Bet The Farm - Staci Hart Page 0,103

girl. All of my most meaningful experiences, all of my greatest joys, they’d been here, in this place. I thought I’d gotten it back. But then I’d lost it again.

It’s for the best, I told myself.

I wondered if I’d ever convince myself it was true.

I looked down at Jolene. “All right, girl. It’s time.”

Those pink suitcases waited for me on the white porch, but for the first time, they brought me no relief. No flash of optimism. That first pink suitcase brought me to a farm. To animals and fun and a doting grandfather and adventure.

That pink suitcase had taken me away to a happier place. But this time, it was taking me away from one.

I decided then I should trade in my luggage for a black set.

I was halfway up the steps when I heard the distant hum of an engine and stopped. It wasn’t an unusual sound on a farm, but not a sound we heard so close to the house. The closer it came, the louder it got, and I backed down the stairs, taking a few curious steps in the direction of the noise. I shielded my eyes from the blazing sun, staring at the peak of a slope that led down to the pastures.

A flash of sunlight against glass blinded me. I flinched before looking again as the top of a tractor came into view.

The top of a pink tractor.

Jake was behind the wheel.

My bruised heart climbed up my throat, jamming it. I couldn’t understand what he was doing here, now. His was the last face I’d expected to see, the one I’d been trying and failing to let go. I couldn’t believe he came here just to fight or to talk, not about anything good. But I couldn’t let myself imagine that this was what I wanted most of all. Forgiveness. Acceptance. Faith.

Not until he stood, leaning out of the open side with one hand on the wheel and the other in the air. And on his face was the smile I loved so much. I could hear the laughter that went with it in my mind.

I laughed and ran toward him, shouting, “What are you doing?” as if he could hear me.

The second he figured he was close enough, he killed the engine and jumped out in almost the same motion.

“Thank God I caught you,” he breathed as he approached.

“What are you—”

Without tracking the motion, I was in his arms. Surrounded by the heady scent of him. Caged by his body, flush with mine, his arms a velvety vise.

Taken completely by way of his lips against mine.

It was like I’d taken my first breath in a hundred years.

I breathed him in greedily, leaned into the kiss, into him, without questioning what or why or how. I didn’t care if it was a dream. Because for at least this moment, he was mine again.

He broke the kiss, his hand cupping my jaw, his forehead pressed to mine. Then his lips to my hair when he pulled me into his chest and held me there.

And I held him, too afraid to speak. It might all disappear if I did.

“You’re still here,” he said softly.

I nodded into the divot of his chest.

He took a shaky breath, let it out gently. “I don’t know how to ask you for forgiveness.”

I pulled back to look up at him. “You?”

“I know it’s hard to believe,” he said with the uptick of one side of his mouth. But it faded. He smoothed my hair, peered into my face. “You gave me the farm.”

“It was never really mine to start.”

“I don’t want it.”

My brows quirked.

“Not if you’re not here to share it with me.”

I shook my head, baffled. “I don’t understand. What happened? Why are you—”

“You happened, just like you always do. Everything you do is for the good of the people you love. Never for yourself. I was just too proud to see it, too … too scared. I was so afraid of losing you, I made you leave.” I must have looked confused, because he said, “You didn’t expect me to show up, did you?”

“No.”

“You gave me the farm—just gave it to me, fully intending to get in that truck and get on an airplane and leave everything you love here. And for no other reason than your conviction that it was the best thing for everyone. Everyone but you. I didn’t trust you because I was a fool. I fought you because I was afraid. But you kept