
Rebecca arrives at the farm she inherited, ready to sell it and move on. But a stubborn farmhand refuses to let her make an easy sale. He challenges her at every turn, forcing her to confront not just him but the memories and responsibilities she thought she left behind. Their clash will decide the farm’s fate.
Early in the morning, Rebecca got into her car, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. This wasn’t part of her usual routine, but something unexpected had come up, and she had to deal with it.

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Leaving her small business in the hands of her assistant, she set off on a long drive, heading out of the busy city.
Rebecca was on her way to her late grandfather’s farm, which he had left to her in his will. She hadn’t been there in years. As a child, she spent summers there, running around and playing, but once she grew older her visits stopped.
Rebecca always assumed her grandfather would pass the farm on to one of his workers, someone who truly needed it. Now, she had no intention of running it herself. Her plan was simple—check things out, find a buyer, and sell it as quickly as possible.

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Rebecca parked near the farmhouse and stepped out, glancing around. As she turned, she noticed a man on the porch. He stood up quickly, smiling.
“Hey there,” he said. “You must be my new boss. I’m Derek.” He stepped forward, offering his hand.
Rebecca shook it, frowning slightly. Something about him seemed familiar. “Hi, Derek. But you’ve got it wrong. I’m not your boss.”
Derek tilted his head. “Well then, may I at least know the name of my non-boss?”

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“Oh,” Rebecca said, realizing she hadn’t introduced herself. “I’m Rebecca.”
“Wait a minute. Are you the same Rebecca who let all the chickens out so the dog could have fun?” He chuckled.
Rebecca’s eyes widened as the memory came back. Derek was the son of one of her grandfather’s workers, and they used to play together when she was little. “And you’re the same Derek who taught me to chase them with a slingshot?”
“Guilty as charged,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. They both laughed, easing the tension.

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Derek’s expression grew serious. “So, what do you mean you’re not my boss? The farm was left to you, right?”
Rebecca’s smile faded. “Yes, but I don’t plan to keep it. I’m here to sell it.”
“What? Sell it? To who?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said, shrugging. “Whoever wants to buy it.”

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“Even if they tear it down?” he asked.
“Well… yes.”
Derek stepped closer, his voice rising. “How could you do that? Your grandfather spent his life on this farm! It was everything to him.”
Rebecca felt a pang of guilt but tried to stand her ground. “He’s gone, Derek. And I have my own life. Being a farmer wasn’t part of my plan.”

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Derek’s eyes searched hers. “What about the animals? The people who work here? You’re just going to let them lose everything?”
She hesitated. “The new owner will handle that.”
Derek’s face darkened. “You don’t care at all, do you?”
“I care. It’s just… not my responsibility anymore,” she said quietly, turning to walk toward the house.

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Derek’s voice followed her. “You heartless witch!”
Rebecca winced but didn’t turn back. She quickened her pace, heading inside, trying to ignore the doubts his words stirred.
The next morning, Rebecca was startled awake by a knock on her door. She groggily got up and opened it to find a man standing on the porch.
“Good morning, Rebecca,” he said, nodding politely. “I’m Travis. I manage the fields here. Something’s happened, and I think you’ll want to see it.”

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Rebecca rubbed her eyes. “Morning. Just give me a moment to get dressed.”
She quickly threw on the first clothes she found, then followed Travis outside. They walked through the farm until they reached one of the main fields. Rebecca’s heart sank when she saw the crops. They looked weak, wilted, and sickly.
“What’s wrong with them?” she asked.
Travis sighed, his expression grim. “Hard to say. Maybe someone spread something to damage them. Could be competitors. But if we don’t act fast, we’ll lose the entire crop.”

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Rebecca’s face tightened. “I don’t care. I’m selling the farm. That’s my plan.”
Travis glanced at her. “You’d get a lot more money if you sold it as a working farm. Not just land.”
Rebecca knew he had a point. She hesitated, then asked, “So, what do you need from me?”
“I need an extra worker. One of our guys is out sick, and we don’t have enough hands,” Travis explained.

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“Alright,” Rebecca said. “I’ll find someone to help.”
Rebecca spent the entire day making phone calls, trying to find someone to hire. She went through a long list of contacts, but every answer was the same—nobody was available.
By evening, she was exhausted, her energy completely drained. She felt like a squeezed lemon, with nothing left to give.

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Tired and frustrated, Rebecca found herself wandering toward the stables. She remembered how, as a child, she would sit there for hours, surrounded by the soft sounds of the horses.
It always calmed her. She gently petted their noses, fed them some hay, and felt a wave of comfort wash over her. She sighed, thinking, who would have imagined this farm could bring her so many problems?
“Oh, I didn’t know princesses visited stables,” Derek said, his tone icy as he stepped inside.

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Rebecca turned, frowning. “What’s with the attitude?”
Derek folded his arms. “How else should I talk to someone who doesn’t care?”
“For your information, I spent all day trying to find a worker for Travis,” she snapped. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain herself, but his accusation stung.
Derek’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “So you can sell the farm for a better price. That’s what Travis said.”

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Rebecca rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the guilt building inside her.
“I can help Travis,” Derek said, “but I need support with the livestock. That’s my job.”
“There’s no one available to work,” she said.
Derek stepped closer, his gaze steady. “You could help.”

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Rebecca blinked, surprised. “Me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Or are your hands too soft for real work?”
“I know how to work,” she shot back. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever really known how to do.”
“Good,” Derek said, turning toward the door. “Then it’s settled.”

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Rebecca stood there, still processing, as he walked away, wondering how she’d just agreed to help.
For the next few weeks, Rebecca found herself doing things she never expected. She woke up early each morning, pulling on boots and gloves, ready to work. She helped the workers in the fields, fed the animals, and even joined them in the kitchen, cooking meals after long days.
At first, she thought it would be a struggle, but the workers were patient and kind, teaching her the tasks step by step. They treated her like part of the team, and she started to see how much they cared about the farm.

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Rebecca began to question if selling the farm was the right decision. Every night, she fell into bed exhausted, but it was a different kind of tiredness. The farm, once just a burden, was slowly becoming a place she was starting to care about.
One evening, as she walked back to the house, she spotted something unusual—small surveillance cameras mounted on poles, pointing straight at the field. Why hadn’t she noticed them before?
After asking around, she learned from Sarah, a longtime farm worker, where to access the footage. Sarah brought it to the house, and Rebecca started watching the recordings.

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She fast-forwarded until she found what she was looking for—footage of someone sneaking through the field, scattering a strange powder over the crops. The image was blurry at first, but then the figure’s face came into view. Rebecca’s heart dropped. It was Derek.
Furious, she slammed her laptop shut and stormed out of the house. Without thinking, she marched straight toward Derek’s cabin, her mind spinning.
Rebecca stormed up to Derek’s door. When he opened it, she held out her laptop, the screen showing the footage. “Care to explain this?!” she snapped.
Derek sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I was trying to delay the sale,” he said.

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“So you decided to destroy the farm?!” Rebecca yelled, her voice shaking.
“I didn’t destroy it,” Derek replied. “I slowed things down. It worked. I know you’ve started to care.”
“You can’t just do that, Derek! People had to work harder because of you!” she shouted.
“I thought you didn’t care about the people here,” he said. “I wanted to make you see what this farm means.”

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Rebecca felt a sting in his words, but she refused to back down. “But you messed up! I don’t care! That’s why I’m selling it—to the first buyer who shows up!” she yelled, her voice cracking as she turned and stormed away, leaving Derek standing there.
Two days later, two businessmen arrived at the farm. Rebecca greeted them with a polite smile and led them on a tour, showing them the fields, the barns, and the house. She kept her tone professional, trying to stay detached.
After the tour, Ryan, one of the men, said, “We’re ready to buy it.”

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Rebecca felt a weight lift from her shoulders. “Great! When can we sign the contract?” she asked.
“Right now,” said the other man, Tom. “We brought our lawyer with us.”
Rebecca nodded and led them inside. They sat at the dining table, and the lawyer set the papers down. She picked up the pen, but her hand froze. Something didn’t feel right. “You’re buying the farm to run it, right?” she asked.

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“Not exactly,” Ryan replied. “We plan to build a factory here. Is that a problem?”
Rebecca’s stomach twisted. She hesitated, but forced a smile. “No, no problem.” Her eyes drifted to the wall. A childhood photo of her and her grandfather hung there—she was feeding a calf, smiling wide. She took a deep breath, pushing the papers closer. Slowly, she prepared to sign.
After fifteen minutes, Rebecca walked Ryan, Tom, and their lawyer out of the house. She spotted Derek sitting under a tree, watching. Tom shook her hand. “Well, good luck,” he said. Ryan did the same, and then they drove off.

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Derek got up and walked over. “Congratulations,” he said flatly. “The farm’s no longer your problem. How much did you sell it for?”
Rebecca looked at him. “I changed my mind.”
“What?” Derek’s eyes widened, confused.
“I’m not selling it,” she repeated.

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Derek’s frown melted into a smile. “Really?”
“Don’t get too happy,” she said, trying to stay serious. “I’m a demanding boss. My employees usually avoid me.”
Derek suddenly pulled her into a tight hug, catching her off guard. After a moment, she realized what was happening and hugged him back, feeling something warm and hopeful stir inside her.

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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: My mom always left my dad, swearing it was for good, only to return after his apologies and gifts. It became a pattern I was used to, a cycle that never broke. But this time, when she showed up at my door with a suitcase, she had news that changed everything. Read the full story here.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story
My 5-Year-Old Daughter Started Drawing Our Family without Her Dad – When I Found Out the Reason, I Was Speechless

When Heather’s five-year-old daughter refuses to draw her father in her paintings, her heart breaks. Heather eventually presses Lily for an answer, and when she does, Lily shares a shocking revelation about a secret her dad has been keeping. Heather is rendered speechless by the news, which reveals a side of their life that she never would have suspected. I listened to the worried voice of Lily’s teacher while sitting on the couch with the phone pressed to my ear.”Heather, how are things going at your house?” Mrs. Thompson enquired politely.

An knot of worry tightened in my gut. I said, “Mrs. Thompson, what’s the deal?” On the other end, she let out a quiet sigh. We asked the children to create portraits of their families today. Lily only drew herself, you, and her older brother Liam. She became silent and clammed up when I asked her where her dad was.My heart fell. I looked over at Lily, who was on the carpet playing with her toys. Her tiny face exuded such innocence and joy. “Oh, I understand,” I said in a firm voice.
Her dad hasn’t been around much these days, though. We’ve been going through some difficult times.Heather, I get it. Simply put, Lily appeared somewhat reticent when I asked her. Perhaps there was more going on, I reasoned.I inhaled deeply as I attempted to collect my thoughts. I appreciate you informing me of this, Mrs. Thompson. I’ll discuss it with Lily. Naturally, Heather. Please don’t hesitate to contact us if you need any assistance. We want to make sure Lily, who is a lovely girl, is doing well.An old woman talking on the phone I said, “Thank you,” with a mixture of concern and thankfulness.

“I will see to it.” I gave Lily another look as I hung up. She held out one of her dolls and grinned at me. “Observe, mother! She’s got on a lovely dress! I feigned a laugh. I said, “She sure is, sweetheart.” A young girl having fun with a doll. I had to figure out how to bring up Lily’s father with her without upsetting her. I inhaled deeply. Why didn’t you draw Daddy when you were in kindergarten, sweetie? Has he done something that has angered you? Trying to sound as nice as possible, I asked. With reluctance in her large eyes, Lily raised her gaze to me. “Mommy, I can’t tell you.”I squatted down next to her. “Why, my dear? Tell your mother everything you want to. She bit her lip with hesitation. At last, she grasped my hand and murmured, “All right, Mommy, I’ll show you.”
She moved some old crates aside and took me to a corner of the garage. She brought an old, dusty scrapbook out from behind them and gave it to me, her expression sad. “Mom, look inside.”A dejected young girl clutching a photo album. With shaky hands, I opened the album. It was crammed with pictures and sketches, a mixture of joyful events and carefree sketches.

But one page stopped me cold. It was a picture of a man who looked strikingly like my husband but with subtle differences. He was standing with a woman and two children, none of whom I recognized. A kid removing photos from a book with an adult sitting beside them. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at the photo. “Lily, where did you find this?” She pointed to the back of the garage. “I found it when I was looking for my old toys.” I sat down on an old stool, feeling a wave of confusion and fear wash over me. Could it be true? Could David have a second family? I didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was right in front of me.
“Mommy, are you okay?” Lily asked, her voice small and worried. I pulled her into a hug, trying to hide my anxiety. “I’m okay, sweetheart. Thank you for showing me. We’ll figure this out together, okay?” She nodded, and I held her close, my mind racing with questions and doubts. That night, with my heart heavy and mind swirling, I confronted David in our bedroom.
The scrapbook lay open on the bed, its pages filled with secrets I never imagined. “Care to explain this?” I demanded, my voice shaking as I pointed to the incriminating photos. David’s face went pale. He sighed heavily and sat down, his hands trembling.“I–I’m sorry, Heather,” he said. “I was going to tell you, but I didn’t know how.” “You have another family? How could you do this to us?” I yelled, tears streaming down my face, my anger mixing with overwhelming sorrow. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice breaking. “Before I met you, I was married. We had two children, but my wife and one of the kids died in a car accident.
The surviving child, my son, lives with his grandmother. I couldn’t bear to talk about it.”I stood there, stunned. This revelation was more than I could process. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I managed to ask. “I didn’t want to bring the pain into our lives. I wanted to start fresh with you,” he explained, tears welling up in his eyes. His pain was evident, but so was mine. I sat down beside him, trying to absorb his words. The betrayal and the hidden past felt like too much to handle.“You should have trusted me, David,” I said. “We could have faced this together.” He nodded, wiping away a tear. “I know. I’m so sorry, Heather. I just didn’t want to lose you.” I sighed, my anger slowly giving way to empathy. “We’ll need time to work through this, but keeping secrets isn’t the way. We need to be honest with each other.”The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions.
I needed time to process everything. As I sat in my room one evening, staring at the scrapbook, a thought struck me. If Lily found this, could there be more secrets hidden in our home? Determined, I began searching the house. I went through drawers, old boxes, and forgotten corners, looking for anything that might reveal more of David’s past. In the attic, I found a hidden stack of letters and documents. My heart pounded as I sifted through them. One letter, in particular, stood out. It was from a law firm, detailing a large inheritance left to my husband by his late wife. The money was in a trust, and he had never mentioned it to me. I sat down on the attic floor, the letter trembling in my hands. The betrayal cut deep. Why hadn’t he told me about this? What else was he hiding? My mind raced with questions, and a new wave of anger and hurt washed over me. I had to confront him again, but this time, I needed answers.
That evening in the kitchen, the air was thick with tension. I placed the inheritance letter on the table in front of David as he sat down. Lily was in the living room, playing quietly. “You kept this inheritance a secret. Why? I thought we’d promised each other not to keep secrets.” He looked down, avoiding my gaze. “I feared it would change things between us, Heather. I thought if you knew, it would complicate everything.”How could you think hiding something so important would help us? It’s about trust, David. And right now, that trust is shattered!” He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, Heather. I really am. I never meant to hurt you. I just didn’t know how to handle it.” “We can’t go on like this, with secrets and lies.
We need transparency for our sake and for Lily’s,” I said, my voice softening slightly. “Can you promise me that?”David looked up, tears in his eyes. “Yes, I promise. No more secrets.” Just then, the phone rang. I picked it up, and an unfamiliar voice spoke. “Hello, Heather. This is Eleanor, David’s late wife’s mother. I’d like to meet Lily and Liam.” I was taken aback. I put the phone on speaker mode. “Eleanor, I didn’t expect this call. Why now?”“I think it’s time the half-siblings met. They deserve to know each other,” she replied gently. “Got your number from David long ago. Couldn’t find the courage to call you before today.” I glanced at David, who looked equally surprised. “We’ll arrange something soon,” I said, feeling a mixture of apprehension and hope. As I hung up the phone, I turned to David. “Eleanor wants Lily and Liam to meet their half-brother.”David nodded, his expression serious. “It’s about time. We need to bring our families together.” I hoped this was the beginning of a new chapter, one where honesty and healing could finally take root.
The next weekend, we arrived at Eleanor’s house, a warm and inviting place filled with memories. Photos of David’s past adorned the walls, a silent reminder of the life he had before us. Eleanor greeted us at the door.“Hello, Heather. I’m glad you came,” she said, giving me a gentle hug. “Come in, everyone.” We stepped inside, and I immediately felt the warmth of her home. Ethan, David’s surviving son, stood by the fireplace, looking nervous. Lily and Liam clung to my sides, their eyes wide with curiosity. “Ethan, these are your half-siblings, Lily and Liam,” Eleanor said, introducing them. Ethan smiled shyly. “Hi, Lily. Hi, Liam.” Lily took a step forward, her natural curiosity taking over. “Hi, Ethan. Do you like dinosaurs?” Ethan’s face lit up. “I love dinosaurs! Do you want to see my collection?”Lily nodded eagerly, and the two of them ran off to Ethan’s room, leaving us adults to talk.

I watched them go, feeling a sense of relief. Eleanor led us to the living room, where we sat down and began to talk. The conversation was emotional, filled with tears and apologies. David and Eleanor shared stories of the past, and I could see the pain and love in their eyes. A smiling elderly woman | Source: Pexels “Forgiveness and understanding can help us rebuild. We’re a family, and we need each other,” Eleanor said. I nodded, knowing she was right. Our family was fractured, but I could see a path to healing. It wouldn’t be easy, but together, we could rebuild stronger.
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