and rang before he picked up.
“Diana, you’re late on your return,” he said without preamble.
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“I need more time,” I blurted out. “There was a fire. The house is gone.”
There was a pause. “I’m sorry to hear that, but we need you back by Monday.”
“Monday?” I choked out. “That’s… I can’t be back by then.”
“Then I’m afraid we can’t hold your position any longer.”
“Wait, please…” I started, but the line went dead.
Mr. Harris approached quietly.
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“You alright?”
“No,” I whispered. “I’m not. But I’ll be fine. Somehow.”
He nodded, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“You’re stronger than you think, Diana. And this farm? It’s stronger, too. Don’t give up just yet.”
I looked at the barn, the animals, the smoldering remains of the farmhouse. Felicity wanted me gone, but this place was my heart.
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“I’m not leaving,” I repeated, this time with more conviction.
“You can’t stay here like this,” Mr. Harris said gently. “I have a spare room at my place. You can stay there until you figure things out.”
His kindness nearly broke me.
“Thank you, Jack.”
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***
The weeks that followed were the hardest of my life. Every morning, I rose with the sun, my body aching from the previous day’s hard work. The farm had become a battlefield, and I was its soldier.
I repaired fences that had nearly crumbled, tilled the soil, and planted crops with my own hands. The animals became my constant companions; they were my mornings, my afternoons, my nights. They looked to me for care, and in turn, they gave me purpose.
Mr. Harris, Jack, was always there, showing up with tools, advice, and sometimes just a kind word.
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“This fence again, huh?” he’d say with a grin, rolling up his sleeves to help.
He taught me more than I could have learned from any book—how to read the land, listen to the animals, know when a storm was coming just by the feel of the air.
One evening, after a long day of work, we sat on the porch, the air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass.
“You’ve done good, Diana,” Jack said, looking over the fields. “Your grandma would be proud.”
I nodded, staring at the horizon.
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“I finally understand. Why she did what she did.”
“She knew this place needed someone who’d love it as much as she did,” Jack replied. “And that someone was always you.”
The farm became my world. It filled the void that my job and city life had left behind.
