The Farmhand

By Sabrina

Greg has woken up in hospital, spending seven days a week alone on the farm trying to run it alone has taken it's toil on him and he has finally had the heartattack his daughter had been worried about.  She was determined now to get the stubbon old fool some help and has taken matters into her own hands and found the best Farmhand she thinks she can get.  A young man by the name of Troy who she is sure will help her father work on the farm and maybe give him some company she thinks he desperatly needs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sabrina
• Release date: May 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215987179

Sabrina

Sabrina is an erotica author who loves to titalate with stories about ordinary people doing extraordinary things.   Sabrina loves to take walks in the park and is definately a people watcher, she likes to meet people and there is nothing more than interesting than listening to people's life story and learning so much from them.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Greg woke up and looked around him, he was confused, it was noisy, so many people talking and yet at the same time making no sense, the sound of a metal trolley striking a wall and its contents ratting loudly made him jump.  His instinctive thought was to jump out of bed and see if anything had broken but this was not his bed, his memory stirred of his dark bedroom with a large walnut wardrobe against the back wall and his dark wood king sized bed his wife had insisted they bought over twenty years ago.  This was some metal contraption and he filled it completely, a single bed, he thought, he hadn’t been in a single bed since he was at home with his mother.  For a second the face of his mother flashed into his memory, he could feel his heart hurt as he thought of her for the first time in god knows how long.  He lived at home and slept in his single bed up to the night before he’d taken his wife on her wedding day.

He ignored all of the noise around him when he thought of his wife, that beautiful woman he’d married over thirty years ago but his heart began to hurt again when he remembered last year when she’d been rushed to hospital, they said it was probably appendicitis and she would be out in a day or so.  She hadn’t seen that evening as something he didn’t understand had happened during surgery and as he sat in the waiting room the doctor had come to see him.  He still remembered the sad look on his face as he closed the door and then said those words he’d heard almost every night since, ‘I’m sorry Mr Turner but’.

He had no idea what came after that as the words ‘I’m sorry’ told him everything he didn’t want to know.

He looked around him, he realised he was in hospital, the clinical white walls, the noise of people coming and going, but around his bed were curtains, why was he blocked off from the rest of the ward.  As the questions formed in his head, he tried to move but he noticed the tubes connected to his arm and then another tube coming from under the bed clothes, what the hell was going on he thought and lifted the bed covers to see a tube running underneath a white gown which he knew was not his, but he was wearing it all the same.

For a moment he thought about shouting but he changed his mind, he wanted to get his bearings before someone would answer his calls and then the talking would start again.

He laid his head back and he admitted to himself that the pillow beneath his head was comfortable, maybe more so than the one on his own bed, his eyes slowly moved around the small curtained off area and he could see a small cabinet by his bed, there was water in a jug and a small plastic glass next to it.  He looked further around but could see nothing and then he thought, no sign of his clothes.

He tried to think what the last thing he remembered was and finally closed his eyes, hoping it would help.  He remembered the barn and he was pulling an axe from the wall where it hung when not in use, he remembered the sound of the axe chopping through some wood.  He opened his eyes, he needed wood for the stove, but he had none.  He licked his lips and remembered he wanted a cup of tea, but he had no wood to light a fire in the stove.  He was going through the actions in his head when the curtain suddenly opened enough to let a nurse into his small sanctuary.  He looked at her and thought this was a child in one of those play outfit’s he’d seen his granddaughter wearing.  He stared at her and as she saw him looking at her, she smiled, ‘you’re awake Mr Turner, how are you feeling’.

He was about to say, ‘does your mother know you’re in here’, when she spoke again.

‘You’ve been asleep for almost twenty-four hours, it’s best that you rest, can I get you some water?’

He looked at the jug on the cabinet and then nodded slowly, his throat felt sore, and he knew if he spoke it would hurt, the nurse poured out a small amount of water into the plastic cup and held it to his mouth, ’here you go Mr Turner, take a drink’.