Chapter 6: The Sweetness of Amnesia

From that moment on, the little house where father and daughter had scraped by became lively with the addition of a bright, energetic young man. Henry finally got to enjoy the life he’d always wanted—a son and a daughter, laughter filling every room.

The house buzzed with activity, the kitchen always fragrant with fresh bread or roasting pork. It was the family Henry had dreamed of, patched together but somehow complete.

Caleb was as eager and gentle as a spring colt, calling “Dad” as often and earnestly as raindrops on a tin roof.

He worked hard, never complaining, eager to help. He picked up chores quickly, his hands skilled and confident.

Henry sipped his homemade moonshine, overjoyed with his new family.

He’d raise a glass in the evenings, toasting to luck, to family, to second chances. Sometimes he’d hum old country songs, the tunes drifting out over the porch.

The days of amnesia were truly sweet.

There was a comfort in forgetting, a peace in starting over. The whole town welcomed Caleb, treating him like one of their own.

Caleb seemed made for this life—not only did he call “Dad” with ease, but he handled every farm chore like he’d been born to it, like an old hand with decades of experience.

He fixed fences, mucked stalls, and could coax a stubborn tractor to life with nothing but a wrench and a prayer.

His grip on the hoe was sure as any seasoned farmhand, and he delivered piglets better than some old-timers.

Neighbors would shake their heads in wonder, swapping stories at the feed store about his uncanny knack for animals and engines.

The town’s old bookkeeper peered over his glasses and joked, “He must’ve been a farmhand in a past life, sneaking into chicken coops before he was born.”

The joke spread, everyone laughing over their coffee. Caleb just grinned, taking it all in stride.

Henry loved hearing it, sipping moonshine and eating Caleb’s fresh braised pork ears, feeling a rare sense of contentment.

For a while, it seemed like nothing could go wrong. The past was just a shadow, the future bright as a summer morning.