“Please.”
“Hello.” I smile at the receptionist of the tourist center. “Have you got any B and Bs available for two nights, please?”
The woman behind the desk types away.
We stayed in a hideous hotel last night, and Jameson refuses to stay there again. He said we can only stay the full weekend if I find somewhere half-decent for the next two nights. He’s chasing coffee outside for us.
The rain is gone, and at some stage we have to go back and pick up the camping stuff from the Armageddon storm last night. We just got our things and left. There was nothing we could do in the middle of the night in those conditions anyway.
“I only have a farmhouse.” She types and then reads. “Arndell is the property.”
I frown as I listen.
“It’s available for two nights, and you can have that at a discounted rate if you want.”
I smile. I love that she thinks we need a discount. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you.” I slide over Jameson’s credit card, and she does the paperwork.
“Here are the keys.” She hands me a map. “Go down to Falls Road, and then the property has its own road in on the right.”
“Oh, how big is it?”
“The house is on three hundred acres. The land is gorgeous. The house is a little tired, but the location is stunning.”
I smile. “Cool, okay.”
I bounce out to the pickup to see my poor disheveled man. He looks like he’s been to hell and back, and funnily enough, I think it’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. It’s as if that sanity rubber band that broke in him last night released some of his tension.
“Okay, we got a farmhouse.”
He reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh and hands me my coffee. He shifts the gears on the steering wheel and pulls out.
I smile out the window as I ride in the bumpy truck.
“Do you know we haven’t passed a car?” he says as he keeps his eyes on the road.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?”
He shrugs. “Different.”
We follow the directions, and ten minutes later we get to a big stone entryway with the sign.
ARNDELL
“This is it.”
We turn up the driveway, and I s
mile. The road is lined with huge trees that create a canopy. Rolling green hills are as far as you can see.
“Oh, look at this place.” I smile in wonder. “She said the land was beautiful.” For five minutes, we drive through until we get to the top of a hill and find a big old house. It’s white with a sweeping veranda around the edge. The roof is made of shingles, and it must be a hundred years old.
Jameson’s eyes find me.
“Don’t say anything.” I smirk.
He holds his hands up in the air as if crying defeat.
We climb out and open the front door and peer in. I smile broadly. Wide-timber floors, a huge fireplace, and great big windows with views out over the property. You can see for miles from up here. The furniture is dated, but that doesn’t matter to us.