Page 5 of Finding Home

“Mrs. Owens was so disappointed.”

“I bet.” Elle’s reply was more sarcastic than she meant.

“Next stop, Perry!” he cheered, walking to his SUV.

With her hands on the steering wheel, Elle sighed.“Here I come Perry-dise.”

THREE

“The more I know of the world, the more I am convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love.”

~Jane Austen,Sense and Sensibility

Lush green hills, leafy trees, pastures with potential “Happy Cow” models, and rivers painted the landscape as Elle drove the hour toward Perry. Western New York’s boundless beauty was decadent compared to the drought-soaked landscape of Southern California.

Loose gravel pinged on the car as she steered the rental down the long driveway. Below aLittle Red Barnsign, a white arrow pointed her to the right. A blue farmhouse with a turquoise front door claimed the other half of the maple and pine tree lined property. In between, there was a kidney-shaped pond and a small dock.

“This is like something out of a Hallmark movie.” Elle inhaled the air’s perfume of freshly mowed grass.

Pete parked behind her and jumped out of his SUV.

She dug through her purse. “I have instructions on how to get the key to this place.”

“No need.” He dangled a paw-shaped keychain from his thick fingers. “I have them. Doc Owens gave them to Janet. He gets flowers for guests from the Village Rose. When he put the order in on Monday, he gave Janet the keys.”

“Small towns.” The eye roll was involuntary.

For the next month, she’d have more moments like this. It wasn’t just a small town thing; it was a being the niece of Pete and Janet Coates thing. They were the Beyonce and Jay Z of Perry. Pete had a construction business, which oversaw most of the village’s renovations, and coached the high school football team. Janet worked at the Village Rose, Perry’s sole florist.

“By the way, Janet told Doc you don’t eat carbs, so no basket of baked goods. I told her not to mention it, in hopes of getting the spoils, but she has me on a diet for Tobey’s wedding.” Dread overcame his calm face. “Don’t tell her about your biscuit!”

“What biscuit?” Elle winked.

With a relieved breath, he placed the keys in her hand.Wipe your Pawswritten in fancy black script on a tan mat welcomed them as they reached the white-trimmed red barn door.

Airbnb listings often deceived. There were always little things missing, or certain angles used to make things appear more impressive. But pictures hadn’t captured the fresh citrus aroma that enveloped Elle upon entering and the way the sunlight kissed every crevice.

“This place is gorgeous.” She slipped her white heels off, leaving them by the door.

“Let’s not be fooled by a pretty face, let me check this place out,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

This place is perfect.Elle skated her fingers along the smooth surface of the antique desk tucked against the front window. Its sheer curtains offered a perfect view. Vibrant maple trees swayed in the gentle breeze outside. It was heaven until…

A shrill alarm burst her moment of Zen. “What the fu?—”

“Smoke detector works!” he shouted and turned off the alarm. “Sorry.” Pete’s mumbled approvals filled the barn with each completed item from his safety checklist.

As he worked, Elle wandered the space. A small island with a sink served as a barrier between the living room and kitchen. A white envelope withEleanorwritten in neat handwriting sat propped against a glass vase of sunflowers on the kitchen table. Opening it, she read.

Eleanor,

Thank you for making the Little Red Barn your home for the next 30 days. There are staples from the farmers market in the fridge. Fresh flowers will be delivered each Friday. I live in the farmhouse, if you need anything, please knock or text/call. You’ll find my number on the front of this.

I hope I passed your uncle’s inspection.

Best, Clayton.

“That Doc is a class act,” Pete whistled, walking over to the TV for the last item on his checklist; to ensure ESPN and Hallmark, his two favorite channels, were available.

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