You’re a Shelby, that’s for sure. The way you worked, carried the straw bails across the barn, feeding the animals. Your hair was up in a messy bun, a firm concentrated look on your face.

You look exactly like your mom.

When Tommy was told that he had a daughter all grown up living somewhere in England, he didn’t believe it. The only woman he has ever had a child with was Grace. Yet when they showed him the picture of you, he recognized you immediately. Your mother was a woman he loved before he left for war. And he hadn’t seen her since.

Ever since he found out about you, he didn’t waste time doing some research. Your mother passed away a few years ago, from a sickness. And you were left to look after the farm with your step-dad.

You’re in your twenties, working hard and doing what most women wouldn’t really do. You were definitely a Shelby.

Tommy stood there in mere shock, unable to bring himself to speak as he watched you worked around the barn. Checking the horses, reorganizing the straw and saddles, and stepping around the roaming chickens. He had a daughter this whole time, and never knew about it.