The thud of her foot hits the floor as Sierra moves to perch herself on the edge of her chair and lean closer to Taylor. "What? No, why?"
The smell of cut pine comes to me, and pieces of my dreams fall into place.
Taylor says, "Because that's where we need to go. We're supposed to move to a tree farm."
Sierra asks, "What's a tree farm?"
"Where they grow trees for harvesting wood, saplings for landscaping, and even Christmas trees."
A vision of elves and presents flash before my eyes. But they’re quickly replaced by a bear with glistening white teeth and blood. My palms get clammy as I recall the pain in my dream of being shredded to pieces. Good God, are we walking into a fairy tale? Or a horror story?
11
Chapter 11
Carly
After my car was done we headed to Taylor's condo, and she got her tattoo. She put us up for the night, and we left with her promise to call when she was ready to join us.
Driving over the bridge from New Hampshire to Maine, I take in the Atlantic Ocean. Houses dot the shoreline, and a working harbor is in the distance. I open the window a crack to smell the acrid odor of mud flats. Seagulls cry out as if to warn us to stay away.
Sierra says, "What's our plan, Carly? Do we just go to each one until something feels right?"
I shrug. "I guess so.”
As the area surrounding the interstate becomes wooded, I notice patches of white in the shadows. I point out the window as my lips turn up in a smile. "Sierra, that's snow."
"It is. Spring comes much later here." But even though she tries to sound unfazed, she sits a little taller.
I steal a glance at her, and movement catches my eye. The rumble strip under my tires makes me swerve back onto the road.
Sierra glances at me but says nothing. A tingling sensation tweaks at my tattoo, and I'm filled with the knowledge I just saw a bear and it was there for us. My pulse quickens in anticipation of what’s ahead. A sense of purpose floods my being.
"Sierra."
"Yeah?" She's looking out her window.
"Did you just feel that?" I check my mirrors, but traffic is light, and I don't see anything beyond a scattering of cars.
"The strange sensation that we're being watched?" She is scanning our surroundings.
"Yup, but I think it's more than that. I think we're being escorted." The need to put up my defenses niggles at me. In California I learned to pay attention to that feeling with customers, and I focus on staying alert.
She turns back forward and jiggles her leg. "Let's stop at the next rest area and get changed into something more fitting for meeting the men of our dreams." She snorts at her bad humor. But I agree, because if I'm really going to meet my mountain man, I want every advantage I've got.
* * *
Dressed in a blue halter dress, a magenta cardigan borrowed from Sierra, and just enough make-up to play up my blue eyes, I feel beautiful when we turn off the interstate at the Bangor exit. Sierra is driving, and I have a map pulled up on my phone for the first tree farm. Because of the name, we decided to try Bear Mountain Tree Farm first.
Just under a mile from the highway I have a strong feeling there will be a retail store for us to wander around and look for a sign. I say, "Up ahead on the right."
The blinker ticks like a time bomb, and I swallow down my nervousness. A black flash is in my peripheral vision, and I'm positive we have a guide. Sierra says, "I saw him again. Oh God, Carly. I think this is it."
We pull into an empty parking lot. "I know, I'm so nervous." I clench my cold fists and summon up my courage.
"Breathe, Carly."
I inhale deeply. "Ready?"
She nods, and my cute shoes clatter on the asphalt as I get out of the car. Icy wind whips my sweater, and I pull it tight around me. Okay, so maybe the outfit was a bit much considering we're in nowhere Maine.
One glance at Sierra makes me feel better though. She's in heels and a flouncy dress that's threatening to fly up over her head. We'll definitely be noticed.
A natural wood-shingled building awaits us. Two clear glass doors are under a sign painted forest green with gold lettering that reads Bear Mountain Tree Farm. The faint scent of smoke is in the air, and I hope there's a woodstove inside.
The metal of the door handle feels bitter cold in my hand as I pull open the door, but the moment it's open, heat blasts toward us. A quick scan reveals nobody is in sight, and I suspect the sales clerk is in an office that lies behind the partially closed door behind the counter.
I turn toward Sierra and widen my eyes at her, hoping she'll take the lead. She shrugs, and I realize I'm supposed to be the brave one. Great.
I call out. "Hello?"
Someone kicks open the door of the office. "Welcome!" A tall woman with dark blond curls bouncing around her shoulders holds out a tray. "I sensed—I mean I knew you were coming and went in the back to bring out the maple candy." She sets it down on the counter. "Try one."