Novel & Cerita Heartland Jake Anderson

Jake thought well of his looks; he was not a dressy man, like Tinkersley, but he nonetheless took pains with his appearance and knew that women fancied him. She had never seen him mad, but she knew he would not like anyone to make light of him. “I believe he’d shoot the man that touches me,” she said. “I believe it too,” Lippy said. “Jake’s mighty partial to Lorie.” “Hell, you’re partial to her yourself,” Gus said. “We’re all partial to her. But Jake ain’t exactly a killer.” “He killed that man in Arkansas,” Lorena said.

The people close by turned to look at him, he noticed, lowered his voice, and continued speaking “You deceived me for fifteen years! You told me your dad was just a secretary at Sinclair Corporation!” “Did I?” I asked, rolling my eyes. Jason’s expression darkened further. “I’m going to tear you to pieces,” he growled, pointing a finger at me. “I’ll make sure—” Before he could finish, Jake moved. It wasn’t an aggressive movement, but it was enough—a subtle step forward, his presence forming a shield between me and Jason. “I think that’s enough,” Jake said smoothly. “You seem very interested in Andrea’s life for someone who threw her away.”

Harald Jake Gardner told his story with an intensity that set the surrounding air on fire. I had already known, in part, what he was going to say, but hearing it from his own mouth was much more brutal than I could have imagined. He started with the name that made me cringe in my seat: Henry Gardner. Jake's father. A man who, twenty years ago, had tried to do what no one else had the courage to do—challenge the Mortons

*** Jake Jake wrapped up his day and headed to the fire station, his backpack in the passenger seat of his truck for his trip up north. He wished things had gone differently with Kari. He would love to take her up there and let her get a few shots of the game, not to mention just hang out together. He parked the truck and walked into the station, all of the older guys waving and calling out to him. The paper would be sending someone... Cliff for sure.

She always was a lightest sleeper—yet, maybe in the company of dreams, she bravely took on the challenges that awaited them. A gentle sense of peace enveloped him as he leaned back against the couch, allowing his eyes to flutter closed. They were together at the Ranch House, where the future felt slightly brighter. After only a few hours of sleep, Jake returned to the house Friday morning, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his wrist. He had been raking leaves all morning, creating a mile-long pathway throughout the surrounding properties on 16 acres of land with the help of two landkeeper employees.

Jake said, taking the keys. "If you need anything I'll be a call away, sir." Jake nodded his head and Arthur left. I looked around and my eyes landed on the huge picture hanging on the wall. It was Mr. and Mrs. Carter standing with Jake, Jacob, and Veronica. Veronica and Jacob looked in their teens while Jake looked around nine or ten. Jake had a huge smile on his face. He was holding Amanda's hand while she was smiling at him. Veronica and Jacob's hand was resting on their parent's shoulder. They all looked genuinely happy.

He just sipped his whiskey and my heart pounded for what was to happen. "It's time for the red carpet" someone announced distracting us and just to avoid these two. On getting to the red carpet, the flashbulbs exploded and reported were shouting names. Jake walked between us. On his right was Maya clinging to his arm, laughing at something he whispered. On his left was me, his wife. One foot behind, like an afterthought. “Mr. Henderson! Who’s the woman?” A reporter if I'm not mistaken asked. Jake turned, all teeth and charm. “This is my wife, Jolene. And this is my... associate, Maya Carter. She’s consulting on Apex’s new wellness line.”

​Before the engine could even cut out, the heavy oak front door of the main house slammed open. ​"Look who finally decided to bring the hostage!" a loud, booming voice echoed across the lawn. ​Jacob "Jake" Bill lounged on the porch railing, a half-eaten green apple in one hand and a basketball spinning effortlessly on the index finger of his other. Jake was nineteen, six-foot-one, with a messy, sun-bleached brown crew cut and sharp green eyes that always looked like they were searching for the nearest source of entertainment. He was Mike's childhood shadow—wherever Mike went, Jake was usually raiding the fridge or causing a scene close behind.

I started back haying this summer, now with Bobby Drake instead of his dad, and I often see Jake then, too, trailing after the wagon, or lounging on a bale of hay in the barn as we stack. At first I thought my mind was starting to throw a few gears. But when my package came the other day and Jake showed up, waving his arms frantically, looking desperate to keep me away from the mail, I finally accepted Jake—whatever he is: ghost, phantom, echo—as being real.

His anger can be seen clearly and he knows that Maynard would risk himself charging to the enemy’s trap. “I got Irvin to locate the area already and the possibility that it was the mafia behind the facility that we wiped out before.” He explains to his brother, it was then the Alpha Marcus appeared and walked on the way to his sons. “Father…” Maynard knew that it is a taboo, he has kept the fact that he’s keeping Barrett to be his mate and Luna, it has roared the anxiety of the pack as well as the scolding of his father.