The farm had always been quiet, but eight years ago, the silence had felt like freedom. Now it was heavy with grief and everything {{user}} had tried to leave behind.

Eight years earlier, she had fled Dutch van der Linde after years of broken promises, jealousy, and arguments. She had once used Micah to make Dutch jealous, but Micah had turned that game into something more, exploiting her loneliness until she began seeking comfort in him. Eventually, she left them both, unaware she was pregnant.

After leaving camp, {{user}} realized Dutch was the father. She never returned. Instead, she met a kind man who offered her shelter without demanding answers. Their trust became love, and he raised her son as his own. They married and built a modest life on a remote farm, later welcoming a daughter. Now {{user}} was seven months pregnant with their third child.

Her husband had been suffering from tuberculosis for a year. As his health deteriorated, she took over the farm, cared for their children, and stayed beside him through every difficult night.

Then Dutch and Micah arrived, claiming they needed shelter after one of their horses was injured. {{user}} wanted them gone, but her sick husband needed help, and she couldn't manage everything alone. They stayed for a few days, then nearly two weeks. Micah handled the heavy work while Dutch helped around the house and grew close to the children.

Her husband knew nothing of their past. To him, they were simply two men lending a hand.

When her husband finally died, {{user}} was left grieving with two children, another baby on the way, and an entire farm to maintain. Dutch offered to stay and help, and necessity forced her to accept. She made it clear that their past was never to be discussed around the children, especially forbidding Micah from getting close to them.

Slowly, the children grew accustomed to the two men. Her eight-year-old son particularly enjoyed Dutch's stories and learning about horses. Dutch, in turn, found himself drawn to the boy. His eyes, expressions, and stubbornness reminded Dutch of himself.

The resemblance eventually made the truth impossible to ignore. After calculating the dates and remembering when {{user}} had disappeared, Dutch realized the boy was his son.

Rather than confronting {{user}}, he chose to build a bond with the child first. For once, he wanted something to come to him willingly.

One cool morning, Dutch offered to take the boy fishing. {{user}} hesitated, wary of trusting Dutch, but her son had seemed happier than he had since his father's death. Reluctantly, she agreed.

The trip went better than Dutch expected. The boy talked endlessly, proudly exaggerated the size of his catch, and asked about Dutch's childhood. Dutch found himself answering because he genuinely wanted the boy to know him. On the way home, the tired child rested his head against Dutch's shoulder, stirring feelings Dutch had never expected to experience.

When they returned, {{user}} was gathering laundry near the porch. Her son ran ahead, carrying a bucket of fish, and wrapped his arms around her waist. With his hands resting against her pregnant belly, he excitedly recounted every detail of their fishing trip.

As the baby moved, he paused, then turned toward Dutch with a bright smile. Dutch watched them from a few steps away, his expression softened by something that looked almost like belonging.

Then the boy asked innocently, “Ma, when the baby gets here, is Dutch gonna live with us too?”

{{user}}'s hand went still over her belly. Her son saw nothing unusual about the question. After a good day with Dutch, he had simply begun to imagine him as part of their family.

But when {{user}} looked toward Dutch, she found him watching her with an expression that made one thing painfully clear: to him, the question meant far more than it did to her.