When Fences Fall: Small-town, grumpy sunshine romance, page 1
WHEN FENCES FALL
LANDELL FAMILY, BOOK 1
ARIANA CANE
CONTENTS
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Epilogue
Afterword
Acknowledgments
Also by Ariana Cane
Copyright © 2025 by Ariana Cane.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author at the contact form @arianacane.com or email at ariana@arianacane.com.
No part of this book can be used to train any kind of AI.
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.
ISBN:
Editor: Lore Alexander
Proofreader: Lore Alexander
Covers design: Books & Moods
Photographer: Wander Aguiar
Cover Model: Jeff Button
www.arianacane.com
To all my Queens of the Weird out there,
as Cody Rigsby once said: “Heads up, tits up,
let’s f*ck it up.”
FOREWORD
Hello, My Wonderful Reader!
Welcome to Big Love, Maine! If you’re a returning reader, you’ll spot familiar faces from my Little Hope series popping up here, with more crossovers to come in future books. All my stories share the same universe, so your favorite characters may appear anywhere you turn!
For a list of trigger warnings, please visit my website at www.arianacane.com.
If you want a bonus Jericho & Nora scene (with the secrets of Dancing Pony, IYKYK), check it out at the end of the book!
P.S. Don’t miss the character art at the end of this book! For a full-color version, check out my Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/arianacaneauthor/.
Now, dive into Big Love, Maine, and let the adventure begin!
~xo-xo,
Ariana
PROLOGUE
Irun to the back, down the staircase, and outside just to come to a screeching stop. There’s a ghost in my yard! No, not a ghost. A woman with long, red hair covering her completely bare back, but not long enough to cover her naked ass, is standing in my yard.
She places the sheet she had wrapped around her body on the ground. Her pale skin glows nearly translucent under the bright moonlight.
As I’m preparing to scold whoever she is, the woman bends over to spread something that looks like a blanket on the ground, fixing the corners. While she’s naked.
What is happening?
I stride toward the intruder who is in my backyard—my backyard with a six-foot fence around the perimeter. By the time I’m out my door and running toward her, she’s already sitting on the ground with legs crossed. Her arms are raised in the air, her head thrown back.
“What are you doing here?” I bark when I’m about twenty feet away from her.
She shrieks, jumping in the air and pulling her long hair over her chest. “Who are you?” she cries out.
1
Jericho
Now this is something I can call ‘home,’ I think, admiring the Victorian house I just purchased.
A two-story beige building with a steep black roof and original millwork on solid bay windows, including a quaint porch with a wooden swing at the front, all working in favor of a homey vibe. Exactly what I’ve been looking for.
The place is almost falling apart, but it’s mine. It’ll need a little patience and a lot of TLC, but I’d never buy something for myself that doesn’t need fixing. It sort of comes with the territory. I’ve built so many homes for others that I wouldn’t want someone else to build one for me.
I came here directly from the lawyer’s office after signing the purchase papers. All my stuff is in the bed of my truck as always, so I’m planning to stay here for the night. Living on the road has its perks—one doesn’t possess much, so it’s easier to be mobile.
The house is located at the end of a quiet street, with only one other house sharing a tall, wooden fence. I haven’t met the neighbors yet, never saw anyone or heard a peep during the times I came here for any walkthroughs. But the real estate agent swears by the serenity of the place.
The next nearest house is far down the road and separated by a line of thick evergreen trees, giving my house the solitude I need.
This is exactly what motivated me to purchase it—the lack of neighbors and noise. I want my peace and quiet. I’ve earned it.
The sound of a sports car moving my way tells me that my realtor is approaching. And rather fast. A yellow Mustang parks behind my truck, and Jonah climbs out, fixing his bright purple three-piece suit. I’d never be caught dead wearing anything so flashy, preferring simple and versatile plaid, especially around here where I want to blend in without drawing unnecessary attention, but to each their own. Jonah seems like a person who loves attention wherever he goes.
“Here are your keys. The deed is recorded, so you are good to go,” he calls out as he heads my way. “Congratulations!” He offers his hand for a handshake, and I accept it—after I take the keys.
“Thanks, Jonah. For that,” I shake the keys in the air, “and for the help with the deal.”
“No problem.” He smiles. “Not much going on in Little Hope recently real estate-wise, so I’m glad I got out of there to expand a little.” Sighing wistfully, he places his hands on his hips and looks around. “I just might get something for myself here too. The area is so nice. Little Hope has gossipy chickens.” He widens his eyes at me. “Don’t get me wrong, I like juicy gossip just like the next guy, but this town seems to have it all figured out. Hallmark style, if you know what I mean.”
I don’t. I’ve never seen a Hallmark movie, and I don’t believe in stories with happy endings, but I hope for one for myself here.
Little Hope is a neighboring small town. At first, I considered staying there, but there’re a few people from the town who know me and my story a little too well, especially the sheriff. That alone deterred me from settling in Little Hope. Instead, I decided to settle in Big Love. Ironic.
For the tenth time—today only—I wonder who named the places around here and if they could make it any cheesier. Hallmark indeed.
“You think Big Love doesn’t have gossip?” I ask in a surprised tone. If a person has ever been in one small town, they’ve been in them all—the rumor mill is the power source of a place like this.
“Nah.” He waves his hand in the air dismissively. “It’s the sweetest place on earth, you’ll see.”
I nod with slight hesitation. “That’s what I was looking for, but I’m not sure such a place exists.” Especially in a small town.
“You’re from a small town yourself?” Jonah asks, carefully side-eyeing me.
“Yes.” That’s all I offer because the less everyone knows, the better. Though I wonder why he hasn’t asked around about me—people do it all the time in small towns. Hopefully, I’m just not that interesting. That’s the best I can hope for.
Jonah’s face stretches with a big smile despite my short answer. “Yes,” he confirms something known only to him. “Small towns have their charms. You ever been to Little Hope? It’s not far from here.”
“I have.” Looks like I’m finally forced to disclose my connection to the town. If he’s really from there, it’s just a matter of time till he learns everything about me there’s to know. “I worked on a house there.”
“Really?” he singsongs, tapping his finger on his chin. “Which one?”
“The Ghost House,” I reply with a chuckle. The name sure is deserving. The house is gorgeous but very old, making whining and creaking sounds with every change of temperature or humidity, so the
“Oh!” His eyes widen. “Now I recall where I’ve heard your name. You worked with Josie, right?”
I nod. Josie was hesitant to work with me at first since I disclosed my past right away, but now we work on many projects together. She doesn’t ask questions anymore, which means I don’t need to talk.
Jonah’s smiling, waiting for me to say more, but I don’t. So he claps his hands and points at the house. “Do you want me to walk with you one last time?”
“I’m good. Thanks though.”
“Sure. Congratulations on your purchase! Don’t hesitate to call me should you need anything.” His brows wiggle while mine draw together, making him laugh. “Also, I just recently took this house to my portfolio, but I know there was some bum living here a couple of years ago. So it might need an itty-bitty,” he shows a small space between his index finger and thumb, “more TLC than you think.”
“I’ll be fine.”
His face stretches with a wide smile once again. I don’t think I’ve met anyone who loves smiling as much as he does. “I know you will. Call me if you need anything.” He starts walking backward, waving his hand.
“Do you know anything about the neighbors?” I nod at the other house on the road before he’s gone. With all the bureaucracy of closing the house, I never actually asked the question that’s been bothering me.
His head whips toward the house and then back to me. “Oh, the Moons are the sweetest family. The whole town loves them. They own the local diner, you should try it,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. Then he starts giggling. “Everyone in this town loves everyone. Hence the name. You’ll be fine.”
I watch him disappear inside his car and drive off at the same speed he arrived, then switch my attention back to the house. Hopefully it’s some nice, elderly couple who doesn’t like loud music and prefers to keep to themselves because I don’t want some neighbor knocking on my door at seven in the morning asking for sugar in hopes of striking up a conversation.
2
Jericho
Unlocking a new house one now owns is a thing everyone should experience in their life. I lived with my parents before I got into troubles, after that I was either renting or living in a trailer on work sites. Either is fine, but having something you can call your own gives a new perspective on life. At thirty-four years old, this is exactly what I need.
After a thorough walk-through, I mark all the things that need to be done. Cleaning the primary bedroom and bath being the priority because I’m planning to have my first guest very soon. It’s eleven a.m., and I’ve got a lot of ground to cover before the evening.
By the time I’m done, I’m a sweaty mess. After a quick shower, I find Hot Pockets I purchased at a gas station on the way here and throw them into an ancient, yellow microwave. Surprisingly, it still works. Making a mental note to do some grocery shopping and figure out the nearest pizza joint, I grab the food and fall into an old chair that came with the house.
It’s almost midnight, and this is only my second meal today since my morning coffee and ham and Swiss sandwich. I tend to get hangry, so the lack of people is very fortunate right now.
Right when I’m about to take a bite, my phone rings.
“Yeah,” I sigh tiredly when I press Accept.
“How is the new place, bro? Already scare all the old ladies in the vicinity?” My brother Jethro chuckles at his unfunny joke. It happened only once. I was wearing boxers and had an axe in my hands. It was dark, and I was chopping wood for the fire because it was late November, and it was freezing. We were building a house in the middle of nowhere Vermont, so I’m not sure where that old lady appeared from. When she saw me yielding that axe, she shrieked and fainted which should have been my reaction, not hers. We had to call an ambulance for her. I mean, I’m no small guy, and I guess the axe didn’t help, but that reaction was overdramatic. My brother likes bringing up this story as some sort of permanent punishment.
“How’s Junie?” I ask, ignoring his jab.
“Adjusting. Somewhat.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“I know. I just wish it was faster. Speaking of faster. Are you sure you didn’t jump into buying that house too quickly? And staying so close? Still in Maine?”
“It’s home, Jethro. Always has been.” Even if it doesn’t feel like one quite yet. “I’m not leaving.”
“Yeah. You shouldn’t.” His heavy sigh is loud enough for Canada to hear. He’s not over it. Even when I am.
“The realtor told me everyone is nice here.” I reroute our conversation from the place neither of us wants to be.
A snort. “Of course he did. He needed to sell the place.”
“No, man. It’s really quiet here.” I take a deep breath in. “Very peac—”
A loud thunk outside stops me mid-word.
“What?”
“Hold on, Jethro. I’ll call you back.”
“Wha—”
I don’t let him finish and hang up because I see… a ghost in my backyard. A figure in a white sheet crosses the yard and drops said sheet to reveal an equally white naked body.
What the actual—
I run to the back, down the staircase, and outside just to come to a screeching stop. There’s someone there, all right. But it’s not a ghost. A woman with long, red hair covering her completely bare back, but not long enough to cover her naked ass, is standing in my yard. She places the sheet she had wrapped around her body on the ground. Her pale skin glows nearly translucent under the bright moonlight.
As I’m preparing to scold whoever she is, the woman bends over to spread something that looks like a blanket on the ground, fixing the corners. While she’s naked.
What is happening?
I stride toward the intruder who is in my backyard—my backyard with a six-foot fence around the perimeter. By the time I’m out my door and running toward her, she’s already sitting on the ground with legs crossed. Her arms are raised in the air, her head thrown back.
“What are you doing here?” I bark when I’m about twenty feet away from her.
She shrieks, jumping in the air and pulling her long hair over her chest. Thank fuck because I don’t need to be accused of something I didn’t do while this looney is the one who should be charged with indecent exposure on my property.
“Who are you?” she cries out.
“Me?” I circle her figure, still sitting on the ground, and come to face her.
She lifts up her knees to her chest and crisscrosses her feet, taking a pose of a sitting embryo. Her hair covers her like a blanket. It’s long and lush, so it covers enough for me not to have to avert my eyes.
“Yes, you.” Her chin goes up. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” I reply, pouring as much poison into my voice as I can. So much for spending the first night in my new house peacefully.
“Here?” Her right red brow goes up, and I wonder if it’s her real hair color. On cue, without being able to control it, my gaze drops down. Her now both raised brows are a clear indication that she’s noticed. “You pervert!” she yells, pulling all her hair to her front.
“Me?” I yell back. “You’re the one sitting buck naked in my backyard. Put the damn sheet back on.” My finger points at the white pile by her side.
“I can’t!” For some reason, she’s yelling too. Somehow, in the span of a minute, this whole situation has turned into a yelling match.
“Why?” I match her volume.
“Because I need the moonlight to touch my bare skin at midnight,” she explains in an arrogant tone, like this knowledge is so common only idiots are not aware of it. Which is me, I am the idiot.
I rear back, stunned. “This can’t be happening,” I mumble, shaking my head, then add louder, “Go to a different place.”
“I can’t. I’ve planted peaches in my backyard,” she nods at the only neighboring house hidden behind a very tall fence, “and they cover the sky now.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take a few deep, calming breaths. “Why did you plant the damn peaches if you knew they’d cover your yard?” I find myself asking without even wanting to know the answer.
