The minutes clicked off on the clock.
Sheila glanced in her rearview at the piled luggage and gifts for her two-week trip. Shiny foil wrapping paper gleamed in the sunlight from the Jenga-stacked gifts.
She affectionately tapped the steering wheel of the fire-engine-red Tesla Model X. Thank you, Dr. Tanning. She still couldn’tbelieve the deal. Extravagant? Absolutely. Impulse buy? Definitely. But as it turned out, the sweet ride had also been the ticket to soothe the what’s-missing-in-my-life mood she’d been battling lately.
Frustrated, sitting there behind the big rig in traffic, she tried to call Natalie. Unfortunately, there was no phone service.
Finally, after another four minutes, the cars started moving.
It took some time for the truck in front of her to shift through gears and get up some speed, but as she slowly moved forward, she saw the culprit of the gridlock.
She was thankful it hadn’t been an accident, but what were the odds of seeing a farmer wearing a bright orange hat following a Border collie herding goats across the street?
That’s a first.
The animals meandered along the side of the road nibbling and exploring, proving the whole grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side thing. The farmer calmly ushered his herd toward a red pole gate, while the dog did his job running behind them, nipping and barking, to get them to move. One big white goat with a red head wasn’t ready to give up the brushy foliage so easily, though. Instead of moving, she lowered her head and then rose up on her hind feet. The Border collie didn’t seem concerned, making a wider circle and coming back around until the goat finally moved on with a big hunk of greenery hanging from her mouth.
As Sheila got closer, she noticed that one of the other goats was wearing a Christmas sweater.
She chuckled to herself and gave the farmer a wave as she drove by. The image of the goat wearing the red and green Christmas sweater stuck with her all day, bringing a smile to her face every time it popped into her mind.
The rest of the drive to Chestnut Ridge was pleasant enough,and although the trees had shed their leaves weeks ago, it was pretty. The lazy bluish haze hung over the mountains like a water- color. She could see why Natalie appreciated these views.
Sheila pulled into the driveway at Orene’s house at four o’clock, only an hour and a half after she’d planned to be there. The Mountain Creek Inn, which wasn’t an inn at all, truly was a grand old house, and a lot of it. The Colonial Revival–style country farmhouse with its wraparound porch was inviting. Even on these cold days, she could imagine sitting in one of those rocking chairs. The last time she was here, the hanging baskets were overflowing with vivid raspberry-colored bougainvillea.
Today each basket had red and white poinsettias, variegated ivy, and a big candy-striped bow that matched the one on the door wreath, which also sported a single white ice skate in the center of the circle of pine. Colored balls and pine cones gave the wreath a playful beauty that had her imagining an afternoon on the ice spinning like an ice skater in a flowing short skirt.
Before she could get the ice dancing out of her mind and get out of the car, Orene stepped out on the porch.
Natalie came out behind Orene, and jogged past her and down the driveway as Sheila got out of the car. “It’s so good to see you. I was starting to worry,” she said as she pulled Sheila into a hug. “Let me help you with something.”
“I was going to call, but I didn’t have a signal half the drive. I even got stuck in traffic for a goat crossing. Don’t even ask.” Sheila lifted her hand. “I can hardly believe those words came out of my mouth.”
“Well, forget about the goats. Tell me how the car drove. Did you let it do the driving for you?”
“Heck no. I’m not trusting a car to be smarter than I am.”
“We’re going to try that hands-free driving while you’re here. I can’t wait.”
“Fair warning. This car is pretty cool, but enjoy it now, because I plan to sell it for a healthy profit to treat myself to something else, like a fun trip somewhere.”
“You always say that but you never go anywhere. You’re a workaholic. Admit it.”
“Until they create a twelve-step program for that, I’m not considering it a problem.”
“Fair enough,” Natalie said. “Come on.”
Sheila got her bags from the passenger seat, and she and Natalie walked up to the house.
“Hey, darlin’. Welcome!” Orene spread her arms and hugged Sheila tight. “It’s good to see you. Thank you for staying with me. You have no idea how happy I am about this visit.”
“I appreciate you letting me stay with you in the real house.” Sheila shot a look in the direction of Natalie, who knew full well she was teasing. “Natalie offered me the cabin, but I’d rather hang out with you.”
“Honey, you are welcome here any time you like,” said Orene. “I might even put your name right on that door.”
“I’d be okay with that,” Sheila said.
“Come in and relax. We can get the boys to bring in your stuff later,” Orene said. “Some say chivalry is dead. I say not as long as Orene Fischer is around. I make sure those men remember where the term ‘gentleman’ came from. They need to know how to act. I tell ’em so.”
