Stalked By the Giant (ONCE UPON A TIME) by Lexi Ostrow EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Lexi Ostrow
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.3 MB
- Price: Free
Jackson swore as a lick of pain streaked through him, his back bent, as
he planted the last of the season’s seeds in the parched ground, hoping
that this year would be different. The Walker family farm had been in
his bloodline for generations, and he couldn’t bear to be the one to let it go
under.
The land, his land, was a tapestry of tilled earth and it whispered stories
of generations that toiled upon it. His calloused hands and strained muscles,
were testaments to his devotion, and harked back to his ancestors.
The farm was not just a livelihood.
It was his legacy.
Last season’s plight, however, was etched deeply into the furrows and
ridges of the land. Winter had been a harsh mistress blanketing the soil with
a heavy, suffocating snow that refused to melt until well into what should’ve
been spring. The delayed thaw had given way to a spring that was
mercilessly dry, the rainfall merely a miser’s drop.
The crops had suffered—corn stalks stunted, wheat thin and spindly.
They rustled with a dry, crackling laugh in the wind, mocking Jackson’s
perseverance. His bank account ached like the drought-ridden earth, the
financial strain almost too palpable.
This season, as winter approached, Jackson was in no better of a place.
Yet, standing there, silhouetted against the twilight sky, Jackson’s eyes
held a fire that not even the most barren winter could smother. Resolve
tightened his jaw. His farm was not going to fall—his heritage would not be
reduced to dust and empty stalks.
Wiping sweat from his brow, he squinted up at the ominous clouds
churning in the sky above. The weatherman hadn’t predicted a storm, but
the unpredictability of the weather these days made it hard to trust forecasts.
With a sigh, he straightened his aching spine and trudged back to the red
barn.
As he passed the tumbledown barn, Jackson’s thoughts drifted back to
his late grandfather, who’d always said, “Jackson, this farm was ours for the
taking. It will never steer you wrong so long as you do right by it.”
Jackson chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, right, Gramps. All I’m getting from
this land is a headache.”
The screen door of his farmhouse creaked and clapped shut, a defiant
drum in the quiet evening. “Jackson! Supper’s ready!” Aunt Marie’s voice
was as warm and comforting as the quilt she’d hand-sewn him when he was
a boy.
Only then did he realize he left a field unchecked. “In a minute, Aunt
Marie!” he called back, a gentle twang in his voice, one honed by the land
he stood upon. “Just gotta check on the north field real quick!”
Turning back on his foot, Jackson moved to check the field he’d missed
during his mumbling complaints. His boots sucked at the mud as he moved
to the closest field — a sign that perhaps the desperate prayers for rain had
been heard—as he trudged towards the last stretch of green land that clung
to life. He knew some of the brightness would have drained from his blue
eyes had anyone been watching him.
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