Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Epilogue
The Secrets Next Door
Prologue
1
Email Signup
Also by Sally Royer-Derr
A Letter from the Author
Acknowledgements
ALSO BY SALLY ROYER-DERR
High Bluffs Trilogy
For Sue, my sister, my friend
ONE2023
Aimee
I brushed back a lock of my golden hair, highlighted naturally by hours spent in the sun, and adjusted my sunglasses. I stole a glance at my husband, Archie, sitting in the driver’s seat of our newly purchased SUV, black with leather interior. His golden hair was slightly darker than mine; he wasn’t the outdoorsy type like me. Sure, maybe a hike here or there, but I was a daughter of nature. I crave the sunshine, fresh air and want to be part of all that is alive around me. Allow me to place my fingers into the life-sustaining earth and feel the burn of heat in the blue sky on my body, and life would spring from me.
Archie turned and flashed a smile at me. A trickle of sunshine traveled from his left temple across his sunglasses down to his mouth of perfectly straight white teeth. Not only did we share golden hair, but, in my mind, we were a golden couple. I’d been waiting to find my partner for a long time. Life threw me some curves, but when he entered my orbit everything looked brighter.
Kismet stepped in on the day we met. Me, toiling away at my barista job, still living with my aged aunt in her Philly townhouse on Society Hill, and Archie coming in to pick up a large coffee order for a local elementary school where he was a third-grade teacher.
The chemistry was undeniable. Something I hadn’t felt in years. When you click with someone, feel that strong connection, it’s something you’ve always craved but wondered if you would ever find it. That’s how it was between us. We married quickly soon after my aunt passed away leaving me a sizable inheritance.
“What are you thinking about?” Archie asked now, his voice breaking into my thoughts, still smiling.
I touched his hand lying on the console. “You. When we first met. I can’t believe we’ve been married a year already.”
He nodded. “I know, it went so fast.”
“And now we’re really doing this. This move is going to be such an adventure for us.”
“Yeah, we’ll be there soon.”
I took a contented sigh and looked out the window at the passing scenery. Cornfields with neat, small green stalks lined the right of the road, hopefully knee-high by the Fourth of July, as I heard some locals say when we stopped by town last week, and grasses of alfalfa, still in their infancy, lined the left, a few strands blowing in the warm early summer breeze. White, puffy, cotton candy clouds hung high in the clear blue sky, their vastness seemingly endless.
Even though the air conditioning blasted inside the vehicle, I hit the automatic button and the passenger car window rolled down. Sweet-smelling summer air entered the SUV. Honeysuckle, I guessed. I’d noticed it growing along the road as we drove along. Ahead in the distance, a large blue and white sign was visible. Bright orange and yellow marigolds surrounded its base.
Welcome to Poplin, Pennsylvania
“We’re here,” I said to Archie. Finally, starting our adventure and moving into the small farm I’d salivated over since spotting it on one of the many real estate websites I’d browsed in the evenings in my aunt’s townhouse. I wasn’t a city girl. I wanted to be among the trees, plants, and birds. I wanted to look out my window and see endless farmland spread out like a beautiful painting, but it would be my painting, our painting. A few months ago, I found the jewel that we would call our first real home as a married couple. Sure, we lived in Aunt Lou’s townhouse together, but this house was the first home we purchased together, making it so special to me, to us. A stunning, gothic-style farmhouse that sat on forty acres of land. My dream. Our dream.
“Exciting, isn’t it?” Archie continued to drive, passing a few homes and the elementary school where he would teach third grade, starting at the end of August. A little farther down the road, we entered Main Street, with its picturesque stores and restaurants, many boasting bright gingerbread trim in blue, pink, and yellow. Tall, white globed streetlights lined the street among large planters filled with bursts of flowers in an array of summer blooms.
I paid particular attention to the couple of stores with a For Rent sign in their polished windows. Angela, the realtor who sold us the property, had mentioned a few spots were available when I told her about wanting to open a small, organic market in town. I planned to sell produce I would grow on the farm and from neighboring farms, once we were fully moved and settled in. I never realized how many details needed to be taken care of when you purchased a property. Luckily, Aunt Lou’s inheritance gave us a nice cushion to do things at our own pace.
