The statuesque farmhouse fit perfectly in the open field surrounded by large oaks and pines. Her car's headlights illuminated the front porch as they came around the final bend of the pathway.
Parking the car in front of the unattached garage, Shelly barely had time to turn off the ignition before her door was ripped open. Her best friend stood impatiently, bouncing on her toes, as she waited for Shelly to exit. A tight embrace enveloped her as she stepped from the driver’s side of the car and she felt her body lean into the hug.
“I am so glad that you’re here,” Cassidy whispered, then took a step back to gaze at Shelly at an arm’s length.
“We’re excited to be here. Figured it was time to give in to your constant nagging.”
“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Cassidy said with a flick of her hand as she moved to the back of the car to open the door for Abel, who was anxiously bopping in his seat.
“Three years, every time we spoke,” Shelly reminded just as her son freed himself from the car. Abel flung himself at Cassidy and Shelly repressed the sigh at her son’s ease of affection. While she had closed off her heart, her son gave love freely.
“Let’s get you guys inside. Harlan said the moving truck is expected tomorrow. Do you have a change of clothes for the night?” Cassidy asked.
“Yeah, I packed us a small suitcase.” As she unlatched the trunk and reached in for their small suitcase, Shelly inquired, “So, can you tell me about the place I’m renting?”
“Oh,” Cassidy said nonchalantly as she gripped Abel’s hand and led him inside her house.
“Cassidy.”
Spinning on her heels her friend looked at her apologetically. “Look, I’m sorry. I haven’t seen the place, but I know it’s going to be great. It’s big enough for the two of you and just remodeled. Plus, it’s on the Sheriff’s land. How much safer could you get?”
Shelly silently followed Cassidy into her home pondering her friend’s question. But all she could come up with was wondering what she had got herself into.
Chapter Three
He probably should have aired out of the cabin when he got home from work last night, but he had been drawn to the baseball game and couldn’t pull himself away.
Stepping onto his back porch in the early morning light, he was immediately assaulted by the thick muggy air. It was going to be a hot and sweltering day and Preston could only hope that the new HVAC system he installed last summer at the cabin was ready to work hard.
When he found the cabin on his property, it had always been his goal to rent it out. The house sat on a small clearing of land just within the tree line of his own house. Though they would share a driveway, the cabin was completely self-functioning. He even made sure the internet could be hooked up. After he initially fixed it up, he had asked Austin Connelly, a local architect and contractor, if he knew of anyone interested in renting the apartment, but nothing had ever come of it. Preston wasn’t sure if that’s because no one wanted to live on the town Sheriff’s land or if Austin was holding a grudge about his sister. It seemed like that one mistake was going to haunt him for the remainder of his life.
Tossing his keys in the air and then catching them, Preston made his way toward his truck. The bed held the two cans of interior paint and the large buckets of exterior paint. Even with the paint sprayer he had rented for the
weekend from the hardware store, he wasn’t sure how he would get it all done in a weekend. Maybe he should reach out to Cassidy and tell her that renting the cabin wasn’t a good idea after all.
Driving farther back on his property, the cabin came into view and Preston could no longer fight against his smile. He really did have a soft spot for the small structure on his land. It also gave him piece of mind that Shelly would be close by where he could keep her safe.
He had done so much undercover work in his past that many of them melded together into one ongoing scene and persona. But his initial covert operation to infiltrate a mafia funded drug cartel would forever be etched in his mind. The drugs are what got the FBI’s attention, but the weapon and human trafficking are what put them at the top of the dismantle list. Preston was young and arrogant, and to this day, he would never forget the look of horror on the young woman’s face before she fell to the floor as they arrested her boyfriend and subsequently her until they could clear her of the charges. So many things had gone wrong that day; not only had he changed that woman’s life forever, but they learned that there had been a leak and the cartel knew someone was a mole. The group was smarter than anyone gave them credit for.
Shaking his head, Preston rid his mind of his past blunders and turned off his truck. The day was already starting off hotter than normal, so the exterior painting would need to come first. Luckily, the cabin’s wood siding was still in good shape, but the paint's previous white coat had faded. Loading up the paint sprayer, he went to work getting the first coat of paint on the outside.
It took three coats for the white to look as fresh and clean as Preston had wanted and as he cleaned out the sprayer with the hose attached to the house, he noticed the sound of a truck approaching. Turning off the spigot, Preston spun around to find a large black diesel truck approaching. He recognized the truck since he helped pick it out.
Putting the sprayer on the ground, Preston walked over to the large truck as Dylan jumped down from the driver’s seat and rushed around the other side to open Sydney's passenger door. Then in the back of the cab, Austin and his wife Nikki exited as well.
“Hey,” he greeted as he wiped his hands on his grungy jeans before holding his hand out for his friend. “What are you guys doing here?”
As Dylan shook his hand in response, Sydney chimed in. “We’re here to help. We’re a little late because the men thought they had better ideas for furniture than us women. They were very wrong. That and the drive back from Asheville took forever.”
“Wait; what?”
Clarifying Sydney’s statement, Dylan said, “We figured you needed help, but would never ask. And we wanted to have furniture here for Shelly and her son. So, what can we do?”
Preston wasn’t sure if he should hug the collective group or stare at them as if they’d each grown two heads. Sydney took the option from him as she reached out and squeezed his arm in a friendly manner.
“So, what can we do?”
“Um. . .I just finished painting the exterior. I was moving to the inside walls next. But first, I need to turn the main breaker on and make sure the HVAC kicks on.”