Page 17 of Broken Pieces
Chapter Nine
Raelynn
It feels like we’ve been driving for hours when it’s only been thirty minutes. It seems Easton wants to hide me in the backwoods somewhere more for Harper’s safety and the baby rather than my own.
Harper had a mild concussion and the baby was fine. According to Harper, the baby went through a lot more when she didn’t even know she was pregnant. She didn’t think Logan would try to come back. Easton obviously had different thoughts about the whole thing.
That is why he is driving me out to their friend’s, Summer and Brett, farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Summer has slowly been renovating the house with the help of Harper. Most of the major renovations happened last summer before Summer and Brett got married on the property. Now they are just finishing up bedrooms to turn it into a functioning bed and breakfast. Don’t ask me why the hell anyone would want to stay at a bed and breakfast out here.
Another ten minutes goes by and we are pulling through a half-completed cobblestone gated drive. Crews are working on the wall as well as the landscaping up the drive, a trail of magnolia trees being planted. Once I see the house my entire theory on everything is blown away.
The house is gorgeous. Plantation style of days old. The entire front of the house has a porch on both the ground and second floors. Pillars connect the porches to the roof. I can see from the angle we drive in the first-floor porch wraps around the side. I can only imagine what the inside of the house must look like.
“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Harper asks me as I crane my head out the window from the backseat. “The property was almost derelict when they bought it. But we’ve been slowly fixing it up.”
Easton starts laughing. “The property was not derelict. It was in decent shape. They spent a shit ton of money on this.”
“Well, it didn’t look anything like it does now,” Harper sasses him. She goes on to tell me how the house badly needed a new kitchen and open walls in the main living area, a dated old house with good bones to restore its southern charm.
I couldn’t disagree. The white house with green shutters makes me think of the month I lived in Savannah. I was so mesmerized by the house I didn’t even realize we parked.
I jump out of the truck as a pregnant woman comes waddling down the stairs. “Oh my goodness, you are here! I am so excited!”
Excited? How could someone be excited about my house arrest being moved into their property?
“Harper and Ivy have been going on and on about your baking and I cannot wait to see what you can do here!”
“Umm, what?”
I glance over at Harper who quickly averts eye contact with me.
“Oh, they didn’t tell you? They told me you would help with the bed and breakfast. Help with all the baked goods for breakfast and treats to welcome my guests with! Oh, and I am Summer by the way. We met so many moons ago when you were just a tween. But you are all grown up now! And here to help us with our dream!”
I stare dumbfounded at her before I turn a glare on Harper.
“Okay, we were gonna tell you, Rae. I swear. We just didn’t know how to and then time kinda lost itself on us and then we were busy with the diner and the baby and then suddenly we were here.”
Easton bugs his eyes out at Harper, “You are spendin’ far too much time with Ivy. You are startin’ to sound just like her.” Harper just shrugs her shoulders at him.
“So let me get this straight. I am being put on house arrest out here in the middle of nowhere and you expect me to help someone I haven’t seen in almost ten years run her business?”
“Well no,” Harper answers. “We also thought you would keep baking for the diner too.”
“What? How the hell am I supposed to do that? It’s like an hour away.”
“We are working out the logistics.”
“We thought it would keep you busy and your mind focused,” Easton cuts in.
I roll my eyes and walk past them, mumbling a hello to Summer. I walk up the stairs to my new home, past the rocking chairs on the front porch that I can’t wait to drink Arnold Palmers on, though I won’t admit it, and walk right through the front door. I stop in my tracks as I am blown away by the curved staircase leading to the second floor. I glance to my right and see a comforting lounge area complete with an old-fashioned bar, pool table, and fireplace. As I walk to my left a massive living room with a u-shape of three couches face toward the wraparound porch letting in a ton of light. I turn toward the back of the house where a dining room sits. The dining room opens into a massive chef’s kitchen that can be blocked off by a sliding barn door, I am guessing for more formal events. I cannot believe the kitchen. I am standing in complete awe.
“Ain’t too bad, don’t ya think?”
I turn around to see Summer grinning at me. I can barely nod in response as I run my hands along the surface of the white quartz countertops. I walk toward the massive stove top with eight burners and notice not one but two ovens underneath it.
“I’ve only ever dreamed about baking in a kitchen like this,” I tell Summer.
“Well, one day we hope to host weddings here. I mean we have a few small ones coming up and I wanted to be able to have a place where food could be prepared and not just catered in.”