“I just can’t believe you sold Steeple Ridge.” Missy Marino reached for the roll of packing tape, her auburn braid falling over her shoulder as she secured another box.
Jamie sighed but didn’t otherwise respond. Missy tucked her thoughts about the sale of the farm into the back of her mind, though they kept escaping. She’d known for a year that Jamie was going to sell the forty-acre horse farm. But that didn’t make the reality of it any easier, and with every book she loaded into another box, every plate she wrapped in paper, every trip she made to Jamie’s truck with more of her belongings, Missy’s blood felt like someone had poured cement into it and it was now hardening in her veins.
With everything loaded and a professional maid service arriving within the hour, Jamie pulled Missy int
