Chapter 7

A large white house came into view. It had an oversized wooden door with lamps on both sides. Moss grew on the roof where a tree cast shade, but red-painted metal jutted out from underneath. The residence alone would’ve been cause for wonder, but several other buildings lay scattered across the rolling hills. Some were hidden partially by huge oak and pine trees, and all of it looked pristine, ornate, and expensive. Despite poor visibility and the late fall weather, Dakota spied green grass. An old stone fence bordered the driveway. It could’ve been more than a hundred years old, but not a single rock was missing or out of place.

Terrell pulled the motorcycle off to the right and pointed it toward a barn. The door was left open. Even with the rain coming down and splashing against the visors of their helmets, both of them could easily see that a light shone brightly inside. They were expected. They were welcome.