Since You've Bean Gone

Waking up hungover in the sheep pen is the least of my problems.

The worst? A foreclosure notice for my family farm. 

Scratch that. The actual worst is the woman delivering the news: my ex, who broke my heart and left me behind for the big city.

I’ve spent a decade trying to forget Lia Thorne, and now she’s the only one who can help my family dig ourselves out from our crushing debt and even stronger egos. 

I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. And if I go along with Lia’s new-fangled scheme, maybe I can win back more than my finances …

Just as long as my meddling grandma and her spoiled sheep don’t interfere.

Since You’ve Bean Gone kicks off the Farm 2 Forking crop of laugh out loud romantic comedies set on Bedd Fellows Farm.

Dig into this swoony, unputdownable second-chance romance by USA Today bestselling author Lainey Davis and buckle up for an un-baa-lievable ride.

I forgot to bring the sheep. 

I scratch uncomfortably at my button-down shirt collar, unused to wearing clothes I have to keep clean, and stare at my brother Samuel, who glowers. “You had one job, Ethan.”

I could punch him. I could kick him. I could explain that, actually, I had weeks’ worth of jobs leading up to this moment, including hours of phone calls to cancel Grandad’s accounts and prepping things for the spring planting. I could ask my brother why he didn’t just go and get the damn merino sheep.

But I don’t do any of those things. Instead, I silently walk out of the lawyer’s office. I climb back into my dead grandfather’s pickup, and drive home to fetch Gran’s beloved Baabara Streisand. 

Gran asked Grandad years ago to build a palace for her pet sheep. At least that’s how I see the decked out shed stationed one foot from the front door to their home. Should I call it Gran’s home now? Gran is alone after decades of marriage. Well. She’s with my siblings temporarily. 

I park the truck by the sheep shed and pray the little bugger cooperates. “Hey, Baabara,” I whisper, trying my best to sound approachable. “Hey, girl, I’m just gonna pick you up, okay?”

I walk toward the cowering, pampered animal, currently munching organic Timothy hay Gran special orders from the Pacific Northwest. Not sure why she doesn’t patronize a local farm or why we don’t grow it ourselves right here in Fork Lick, but the fact of the matter is this sheep is spoiled. Too good for Catskills hay. Too good for a barn. Too muddy for me to be hauling around in my only suit. 

Baabara looks me in the eye and flicks her tail. She stiffens, like she knows I’m about to lunge. “We have to go to town, girl.” I try to exude calm and move slowly. I lean right. Baabara scoots left. “Shhh, come on, now.” I take a few breaths and whip out my hand, but she’s too fast for me. Her hooves kick up filth as she runs tight circles around my legs, smearing me with muck. “Damn it, Baabara!” She catches me behind the knees, and I surge forward, but her own tight laps are her undoing because I get an arm around her neck on my way down. “Ha! Got ya.”

I growl as I heft Baabara into my arms, realizing I’m 32 years old and I don’t even know how to clean an outfit like this. I shove Baabara into the back seat of the cab, knowing Granddad would roll in his grave if he saw me put Gran’s pet menace in the bed of a pickup. 

By the time I get back to the lawyer’s office, my siblings have all seen fit to show up and they all frown at me as I walk in, like I made the proceedings late on purpose. “I have the sheep,” I snarl, tossing a glare at Samuel and easing my expression when I see Gran’s watery smile and my sister Colleen, Samuel’s twin, clutching Gran’s hand.

Lionel, the only lawyer in Fork Lick, clears his throat and looks up at me from his Coke-bottle glasses. The horn-rimmed frames blend in with his dark brown skin and give him the appearance of wearing aviator goggles. Heck, he probably did fly planes with Amelia Earhart. 

There are no more chairs, so I stand in the back of the cramped room with one hand on Baabara's head, the other trying to brush hay and dirt from my suit coat. “Thank you all for being here,” Lionel says. “As you know, we’ve gathered to read the last will and testament of Eugene Bedd.” Lionel licks his lips and I force myself not to stare at the white goo at the corners of his mouth. “First, to Eugene’s beloved wife, Ethel, Eugene has left the farmhouse and acre of land surrounding. He notes you were the love of his life, and he wants you to always know the comfort of your home and the land you shared together.”

Gran whimpers and my brother Alexander leans across to squeeze her other hand. He drapes an arm around her shoulder and swallows, but his eyes are focused on a spot on the floor. Likely where Baabara has dropped a deuce. 

Lionel glances at the sheep. “I know this is unusual, and I thank you for providing transportation to Baabara Streisand-Bedd. Eugene has bequeathed $5,000 toward Baabara’s care and keeping, to include the services of a specialty groomer to shear Baabara twice a year and prepare the fleece for carding, spinning, and eventual knitting by Ethel.” Gran sobs and buries her face in Colleen’s shoulder. I glare at Alex, who reaches up to scratch his ear with the middle finger of his right hand.

At this point Lionel sets his papers down on his desk. He folds his thick hands and sighs. “Folks, I’ve known your family a long time. I’m truly sorry we lost Eugene so soon, especially given all that you’ve been through over the years.”

I stifle a groan and cross my arms. “Out with it.” Jackson and Alex glare at me and I roll my eyes. “Sorry. Lionel, please just be straight with us. What’s in the will?”

Lionel coughs. “Well, as you can imagine, Eugene wanted to leave everything to you kids. He raised you as his own—along with you, Ethel, of course.”

Gran dabs at her eyes with a hankie. I grind my teeth together, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Lionel leans back in his chair. “You all have tended this land for generations. Eugene specified that he knew you’d continue to steward the land as he had done.”

“But?” Samuel leans forward in his chair, sparing a pat on the head for Baabara.

Lionel cringes. “I’m not sure if you’re aware that in recent years, Eugene leveraged the farm heavily to secure loans for new equipment, supplies, and that sort of thing.”

Gran nods. “I knew there were troubles.”

Lionel smiles tightly. “The outstanding loans and mortgages on the property total over $750,000.” Colleen gasps and Alexander’s eyebrows fly up. I’m sure mine do the same. Lionel continues. “This debt will need to be addressed before the estate can fully transfer. We do have someone from the loan holder in New York City who has come up here to meet with you about your options. I’m afraid it’s beyond the scope of what we can offer here at Fork Lick Legal Services.”

My brother Jackson looks around and sputters. “You’re telling me Bedd Fellows Farm owes almost a million to the bank and this is the first we’re hearing of it?” 

I narrow my eyes at my brother the rockstar. “What’s a million bucks to you?”

Jackson whips his head toward me, looking aghast. “A lot, considering all my money is tied up in investments right now.”

Before I can press the issue, Lionel smiles empathetically and continues. “I know this comes as a shock. Eugene always did try to keep his business private.”

Alex glares at me. “You’re the great and mighty heir. You’re telling me you didn’t take a single look at the finances while you were over there picking up the reins?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I press off the wall so I’m standing upright…in a small pile of sheep droppings.

Alex rolls his eyes. “Come on, Ethan. We all know you did everything Grandad told you to. You seriously had no idea any of this was going on?”

“You’re damned right I did what Grandad suggested. And no, I did not know about the finances because I’ve been a little busy tilling 500 acres of soybeans!”

“Boys, please.” Gran slaps the wooden arms of her chair and we all shut up. “You sound like oil and vinegar, always separating. We need to blend together and figure this out. Lionel, I apologize for my grandsons losing their temper. You know I raised them better than that.”

“Sorry, sir,” Alexander offers and turns to Gran. “I’m just upset.”

“Of course you are, baby.” Gran pats his hand. “Lionel, where’s this banker? What do we need to do next?”

Lionel smiles and opens the door for a woman, who slides into the crowded room. I sink back against the wall, feeling the blood rush out of my head at the sight of someone I spent the past decade trying to forget.

Samuel guffaws when he sees her. “Lia Thorne. What brings you back to town?”

She clasps her hands in front of her gray pencil skirt, looking perfectly at ease in her office attire, her dark hair tied back in a fancy-looking twist. “I’m a financial advisor with Burgess and Bowers. I’m here to work with your family to avoid foreclosure proceedings.”

The oxygen leaves the room at her words, and everyone stares at her. Even Jackson wipes the smirk from his face as my high school sweetheart reveals she’s in on the debt situation. 

“You knew?” My voice is hoarse, like I’ve actually been screaming instead of just mentally shouting at the imaginary ants currently agitating my pants. 

Lia has the decency to wince at that, but she nods. “I was of course not at liberty to discuss Eugene’s private financial dealings as one of our clients but—”

“You knew we’re about to lose the whole farm and you let us find out from Lionel, crammed in a tiny room with a merino sheep shitting on the low-pile carpet?”

Lia’s eyes go wide, like she’s only just realized I’m here, or maybe she’s only just remembering how she left me after promising to love me forever. It was supposed to be me and her taking over the farm, at the helm, riding a John Deere off into our sunset together. “I’m sorry, Ethan.”

“Unbelievable.” This time nobody scolds me when I shout. I look around the room one final time, shake my head, and shoulder my way past Lia and out the door. 

I don’t care how they get the sheep home. I climb in Grandad’s truck and drive away.