Page 11 of Stalked By the Farmer

I can't eat. I can't sleep. Each day another dawn comes, and the vicious cycle begins anew, my mind and heart at war. There can be no peace until Misty is in my life again.

Where she belongs.

I slam my fist into the wall again, relishing the pain. I barely register the pain.

I slide down the wall, clutching my bleeding knuckles. The metallic tang of blood in my mouth mirrors the bitterness within.

I don't even have her as a friend anymore.

CHAPTERSIX

Misty

I slamthe door behind me, my heart pounding. What am I going to do?

Dad just told me the bank is taking our farm. After generations, the Roberts family farm will belong to someone else. I lean back against the wooden door, struggling to breathe.

How did this happen? Dad's been so careful with the books. There must have been some mistake.

I wish I could call Conner. He'd know what to do. But after that kiss...

Heat rises in my cheeks. The feel of his lips on mine, his strong hands cupping my face. I wanted to melt into him. But as soon as he pulled away, panic flooded me. What have I done?

I haven't spoken to him since. Every time I see his truck rumbling down our dirt road, my heart leaps, hoping he'll stop. Hoping we can go back to the way things were. But he just keeps driving.

My heart breaks for me, for my dad. He's poured his whole life into this land.

There has to be a way to save it. I rack my brain, determined to find an answer. I can get another job, work nights and weekends too. Slash our budget to the bone. There must be something I can do. Some way to keep our home.

Conner's face floats into my mind again, his lips descending towards mine.

No. I shake my head fiercely. I can't think about him right now. I have to focus on saving the farm. On protecting my family.

No distractions.

* * *

The next morning, I wake before dawn. My mind is racing with ideas and plans, possibilities and strategies. I sit up, turning on the lamp by my bed, and grab a pen and paper.

Lists. I need lists. Jobs to apply for, expenses to cut, assets we can sell. My hand flies across the page, numbers and chores tumbling through my mind.

By the time the sun peeks over the horizon, I have two pages filled front and back. "Time to get to work," I say under my breath, a determined set to my jaw.

I shower quickly, get dressed, and head downstairs where Mom is making coffee. "Morning, sweetheart," she says with a smile, though there are dark circles under her eyes. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Well enough." I take a mug from the cabinet, pouring myself some coffee. The familiar aroma helps clear my head, sharpening my focus. "Mom, I was thinking...we should sell some of the equipment we don't use anymore. The old tractor, the baler, maybe some of the tools in the shed. They're just collecting dust and could bring in some decent money."

Mom blinks at me. "I...hadn't thought of that." A flicker of hope ignites in her eyes. "Do you really think it would help that much?"

"Every little bit counts." I reach over and squeeze her hand. "We have to at least try, right?"

She smiles, more genuinely this time, and nods. "You're absolutely right. Let's make a list of what we can sell and start putting ads in the paper and online right away."

The knot in my chest loosens just a fraction. We have a plan. A direction to move in. It's not much, but it's a start.

Now we just have to hope it's enough.

Conner's face looms in my mind again, but I push it away.

---