Chapter Six
When Drew had wandered into Butler’s Bake Shop, he’d hoped for a quiet breakfast to collect his thoughts. He quickly realized he’d picked the wrong place for that.
According to the town gossips, Fairwind had already been sold.
Worse, it had been sold to two nostalgic sisters who wanted to restore the old place and “give the town back their farm.” For a minute, he’d almost felt like he’d been at a Save Our Farm rally, the way they were carrying on.
But all he could see was the potential for danger. The idea of Fairwind reopening, bringing in busloads of unsupervised children, set something off inside him. Panic? Everyone seemed intent on remembering Fairwind before tragedy had hit. Had they all blocked out the reason the farm eventually went under?
He found Roxie patiently waiting for him in the passenger seat of his truck.
“You wanna walk, girl?” He hooked a leash onto her collar, much to her dismay. “Sorry, Rox. City rules are different than country rules.”
As if he could call Willow Grove a city.
The fifteen-hour drive from Colorado to Illinois had taken Drew, well, a lot less than fifteen hours. It helped that he didn’t require many stops, he’d packed a cooler and he routinely drove twenty miles over the speed limit. He’d been so amped up when he arrived, he’d checked into a landmark hotel downtown and headed straight for the diner.
Now, the tiredness he’d been ignoring landed right behind his eyes, but Roxie needed some outdoor time. He owed her that much for ripping her away from home and forcing her to put up with an impromptu road trip.
Drew crossed the street, heading toward what looked like open grass for Roxie to run. He hadn’t been back here since he was what, nine? Ten? And yet, something about this place was exactly as he’d left it, as if the town had been frozen in time. He supposed that’s why the locals wanted Fairwind back. Everyone wanted that little piece of Mayberry.
Which meant this place was completely unprotected.
The downtown looked like an old postcard with red brick buildings on either side of the road. Each doorway was adorned with an overhead sign that jutted out perpendicular from the side of the building, giving a name to whatever occupied each space. An ice cream parlor. A jewelry store. A bank. A general store. Antiques and vintage markets. Restaurants and coffee shops. They all coexisted right there downtown.
Old-fashioned lampposts dotted the street, and on the corner sat a horse-drawn carriage. It wasn’t quite tourist season yet, but there were plenty of people out enjoying the spring sunshine.
Then there was the historical side of this place. Once the home of two different US presidents, Willow Grove had all kinds of stories to tell. And tell them, it did. There were museums and house tours and reenactments—a school field-trip destination for elementary kids within a two-hour drive in any direction.
As Drew reached the other side of the street, someone shoved a piece of paper at him.
“Community Work Day out at Fairwind Farm this weekend. Hope to see you there.” The young woman handed a flyer to another passerby and repeated the same words.
He watched as she handed out another flyer, then another, each time saying the same thing. He stared at the paper. Even the image of the old farm stirred something inside him.
The girl—tall, thin, brunette, probably mid-twenties—smiled at him. “You’re not a local, are you? Sorry.” She snatched the flyer out of his hand, then glanced at Roxie. “What a beautiful dog.”
“Thanks.” He felt out of sorts after his night of no sleep. Or maybe it was hearing the whole town cheer over the thought of reopening Fairwind Farm. Or maybe it was the photo on that flyer.
The girl squatted in front of Roxie and let the big dog sniff her face. “What a sweetheart,” she said. “What’s her name?”
“Roxie.”
“I love it.”
Drew shook his head as he watched Roxie revel in the attention. “She seems to like you.” He motioned to the flyer in the girl’s hand. “Do you mind?”
She gave Roxie one more head pat and stood. “Not at all.”
He scanned the flyer. “So, are you the new owner of Fairwind Farm?”
She grinned proudly. “I am.” She thrust her hand at him, and he shook it. “Molly Whitaker.”
“Drew Barlow.”
Molly continued to hand out flyers to passersby.
People liked friendly people. He’d try to be one of those. “What’s your plan for the old place?” He reminded himself to keep his tone light. He wanted to get in there and take a look around, but he didn’t want to come off as a creepy stranger trespassing on someone else’s property. It’d be so much easier if she’d let him in.
“You know Fairwind? I’ve never seen you around here before.”
“I used to come here with my parents when I was a kid.”
Molly hugged the flyers. “Wasn’t it special? That’s what I want to make it again. I thought we’d start with a Community Work Day. Willow Grove loved that old farm once upon a time. I just know they’ll love it again.”
Drew saw an opportunity. “Maybe I can help.”
“Really?” She grinned, and while he certainly didn’t presume to know either of the Whitaker sisters, they seemed about as different as they could be. He hadn’t purposely eavesdropped back at the diner, but no one in that place was exactly quiet. The other sister seemed uptight, like she’d spent too many days in an office.
Judging by her conversation with the loud woman who’d practically accosted her and then the waitress, she already had her ticket out of town in her back pocket. This sister, on the other hand, could’ve been Willow Grove’s spokeswoman.
“Do you have experience with any of this construction-type stuff?” She still smiled at him.
“I have a little bit.”
“But you’re not a local. You don’t have to put in a full day of work in a town where you don’t even live.”
“I know I don’t have to,” he said. “I want to.”
“Well, okay then. We’ll see you Saturday.”
He nodded as she gave Roxie another quick ear rub and walked away.
Molly was an idealist, but before long, she’d realize she was in over her head. He almost felt sorry for her.
But she wasn’t his concern. He had a clear goal: get into Fairwind, dig around, see if the visit shook loose any old memories and get back to Colorado.
He glanced at the flyer, a simple photo of the old farm with the words “Community Work Day” handwritten above it. The details were listed below, also handwritten. Simple, the way they did things here, not unlike the way he did things back at Elkhorn—but with a whole lot more baggage.
The work day provided the perfect opportunity to get into the old barn and explore.
If only he knew what he was looking for.
Maybe being back at Fairwind would fill in the gaps of his spotty memories, not that he was too anxious to relive that dreadful day. But if this is what it took to find that elusive closure, he’d do it.
Besides, he owed it to Jess.