Page 4 of Stalked By the Farmer

"You're welcome. Now let's get you home." I lead her toward the old red barn in the distance, my hands gentle on the reins.

By the time we arrive, my neighbor Jack comes rushing out, eyes wild with panic. "Daisy! Thank god you found her. I've been up all night worried sick."

"She got caught in the fence on my property, but she'll be fine. Just a few scrapes is all."

Jack pulls me into a hug, surprising me. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Misty. You're a lifesaver."

Heat creeps into my cheeks at the praise. "Anyone would've done the same. She's a sweet horse."

"Maybe, but you're special. Always helping everyone else, though we rarely get a chance to return the favor." A knowing smile tugs at his lips. "One of these days, you'll have to let us take care of you for a change."

I duck my head, a flush staining my cheeks. It's true I prefer to handle things on my own, but Jack's words strike a chord. My eyes drift to the old farmhouse down the road, where Conner no doubt sleeps peacefully, unaware of my late-night rescue.

The thought of Conner stirs a familiar ache in my chest. After all these years, my feelings remain as complicated as ever—a jumble of joy and longing whenever we're together, yet tinged by the fear of losing him if I reveal the truth.

Better to cherish each quiet moment and the solace of his friendship. Safer than risking everything in the fragile hope for more.

Jack clears his throat, jolting me from my thoughts. "You sure you won't come in for coffee? Least I can do after all you've done."

I force a smile and shake my head. "Thanks, but I should head home. Long day tomorrow."

"Alright, if you're sure. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you, Misty. I mean it."

"I will. Take care, Jack." With a final wave, I head for home as the first golden rays of sunrise peek over the horizon.

The familiar ache inside intensifies at the thought of Conner waking to greet the new day. I wonder if he'll notice my absence and worry after me, the way I would if our positions were reversed.

Wishful thinking. Conner's affections are not so easily stirred. But a girl can dream in the quiet of dawn, her heart's secret longings hers alone to keep.

* * *

The sun climbs higher in the sky, its warmth seeping into my skin as I work in the garden. I breathe deep the earthy scent of tilled soil and blossoms, a medley of fragrances as familiar as an old lullaby.

My mind drifts to Conner and his farm, picturing him hard at work baling hay or tending to his crops and livestock. I imagine the flex of muscle under sun-bronzed skin, his capable hands and quiet strength. Heat floods my cheeks at the thought.

Get a grip, Misty! Fantasizing won't make your feelings disappear or lessen the distance between us.

With a sigh, I return my focus to the task at hand—weeding and watering until satisfaction comes from a job well done. The garden is my solace when life grows complicated, a place of quiet purpose that steadies my restless heart.

Night has long since fallen by the time I trudge inside, exhausted yet content. The comforting sounds of Mom and Dad puttering around fill me with a sense of home. But as much as I love my mom and dad, I want a farm of my own.

I pour a glass of iced tea and settle in to research the latest techniques for increasing crop yields and sustaining the land. There's always more to learn, new methods to try. My dream won't build itself.

Conner's farm flickers to mind again, spurring me to take more notes. What can I glean from his successful practices to improve my own?

You're pathetic, a mocking voice whispers. Mooning over him won't make you a better farmer.If you want his farm, you'll have to prove you deserve it.

The taunt stings because there's truth to it. I slam the book shut, suddenly weary of dreaming and longing for a life not yet mine. My path won't be paved by wistful 'what if's'—only by determination and hard work.

Tomorrow the sun will rise again, a new day full of promise. I'll rise with it, ready to get my hands dirty and build something real. Something that's all my own.

* * *

The next morning, I'm weeding the vegetable garden when Conner wanders over, a guarded look in his sea-green eyes. My heart stutters at the sight of him, then kicks into a sprint.Get a grip, I chide myself.

"Everything going okay over here?" he asks, scanning the garden.

"So far, so good." I wipe sweat from my brow, cursing the heat flooding my cheeks. "How about you? Need any help with the alfalfa crop?"

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