A woman and her son worked on a farm in exchange for food and lodging when they stumbled upon a dark secret—someone close was deliberately sabotaging the place.
The sharp smell of burning jolted them awake without warning, like a thief in the night kicking down the door instead of knocking.
Greg sat up in bed, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. Outside, the night was eerily bright—a flickering glow painted the walls with long, trembling shadows. He rushed to the window and froze. It wasn’t just a fire—it was a raging inferno, devouring everything he’d built. The barn, his tools, his dreams… all of it swallowed by flames.
His heart stopped for a second before thudding in his throat. He knew right away—it wasn’t an accident. It was arson. That realization hurt worse than the heat. His first instinct was almost primal—to lie back down, close his eyes, and let it all burn to ashes. What was left anyway?
Then came the terrified bellowing of the cows. His animals—the ones that fed him, kept him going—were trapped inside. Despair turned to fury. Greg bolted outside, grabbed an axe, and ran toward the barn. The wooden door was already ablaze, scorching his face with every step. A few hard swings, and the latch gave way. The doors flung open, freeing the panicked herd. The cows, pushing and lowing, stampeded to the farthest corner of the field, away from the nightmare.
Once they were safe, Greg’s strength left him. He collapsed onto the cold, damp earth and watched ten years of his life go up in flames. Ten years of sweat, pain, and hope. He’d come here with nothing but blind faith in himself, working his fingers to the bone. But these last few years had been cursed—drought, sick cattle, feuds with the village.
And now… the final blow.
As Greg sat there, lost in bitterness, he saw movement in the smoke. Two figures—moving with strange coordination. A woman and a boy, lugging water, throwing sand, smothering flames with old blankets. Like they knew exactly what they were doing.
Greg watched, stunned, then snapped out of it and ran to help. Wordlessly, desperately, the three fought the fire until the last ember died. They crumpled to the ground, burnt and exhausted but alive.
“Thanks,” Greg gasped, trying to catch his breath.
“Don’t mention it,” the woman said. “I’m Anne. This is my son, David.”
They sat by the charred remains of the barn as dawn painted the sky in soft, mocking colors.
“You… wouldn’t have any work, would you?” Anne asked suddenly.
Greg let out a bitter laugh. “Work? There’s a mountain of it now—but no money to pay. I was thinking of leaving. Selling what’s left. Just… going.”
He stood and paced, a wild idea forming in his tired, desperate mind.
“Tell you what. Stay. Watch the farm for a couple of weeks. The cows, what’s left. I’ll go to the city. Try to sell it. Doubt anyone will buy, but I need to get away. Just for a while.”
Anne looked at him—fear, surprise, a flicker of hope in her eyes.
“We… we had to run,” she admitted quietly. “From my husband. He hit us. We’ve got nothing. No money, no papers.”
David, silent until then, muttered, “It’s true.”
Something cracked inside Greg. He saw himself in them—people life had dragged through the mud, still trying to stand.
“Alright,” he said with a shrug. “We’ll figure it out.”
He showed them the ropes—where everything was, how to run the machinery, where to find feed. Just before he left, he rolled down the car window.
“Watch out for the village folks. Nasty lot. It was them. Had to be. Always breaking things. And now… this.”
He drove off, leaving behind the smoking ruins and two strangers holding the last fragments of his life.
The moment the car vanished around the bend, Anne and David exchanged a look. No fear, no confusion—just determination. This was their shot. Their only one.
They got to work immediately—calming the cows, milking, cleaning up. Days passed, and the farm started changing. The yard became tidy, tools were scrubbed, and the cows—well cared for—produced more milk. An old fridge, once just for show, now overflowed with jars of cream, cheese, and butter.
One day, while cleaning, Anne found Greg’s papers—veterinary certificates among them. An idea struck. She flipped open a notebook and started calling local cafés, offering fresh dairy. Most said no, but one day, luck struck.
“Hello? Is this the family café ‘Comfort’?”
A short chat later, the owner, Mrs. Elizabeth, agreed to visit. The next day, a sleek car pulled up. A well-dressed woman eyed the farm skeptically—until she tasted the cheese.
“My dear, this is divine!” she beamed. “I’ll take it all—and keep ordering!”
Their first client. Their first step toward a new life.
Meanwhile, David befriended a local girl, Olivia. One day, walking by the river, he complained about the villagers.
“You didn’t know?” Olivia frowned. “Greg’s a bit rough, sure, but no one wishes him harm. Three years back, when his cattle got sick, half the village had the same problem. Some men even tried to help—he chased ’em off with a shotgun! After that, folks kept their distance.”
Anne tucked that away. At the village shop, the clerk confirmed it—a rival farmer from the next town was behind it all, pitting them against each other.
One evening, as twilight settled, a group approached the farm. Anne’s stomach dropped. “Another fire?” she thought, panic rising.
“David, quick—get the shotgun!” she whispered.
But the figures weren’t hostile. An old man at the front took off his cap, twisting it in his hands.
“Evening, ma’am. We come in peace. Just want to talk.”
They sat at a makeshift table, and the truth spilled out—the village had suffered too. They realized now—someone had been playing them. A greedy farmer from the neighboring town, trying to ruin Greg, to divide them.
“We need to report him,” the mayor said. “Tell Greg when he comes back. The village stands with him now.”
Greg returned defeated. No one had wanted a burnt, “cursed” farm. He expected to find the place empty—Anne and David gone like everyone else.
But as he pulled up, his car stopped on its own.
The farm wasn’t half-ruined—it was alive. The fence, long broken, stood repaired. The grass was trimmed. The cows grazed peacefully. Even the air felt different—full of purpose.
He crept toward the house, hearing Anne’s voice—steady, confident—talking about legal complaints, expanding orders, plans.
Greg stood frozen. This woman—once a drifter—now looked like she owned the place. Strong. Sure. Someone who’d saved not just his farm but him.
He stepped into the light.
“Evening,” he rasped. “Mind if I… have a cuppa?”
Anne loved showing Greg her notes at night—calculations, earnings. In two weeks, they’d made more than he had in months.
“This is just the start,” she said briskly. “Mrs. Elizabeth wants more. We should expand—maybe get more cows?”
Greg gaped. This woman—his guest, his helper—was his salvation.
Then came the morning the gate screeched violently. A hulking man stormed in, reeking of booze and hate.
“Found you, you witch!” he roared, lunging at Anne. “Think you can hide?”
Viktor. Her ex. Her nightmare.
Greg moved like a wall. One punch—solid, brutal—and Viktor hit the dirt.
“Touch her again,” Greg growled, so low it chilled even Anne, “and I’ll bury you here. Understood?”
David stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, eyes blazing.
“Go, Dad,” he said firmly. “And don’t come back. We’re not afraid of you anymore.”
Viktor slunk away, cursing.
After, a strange quiet fell. Greg turned to Anne, flustered but resolute.
“Annie,” he started, shaky. “Let’s go to town. Get your papers. Divorce him. Then… marry me.”
Anne studied him—big, strong, suddenly shy. A smile tugged at her lips.
“Can I think about it?” she teased. “Or do you need an answer right now?”
Greg flushed—then laughed, really laughed, for the first time in years.
They wanted a quiet wedding. But villages don’t keep secrets. Soon, everyone knew—and everyone came. With bread, jam, barrels of cider. The mayor brought a guitar. Mrs. Elizabeth, gifts. Kids ran wild, laughter everywhere.
The tables stretched longer than the road to the river.As the sun set over their thriving farm, Greg squeezed Anne’s hand, knowing that from the ashes of the past, they’d built something unbreakable together.
