Where do you think you’re going?!” Semyon snapped, watching the woman walk carelessly down the road. Sure, he knew he wasn’t perfect, but crossing the street without using the crosswalk—while holding the hand of a small child—felt reckless at best.
A heavy truck screeched to a halt just inches from where she stood frozen, eyes shut tight. The child started crying, breaking her daze. She scooped him into her arms.
“Don’t you see there’s no crosswalk here?!” Semyon tried to keep calm, but frustration crept into his voice.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t notice,” she murmured.
“‘Didn’t notice’? I could’ve ended up in jail because of you! At least think about the child if you don’t care about the rest of us!”
She turned sharply, defensive.
“I said I’m sorry! Honestly, it would’ve been easier if you hadn’t stopped at all,” she said bitterly. “For both of us.”
She didn’t seem drunk or foolish—just worn down.
“Get in the car,” Semyon said.
Startled, she hesitated.
“Alright… I guess a ride would help. There’s a bit of a traffic jam.”
Five cars at a standstill—hardly a jam—but it seemed to unsettle her. Holding her child close, she still gave the impression of a devoted mother. Yet, her reaction puzzled him. Something was wrong.
“Why do you carry other people’s burdens?” she sighed, but climbed in.
The car pulled up outside a restaurant.
“Come, have lunch with me. Let’s talk,” Semyon offered.
“No, no need. It’s awkward,” she replied.
“It’s fine, my treat. Consider it my apology for scaring you earlier. By the way, I’m Semyon.”
“Valentina. And this is Yegor,” she said softly.
While waiting for their food, Valentina seemed distant before opening up.
“My world’s falling apart. Until yesterday, I thought things were okay. Then last night, my husband kicked us out. Said he found ‘true love’ and we’re no longer needed. I’m at home with my son, no job, no friends… If this is your restaurant, maybe you could help me find work? I’ll clean floors, wash dishes—anything to survive.”
Semyon asked gently, “Where will you live? Who will watch your son while you work?”
Valya lowered her gaze.
“I don’t know… I really don’t.”
He nodded toward their plates.
“Eat. Feed your son. We’ll figure it out.”
He looked at the weary young woman and couldn’t fathom how her husband could treat her so coldly. Her pride showed—she hadn’t sought legal help or argued—just left with what she could carry. How could he help? Strange as it was, Semyon, who usually avoided commitments, found himself wanting to help her. But how? He wasn’t sure yet.
His phone buzzed.
“Hello?”
“Semyon Vasilyevich, we need feed. You bought some last month.”
“Sure, I’ll transfer the money. Problem with buyers?”
“No calls. Poor animal’s suffering.”
“Alright, someone will come soon.”
The elderly woman tending the animals had struggled alone for months.
The farm had landed unexpectedly in Semyon’s hands after his uncle passed away. He visited once, paid the neighbor to watch over the animals, but had no idea what to do next.
Pocketing the phone, he glanced at Valentina.
“Have you ever handled cows or sheep?”
“I grew up in a village until I was fifteen,” she said with a wave.
Semyon perked up.
“How about moving to the village? I’ll explain everything.” He laid out the situation: “I’ll give you full control. Develop it, sell it, buy whatever you want. I won’t interfere. I just hate leaving it to waste. The village has a school, maybe a kindergarten. I’m sure Yegor will adapt.”
Valya’s eyes widened.
“Are you serious? But it’s yours…”
“I’d be thrilled if you took it off my hands. Selling it would cost too much in paperwork. The farm’s worth would plummet. A waste of time.”
Valentina smiled.
“But we’re strangers to you…”
“Don’t think like that. Think of it as doing me a favor. I won’t have to worry about it anymore or pay upkeep. Do you have a driver’s license?”
She nodded.
“There’s some equipment in the garage. Your uncle seemed to sell off some things. Feel free to use whatever you find! I just don’t want this village nightmare draining me.”
Valya looked at Semyon gratefully.
“Half an hour ago, I didn’t believe there were any good people left. When the closest person hurts you, it feels like everyone else is worse. But now I see there are good people—and maybe more of them than I thought.”
Semyon called over the administrator.
“Oleg, take my car keys and drive these folks to that address. Someone will cover for you. No one’s around anyway.”
Valya smiled as the fields and forests flew by. She missed the village more than she admitted. Yegor would be happy there—if the house was in good shape. Semyon was kind, handsome, and unexpectedly generous.
They arrived at a large house. Valya gasped.
Oleg helped unload the bags. Semyon gave him some money to pick up groceries. Valya grabbed what she needed—quite a lot. She had brought things bit by bit, but Oleg took charge.
“Semyon warned me,” said the elderly neighbor, Anna Fyodorovna. “I’m so glad you’re here now! First, a house like this can’t stay empty. Second, I’m exhausted.”
Her house was nearby.
“Don’t worry, Valyusha,” she said warmly. “I’ll help at first, and once you’re settled, you’ll figure it out. I understand you have full authority?”
Valya laughed.
“Of course!” She spun around, almost like a child. “This is nothing like the apartment I had with my husband! That whole place would fit in one room here!”
Anna showed her dishes and linens.
“Use whatever you need.”
“Don’t worry, the owner didn’t die here. He passed in the hospital.”
Weeks passed. Valentina, with her natural warmth, learned the ropes of farming. She got to know the few remaining cows, the sheep raised for meat, and the chickens. Her mind cleared. She realized even poorly tended animals produce more than enough. She needed a market to sell.
Maybe some kind grandma at the market? Then she could hire help.
Later, Valya explored the garage. Inside stood a beast—a massive vehicle built for hauling loads through dirt roads. She sighed. Once, she drove a tiny car small enough to fit inside this monster.
Now, weeks later, she’d learned things she never thought she would. And the truck… was only slightly bigger than her old car.
Anna Fyodorovna watched from the window.
“Grandpa, is that the neighbor’s car? Did they sell the beast? Wait, Valya’s driving it! If she has to, she’ll go through fire! She’ll need help soon. Hasn’t she said anything?”
“No, I haven’t heard.”
“Well, maybe some work will come.”
“Strange that Semyon hasn’t shown up yet. I thought… they’d make a nice couple.”
Grandpa chuckled.
“Anya, you want to marry everyone off! But maybe Valya will succeed.”
Semyon stopped by a restaurant, staring at the building. He never thought he’d fall for this place like a rookie. Just a simple catch. He relaxed and started to believe in himself—until he realized he’d practically sold the restaurant and house for pennies. The money was locked away, and he had to keep a low profile for months.
Then he remembered his uncle’s farm, untouched. No one had managed it.
“Valya can’t kick me out, right? Maybe she left already? But Anna would’ve called…”
He went to the village. Quiet morning, peaceful. The house looked different—half of what was there hadn’t been before.
Standing by the gate, Valya ran out dragging huge bags toward the new building. Then came Anna Fyodorovna, dressed in white and wearing a cap.
“Hello, ladies!” Semyon said, blinking. If he saw Valya on the street now, he wouldn’t recognize her—confident, in trendy jeans and a tee.
“Hello!” Anna clapped.
Valya looked nervous, and Semyon quickly said,
“Don’t mind me. I just wanted to ask if I could stay a while. City life’s been tough. Need a reset. Will that be okay?”
She smiled brightly.
“Of course! Come in!”
Semyon looked around in awe.
“What’s all this?”
“A cheese workshop,” Valya explained. “And that building? We’re just starting, but already have lots of orders. We make shashlik, marinated cheese, ribs, and more.”
Semyon’s jaw dropped.
“Valya, when did all this happen?”
“It’s been two years since we last met,” she shrugged.
They talked until late. Yegor went to bed early, tired from biking with Semyon. Semyon felt… alive, like a kid again. Sitting at the table, he listened to Valya’s dreams.
“You really want to bring all this to life?”
“Absolutely! We’re doing well, covering salaries, even saving a bit.”
Semyon looked at her and realized how stunning her eyes were, how kind her face was, how amazing she truly was.
He asked Anna Fyodorovna for advice.
“I think I know what this is about. You want to talk about someone, right?”
Semyon blushed.
“Yes. I want to know—does Valya have someone? Should I step back?”
Anna laughed.
“There’s no one. She works nonstop. She’s like a buzzing bee from morning till night, running that beast.”
“Thank you, Anna. I hope I can be a good help.”
Semyon stayed in the village. He even dreamed of opening a café, maybe a hotel. The place had potential and charm.
Their products gained fame throughout the region. Orders came from far away, but Valya insisted on waiting to expand until their newborn daughter was six months old.
“Why rush?” she said. “Family comes first.”