“Okay, I exited the expressway thirty minutes ago and I’m still not seeing anything but trees, fields and fields of grass, and a bunch of cows. So, where in the hell is this place?” With both hands on the steering wheel, Tayler Carter yelled at her girlfriend Nicole through her car’s speakers using the Bluetooth feature.
“What exit did you take?”
“The Blue Belt Grassway, highway, or something like that, and I’ve only seen three cars in the last half hour. What is this, the road to nowhere?” The scenic drive was making Tayler’s bottom numb.
“Girl, I told you your GPS was going to go out on that road. Where are the directions I emailed you?”
Tayler shrugged and rolled her eyes, thankful Nicole couldn’t see her. She reached over for a piece of paper in the driver’s seat. “I’ve got my Mapquest directions.”
“Mapquest! I told you to use the directions I sent you. There’s a new road that isn’t on Mapquest. Maybe your GPS will pick up in a little while. Try it again.”
“Dammit.” Tayler let out a heavy sigh and eased her foot up off the gas pedal.
“Don’t worry, I’ll talk you in.”
“No, that’s not it,” she said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “I finally see another car on this freakin’ road and it’s a police car flashing his lights at me. How did I get so damn lucky?”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you the police are pretty heavy down there.”
“How come I have a feeling there’s a lot you’ve forgotten to tell me?”
“How fast were you going?”
“Let’s just say I doubt he’ll be satisfied with a warning.”
“Want me to hang on the line while you pull over?”
“No, I’ve got this. I’ll call you back later.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, white picket fences with large homes that sat back off the main road finally came into view. But only to be replaced seconds later by smaller houses with swings or rocking chairs on the front porches. As Tayler drove through what must have been downtown Danville, Kentucky, several people either waved or stared as she passed. They all seemed to have the one thing she didn’t have—family. She drove by the post office, several small churches and a few local stores as she followed her police escort, and then they swung a right, heading away from town. Soon they were back to white picket fences and another two-lane road.
She was accustomed to traveling alone, but had to admit to a touch of fear as her police escort carried her farther away from the town. The road had lots of twists and turns before opening up to lush fields of green farmland that took her breath away. The police car turned off the main road onto another country road.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a large white sign with black letters reading Coleman House Bed-and-Breakfast.
Here at last.
The officer slowed and let her pull her BMW to a stop beside him. She lowered her window. In his dark shades he sort of reminded her of actor Jake Gyllenhaal.
“Just keep on this road,” he said in his local dialect. “The farm’s a couple yards down the way.”
“Thank you. I appreciate this.”
“No problem. Be sure and tell Rollin Greg said hello.”
She waved. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
The police car turned around and spun back out onto the road. She continued down a long oak tree–lined path, which yielded to another sign—Coleman Organic Farm. So I really am in the country, on a farm and all, she thought. She turned off the air conditioner and lowered the windows. She wanted to smell the country. Did it really smell like cows and pigs, or grass and fresh air? In her thirty-six years she’d never been to the country. She preferred the city with all its modern conveniences. This vacation was going to be an experience she knew she’d never forget.
The road curved and the oak trees ended. Ahead of her sat a miniature version of Tara, the mansion from Gone With the Wind, one of her favorite romantic movies. The house had the same four white columns on the porch and gave off a grand appearance. A warm, fuzzy feeling consumed her and put a smile on her face. She pulled her car into one of the parking spaces in front and looked up at the house as if a footman would be exiting any minute to help her with her luggage.
Laughing to herself, she opened the car door and stepped out, stretching out her arms. After a seven-hour drive, she was ready for a good meal and a soft bed. Her Jimmy Choo platform heels might have been perfect for helping her five-three frame reach the gas pedal, but they quickly sank into the gravel driveway, risking scuffs. She reached back into the car and pulled a tube of peppermint lip gloss from her purse and applied some before licking her lips. She adjusted her sunglasses and closed the car door. Pulling her suitcase from the trunk and rolling it through the gravel to the blacktop leading to the house was no easy task. She stopped to take in the view once more. The place was magnificent. In the distance she saw a man sitting on a tractor in the middle of the field. Just like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, she thought.
The front door swung open as she moved her suitcase up the handicapped ramp.
“Welcome to Coleman House Bed and Breakfast. You must be Tayler Carter.”
Surprised to be greeted by an older man in a pair of overalls holding a large pitcher of something, Tayler stopped and removed her sunglasses.
“Yes, I am.”
“Come on in. She’s been expecting you.”
She? Tayler had thought Nicole’s cousin was a man. She pulled her suitcase across the front porch past two large white rocking chairs.
The man juggled the pitcher in his hand and reached for her suitcase. “Let me get that for you. Would you like a glass of lemonade?”
“No thank you.”
She stepped inside, expecting a grand foyer like the one at Tara.
“You can just step over to the counter there.” He nodded to a small area to the right of the staircase. “My wife will get you all settled in. I’ll be right back.”
He left her suitcase at the foot of the stairs and disappeared down the hall.
Was that Rollin, she wondered.
Tayler did a 360, taking in the custom drapes, the wide spiral staircase and the antique furniture scattered about. The house had an intimate look and feel to it.
“Well, you must be Tayler.”
A middle-aged woman walked up