by Staci Hart
“No,” I said quietly. “I wouldn’t think so.”
His eyes flicked to me, then back to the road. “I think she’s planning to take a basket down to the VA later, if you want to go with her.”
“I think I might.” I paused, considering what the next few days would bring. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. Any of it. All of it.”
“None of us are. You won’t be alone in that.”
That thought was an ember of hope in my chest.
But before I could respond, he doused it. “You sure did bring a lot of suitcases for a weekend.”
“That’s because I’m staying for a few weeks.”
At that, he cut me a look. An accusatory, possessive look. “What for?”
“Because this is my home,” I answered with a frown. “Because I want to spend some time with my memories.” Because I’m about to inherit the farm, and I’m not quite sure what that will mean, I thought, keeping it to myself so as not to upset him. Suddenly, I got the feeling that he wasn’t going to be too happy to work with me, and that was alarming. There was no way I could run the farm without Jake.
He simmered, but didn’t press. Of course, he didn’t acknowledge what I’d said, either. “Kit’s got everything ready for you, and Pop’s lawyer is meeting us at the house. He’s anxious to talk to you about the will.”
I swallowed hard. “Now? So soon? Can’t it wait until…after?”
Jake’s jaw flexed until the muscle at the joint bulged like a marble. “Probably, but he insisted on seeing you the second you got here.”
With a long exhale, I sat back, not realizing I’d straightened up. My gaze landed on the scratched up lock on the glovebox as I processed that I was about to deal with business I wasn’t ready for. The farm hadn’t been doing well, and I had a lot of ideas on how to turn things around, ideas I hoped Jake would help me implement.
But I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want the farm right now, not yet. Not until I had a chance to say goodbye.
A surge of tears threatened me once again, and this time, I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t ease the twist in my chest or the vise of my throat. I couldn’t temper the sting of my nose or the unfurling pain as it filled up my ribs.
Because my grandfather was gone. He was gone, and I was alone again.
The loss of my parents had always haunted me, but I only remembered them in wisps and snapshots. In memories I couldn’t be sure were real or pieced together from stories and photos. But Pop I remembered. I remembered every night he tucked me in, every book he read me. Every scrap of homework he struggled through on my account and every night counting fireflies on the porch. I remembered it all in a fierce rush, as if my pain dug up all that would hurt me just to use it as fuel for my tears.
I couldn’t see for the shimmering curtain, so I closed my eyes. Held my breath, stifling the hitch of my lungs as best I could. Which wasn’t very well.
“It’s going to be okay, Liv,” he said, his voice rough as gravel. “If Frank taught me one thing, it was that there is always hope. In the darkest night, at the lowest low, there is always hope.”
A sob broke loose, my hand moving to my lips to stop the rest. And without thought, I slid across the bench and into his side, hanging on to his arm like an anchor.
He stiffened in surprise, leaving his hands on the wheel while he sorted out what to do with me. When I didn’t let go, when my tears soaked his sleeve, he softened, shifting to pull me to his chest, holding me to him with his massive arm and that square hand on my shoulder. And I cried. I shuddered, face buried in his chest, his shirt fisted in my hand. For that one moment, I was stripped down to the studs, exposed and frayed after two days of trying to keep it all contained.
Because no one in this world understood like Jake. That fact was as comforting as it was painful.
When I finally caught my breath, I shifted away, swiping at my cheeks and nose.
“I-I’m sorry,” I blubbered, moving back to my side of the bench.
“Don’t ever apologize to me for missing him,” he said.
And when our gazes met, I decided I wouldn’t.
Click here to preorder Bet The Farm!
Thank you
This retelling was probably one of the most challenging novels of my career. How do you retell a story that means so much to so many? How much of the original do you keep, and how much do you invent? What the hell does go on in Mr. Darcy’s enigmatic brain? And what do you do with him in a modern retelling when he’s absent for more than half of the original work?
There was a lot of planning. Much discussion. Many notecards to connect the multitude of subplots and characters. Hemming and hawing—how much is too much, and how much is not enough? But in the end, writing a love letter to these characters I love so well was an absolute pleasure and honor, and I hope you enjoyed my take on the most beloved and renowned romance novel of all time, Pride and Prejudice.
First, I’ll thank the usual suspects—my husband, Jeff for handling remote learning for our three children so I could write this book. Kerrigan Byrne, my KerBer, for hemming, hawing, and fangirling alongside me. Kandi Steiner for being ever-ready to read, to listen to me argue with myself until I’m sure I’m right, to write through every day with. K.A Linde for always knowing the answer. You four are the right angles that constitute my cornerstone, and I couldn’t do it without you.
My betas cannot be beat, folks. Sasha Erramouspe is always willing to read, anytime, any place. Amy Vox Libris is forever ready to listen to my long voicemails wherein I pick apart the minutia of a character. Dani Sanchez is always here to make sure no one is boring and that Darcy wasn’t *too* much of an insufferable dick. Nadine Kilian for the daily affirmations and nitpicking scenes until they’re clean. Sara Sentz, Sarah Green, Julia Heudorf, Sam Schumpf, Melissa Brooks, and Jenny Ellis—thank you so much for your time and your feedback! You helped me see the big grand scheme of things, and I appreciate you each so very much.
To my production crew—Tina Lynne, the PA to rule all PAs, Dani Sanchez at Wildfire Marketing, Jovana Shirley at Unforeseen Editing, Stacey Blake at Champagne Designs. Every single one of you is vital to me, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you. Thank you, so much.
To all of my bloggers—you make the book world go ‘round. Thank you so much for all your hard work, dedication, and the joy of books that you bring to the world.
And readers—Thank you. Thank you for reading, for spending your time in my brain and heart, for loving books. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Also by Staci Hart
CONTEMPORARY STANDALONES
Bet The Farm: A small town enemies to lovers
romantic comedy, coming January 2021
Bright Young Things
Fool Me Once
Everyone wants to know who’s throwing the lavish parties, even the police commissioner, and no one knows it’s her … not even the reporter who’s been sneaking in to the parties and her heart.
Hidden Gem
Preorder for May 2021
The Bennet Brothers:
A spin on Pride & Prejudice
Coming Up Roses
Everyone hates something about their job, and she hates Luke Bennet. Because if she doesn’t,
she’ll fall in love with him.
Gilded Lily
This pristine wedding planner meets her match in an opposites attract, enemies to lovers comedy.
Mum’s the Word
A Bower’s not allowed to fall in love with a Bennet, but these forbidden lovers might not have a choice.
The Austens
Wasted Words (Inspired by Emma)
She’s just an adorkable, matchmaking book nerd who could never have a shot with her gorgeous best friend and roommate.
A Thousand Letters (Inspired by Persuasion)
Fate brings them together after seven years for a second chance they never thought they’d have in this lyrical story about love, loss, and moving on.
Love, Hannah (a spinoff o
f A Thousand Letters)
A story of finding love when all seems lost and finding home when you’re far away from everything you’ve known.
Love Notes (Inspired by Sense & Sensibility)
Annie wants to live while she can, as fully as she can, not knowing how deeply her heart could break.
Pride and Papercuts (Inspired by Pride and Prejudice)
She can be civil and still hate Liam Darcy, but if she finds there’s more to him than his exterior shows, she might stumble over that line between love and hate and fall right into his arms.
The Red Lipstick Coalition
Piece of Work
Her cocky boss is out to ruin her internship, and maybe her heart, too.
Player
He’s just a player, so who better to teach her how to date? All she has to do is not fall in love with him.
Work in Progress
She never thought her first kiss would be on her wedding day. Rule number one: Don’t fall in love with her fake husband.
Well Suited
She's convinced love is nothing more than brain chemicals, and her baby daddy's determined to prove her wrong.
Bad Habits
With a Twist (Bad Habits 1)
A ballerina living out her fantasies about her high school crush realizes real love is right in front of her in this slow-burn friends-to-lovers romantic comedy.
Chaser (Bad Habits 2)
He’d trade his entire fortune for a real chance with his best friend’s little sister.
Last Call (Bad Habits 3)
All he’s ever wanted was a second chance, but she’ll resist him at every turn, no matter how much she misses him.
The Tonic Series
Tonic (Book 1)
The reality show she’s filming in his tattoo parlor is the last thing he wants, but if he can have her, he’ll be satisfied in this enemies-to-lovers-comedy.
Bad Penny (Book 2)
She knows she’s boy crazy, which is why she follows strict rules, but this hot nerd will do his best to convince her to break every single one.
The Hardcore Serials
Read for FREE!
Hardcore: Complete Collection
A parkour thief gets herself into trouble when she falls for the man who forces her to choose between
right and wrong.
HEARTS AND ARROWS
Greek mythology meets Gossip Girl in a contemporary paranormal series where love is the ultimate game and Aphrodite never loses.
Paper Fools (Book 1)
Shift (Book 2)
From Darkness (Book 3)
FREE bonus content! Click here!
About the Author
Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life: a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom to three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, even though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey, and her favorite word starts with f, ends with k.
From roots in Houston, to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north in Denver. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, gaming, or designing graphics.
www.stacihartnovels.com
[email protected]
