Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Well, I should probably let you go,” I say, my voice betraying me with a wobble. “I need to figure out how to get my stuff out of the car and into the cabin while it’s sleeting.”
“Just go in. Grab something of mine out of the closet to wear tonight, and I left a bunch of skincare products in our bathroom. The closet in the hallway has extra toothbrushes and toothpaste. Use that and get your stuff in the morning when it’s hopefully warmer and drier.”
That makes this feel slightly more manageable and a lot more like going inside is a done deal.
I sigh, and Astrid doesn’t miss it.
“Enjoy yourself, Auddie,” she says softly. “If it’s peace and quiet you’re after, you won’t find another place better than Blackbird Ranch.” She pauses. “Well, at least you’ll find it at our cabin. If you stop at Hartley’s or at any of the barns, I can’t promise that it’ll be peaceful or quiet.”
I grin softly. “Thanks again for letting me borrow your home. And thank Gray for me, too. I appreciate this very much.”
“Of course. What’s mine is yours.”
“You’re the best. I’ll text you when I’m inside and all settled.”
“Perfect. Have fun!”
“I will. Love you, Astrid.”
“Love you, Auddie. Bye.”
The call ends, and I shut off the Jeep. Without the headlights, I’m surrounded by a deep, suffocating darkness. It’s as if the world ends on the other side of the glass.
Aside from ice chips pelting the roof and the glow from the kitchen, there’s … nothing. No light, no sound, and no movement. Not a solitary sign of life. There is, however, just enough space for a dose of fear to creep up my spine, threatening to erase my excitement about being here.
I grab my phone and type out a quick text to Gianna. If anyone can distract me and override the incoming wave of anxiety, it’s her.
Me: Made it!
Her response comes immediately.
Gianna: I know you drive like a grandma, but that seriously took forever. I have no fingernails left.
Me: The weather got worse the farther I got from Nashville.
Gianna: You owe me a manicure. But you’re inside, and the doors are locked now?
Me: I’m sitting in my locked car, about to go inside the cabin and lock that door swiftly behind me.
Gianna: Okay. Text me later. You have my taser, right?
I giggle.
Me: Yes. It’s in my purse.
Gianna: Get it in your hand. Have I not taught you anything? How are you going to use it if you’re not wielding it?
Me: Excellent point.
Gianna: Love you.
Me: xoxoxo
I pause, staring at the screen and appreciating how lucky I am to have friends like Gianna and Astrid.
The three of us met in our first year of high school after my father took a job in Nashville. It was culture shock being from Boston, and my brother absolutely hated it. I, however, fell madly in love with everything about Tennessee, and having Astrid and Gianna welcome me into their fold was the cherry on top.
Shivering, I slide my phone into my purse and contemplate getting out the taser. But what are the odds that I need it? Besides, after a second look at the steps leading into the cabin, I’ll probably need both hands free in case I fall on the ice.
“The first step is always the hardest,” I say, bracing for the cold.
I grab my laptop bag from the passenger’s seat and tuck it into my jacket. Then I open my door, testing the slipperiness of the ground. It’s slick, but not too terribly treacherous, so I gingerly step out and swing the door shut behind me.
“Oh, this is nasty,” I whimper, making a beeline to the porch while getting pummeled with precipitation. The steps are coated with a glaze of sleet, and it takes careful use of the railing and all the balance I learned as a ballerina in my younger years to ascend them without my feet sliding right out from under me. By the time I make it inside, my teeth are chattering like a woodpecker.
“Maybe I should’ve waited until spring to have my personal awakening,” I groan, finding the light switch. As soon as the chandelier comes on, a wave of apple and cinnamon-scented air envelops me. It’s as if I’ve stepped into a cozy cocoon in the middle of the tundra.
For the first time since I left my house in Nashville, I can let my guard down.
I scan the room, taking in the patchwork of rustic features and modern touches. A stone fireplace, with a thick beam serving as the mantel, anchors the living area on my left. A chessboard sits mid-game on an antique map table in front of a worn brown leather sofa. That makes me smile. Chess is the only thing Astrid and Gray had in common when they first met. As soon as they started playing on the same board, so to speak, everything changed, and they fell in love.