When Grandma passed, I thought the farm would be mine. After all, I’d spent so many years of my life here, working the land with her, learning from her. But instead, it went to my cousin Felicity, a girl who saw everything through the lens of dollar signs. All I got was a cryptic letter and the chance to stay on the farm—just for now. But I knew this wasn’t the end. There was something more behind this decision, and I was determined to uncover the truth, no matter what it took.
The lawyer’s voice faded as he finished reading the will, but the words he left behind echoed in my mind. I felt a tightness in my chest, as though a cold, heavy hand was squeezing my heart. The farm—the one thing that had been the heart and soul of our family—was now Felicity’s.
My cousin, Felicity, had always treated the farm like a place for Instagram photos, never spending more than a weekend here. How many times had I woken up before dawn to feed the animals, take care of the crops, and learn the land?
How many days did I spend in the sun, working my hands raw, while Felicity just used the farm as a pretty backdrop to post on social media?
I couldn’t help but ask myself over and over, “How could Grandma give it all to her?”
The lawyer broke the silence, his voice gentle but firm, “Are you okay, Diana? Your grandmother loved you more than anyone else…”
He handed me a letter, and my hands trembled as I opened it. Grandma’s handwriting was familiar, like an old friend. The words danced in front of my eyes, but I managed to read them, feeling an odd sense of hope mixed with confusion.
“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 as much a part of you as it was a part of me. But I needed to be sure that its 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.”
My heart sank. Why hadn’t she just left it to me outright? Did she not trust me? I glanced at Felicity, who was already whispering excitedly to her husband, Jack. I couldn’t hear everything, but I caught a few words.
“Sell it… quick profit… developers…”
It was clear they didn’t care about the farm. It was just another number on a ledger to them. It made me sick to my stomach.
Felicity approached me later, a smile plastered on her face, but there was no warmth behind it. “Take the money, Diana,” she said coolly, “and leave this place. It’s a generous offer. You could live somewhere nice, somewhere… better.”
“This isn’t about money, Felicity. It’s about family,” I snapped back, my voice steady despite the anger bubbling inside me.
Felicity shrugged, as though she’d heard it all before. “Suit yourself,” she said, already turning her attention elsewhere. To her, the farm was just a business transaction. But to me, it was home. It was everything.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was filled with the farm, with Grandma, and the life I’d lived here. I knew what I had to do. By morning, I’d already called in a leave of absence from my city job. The farm needed me now, and I needed to be here.
Felicity handed me the keys with that same smug grin. She couldn’t wait to wash her hands of it all.
The days that followed were exhausting, overwhelming, and at times, painful. Each morning, I dragged myself out of bed before dawn, the cold ground beneath my feet waking me up more than any alarm ever could.
As I fed the cows, I couldn’t help but wonder, How did Grandma do this every day?
“Morning, Daisy,” I said to the cow closest to me, giving her a scratch behind her ears. “Ready for breakfast?”
She nudged me gently, as if to say, Yes, but hurry up!
“You’re the only one who listens to me,” I said with a sigh, a smile tugging at my lips. It was a small comfort in the midst of the work, but it kept me going. I moved quickly, feeding the chickens, checking on the goats, and making sure everything was in order. There was always something else to do, another task to check off the list.
By the time I got to the fence that needed fixing, I heard footsteps approaching.
“Need help again?” Mr. Harris called out, his voice familiar and warm.
“Mr. Harris, you’re a lifesaver,” I said, wiping my hands on my jeans. “This fence is out to get me.”
He chuckled, setting down his toolbox. “Nah, it just needs a firm hand. You gotta show it who’s boss.”
He started working on the posts, teaching me how to reinforce them properly.
“Your grandma used to say, ‘A good fence makes a happy farm,’” he said, his eyes glinting with fondness.
“Well, she never told me that building one would make me lose my mind,” I muttered, wiping the sweat from my brow.
He laughed. “She didn’t want to scare you off. But you’re doing great, Diana. You care, and that’s half the battle.”
“Half the battle?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Mr. Harris gave me a thoughtful look as he worked. “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 form in my throat. “I just hope I’m doing it justice.”
He patted my shoulder, a gesture of quiet reassurance. “You are. More than you know.”
That evening, as the sky turned a smoky orange, I caught a strange smell in the air.
Smoke?
I froze, turning toward the farmhouse. My heart lurched as I saw flames creeping up the roof, the fire growing taller and faster with each passing second.
“No! No!”
I ran toward the house, screaming at the top of my lungs, “Fire! Someone, help!”
Neighbors rushed over, but the fire spread too quickly. Mr. Harris grabbed my arm as I tried to get closer.
“Diana, it’s too dangerous!” he shouted over the chaos.
“But the animals…” I started to protest, panic rising in my chest.
“They’re safe,” he assured me, holding me back gently but firmly. “Focus, Diana. You did your part. The animals are safe.”
I watched, helpless and terrified, as the farmhouse burned to the ground. My heart felt like it had shattered into a thousand pieces. “It’s all gone,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the crackling flames.
The next morning, Felicity arrived. She glanced at the remains of the house, her face impassive. Then, she 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, the same cold look in her eyes. “And that’s exactly why it’s time to sell. Look around, Diana. This place is a disaster. It’s not worth the trouble.”
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, the edge in her voice clear.
“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, my voice full of determination. “This is my home.”
Felicity rolled her eyes. “Be reasonable. You’ve lost your job. You’re living in a barn, Diana. A barn.”
“I’ll figure it out,” I insisted, my jaw set with determination.
She gave me a pitying look, as though she were speaking to a child. “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 angry. I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking as I dialed my boss. The line rang, and I could feel the weight of the world pressing down on me.
“Diana, you’re late on your return,” he said curtly when he picked up.
“I need more time,” I blurted out, my voice desperate. “There was a fire. The house is gone.”
There was a long silence. Then, he said, “I’m sorry to hear that, but we need you back by Monday.”
“Monday?” I gasped, a lump forming in my throat. “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 appeared beside me, his presence calm and steady.
“You alright?” he asked softly.
“No,” I whispered. “I’m not. But I’ll be fine. Somehow.”
He nodded, his hand resting on my shoulder in a comforting gesture. “You’re stronger than you think, Diana. And this farm? It’s stronger too. Don’t give up just yet.”
I turned to look at the barn, the animals, and the smoldering remains of the house. Felicity wanted me gone, but this farm was my heart.
“I’m not leaving,” I said, my voice filled with newfound 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,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
The weeks that followed were the hardest of my life. Every day was a battle—against exhaustion, against doubt, and against the weight of everything that had happened. But as I worked the land, repairing fences, planting crops, and caring for the animals, something inside me began to change. The farm became my world. It gave me strength, gave me purpose.
Mr. Harris, Jack, was always there. Sometimes with advice, sometimes with a tool, and sometimes just with a kind word.
“This fence again, huh?” he’d say with a grin, rolling up his sleeves to help.
He taught me things I could never have learned from any book—how to listen to the land, to 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 thick with the scent of freshly cut grass.
“You’ve done good, Diana,” Jack said, his eyes scanning the fields. “Your grandma would be proud.”
I nodded, staring out at the horizon.
“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 said softly. “And that someone was always you.”
The farm was no longer just a place. It had become a part of me.
Finally, the day arrived for the second part of Grandma’s will to be read. My heart pounded as I walked into the lawyer’s office. Felicity was already there, sitting with her husband, looking smug. The tension in the room was palpable.
The lawyer opened the envelope and began to read aloud:
“My dear Felicity and Diana,
If you are hearing this, then the time has come for the farm to find its true guardian. Felicity, I know this may come as a surprise, but I always intended for the farm to belong to the one who truly cares for it…”
The lawyer paused, looking up at Felicity. She was about to protest when Jack stood up, his expression serious.
“I think it’s time we tell the truth,” Jack said, handing the lawyer a receipt.
The lawyer looked at the paper before reading aloud again. “This receipt shows that on the day of the fire, Felicity purchased gasoline from the local store…”
Felicity’s face drained of color. She jumped up, her voice shaking with anger. “This is ridiculous! She burned down the house! She’s a failure!”
Jack didn’t flinch. “We know the truth, Felicity. It’s time everyone else did, too.”
“I… Fine! Yes, it was me! Somebody had to help my sister move out!”
Felicity’s desperate attempt to cover her tracks crumbled as the truth came to light—she had set the fire, trying to force me out so she could sell the farm.
“Diana,” the lawyer said gently, his voice softer now, “the farm is officially yours.”
I stood there, numb but relieved. The farm, my home, was finally mine. I could feel Grandma’s presence everywhere—beneath my feet, in the wind, in the animals I cared for. I knew she’d always be with me, guiding me through.
One evening, as we sat on the porch again, Jack asked with a smile, “How about that dinner I promised you?”
I looked at him, my heart full. “You know what, Jack? I think I finally have the time.”
For the first time in months, I felt a spark of hope. Maybe this farm was my past, but with Jack by my side, maybe it could also be my future.
