Driving through Illinois at midnight was a trip. The word trip had nothing to do with travel.
Sam chalked up her catty response to the long day: three plane changes, a late arrival in Chicago, a line at the rental agency, and a drive on an endless stretch of interstate that offered less exits than Arizona highways and was twice as dark.
She exaggerated. How could anything be twice as dark as dark?
Jasmyn directed her to an exit in the middle of nowhere. They followed a narrow highway that felt more like a path through a forest of cornstalks. Sam’s eyelids itched.
Jasmyn flicked her hand toward the left. “That was part of our land.”
“It’s too dark to see much…” Much? She couldn’t see anything but a ribbon of road and weird-looking figures reflected in the headlamps alongside.
“I don’t want to see much yet. Construction started already. It’s not my idea of a welcome back.”
They drove on for several more minutes. Sam imagined that if a strip mall went in where Jasmyn had indicated, travelers would easily stop there rather than continue on.
“Here we are,” Jasmyn announced.
“Where?”
She giggled. “Sammi, you crack me up. Where do you think? See the lights up ahead?”
“That distant glow?”
“Gas stations. We have two now. Talk about controversy. I guess they all lived through it. No dead bodies have turned up, anyway.”
The headlamps flashed on two signs. Reduce speed ahead, and Welcome to Valley Oaks, Established 1867, Population 1100.
“You’ll want to slow down here.”
Sam eased up on the pedal. “It’s after midnight.”
“They roll up the sidewalks at eight, but old Deputy Kropp can’t sleep so he sits out here. The man is ancient, but he’ll catch you three feet past the thirty-five speed limit sign if you’re going thirty-six. Yup, there it is and there he is. Hey, Rudy!” she called out as if the man could hear her and waved. “Sheriff Cal won’t let him carry a gun. Turn left here, between the stations.”
Sam would have blown right on past the turn. There was no obvious indication of a street or a town beyond it. Maybe the dark hid everything. It was so dark.
Jasmyn chattered. She had grown more excited the closer they got to town and now seemed almost ecstatic. She lowered the window a crack and cold air flowed in. “Mmm. Smell that? Sycamore. There’s a grove in that yard. That’s the Westin Mansion, built in 1914. Remind me to take you out to see Wharton Castle. It’s a real castle. Oh, look. That’s the Pig.”
They passed a nondescript building with a parking lot to one side. Sam could not read the low sign in front. In spite of streetlights, it was too dark.
“My home away from home. At least before I landed at the Casa. Here’s our downtown. Post office, library, Lia’s pharmacy, Ron’s barber shop, Dottie’s beauty shop. Dottie’s been gone for twenty years but the name stuck. Keep going straight here. See the water tower over there? That’s really old. There’s a little park down that way.” She pointed right and left and behind them. “Oh my gosh, it all looks so small.”
“Compared to San Diego, it is small.”
“Teeny-tiny. I haven’t been gone that long, have I— Oh! Listen!” She paused and whispered, “It’s so quiet.”
There was absolutely no sound, no movement, no traffic.
“See the big building on the left?”
Surprisingly, it was big, perhaps three stories and made of brick.
“You can turn in here. This used to be Wilmington School. My great-grandparents and my grandparents went here. Do you believe it? I hope you’re not allergic to chalk dust.”
Sam pulled into a lot where about a dozen cars were parked and found a spot. Before she had turned off the engine, a squeal erupted and a shape streaked past the windshield.
Jasmyn added her own squeals and jumped out of the car. The blur must have been Quinn.
Sam unhooked her seat belt and pocketed the key, giving the friends a moment. From the intensity of their hug and the shrieks of laughter, she understood they were true BFFs, a dozen levels beyond what she and Jasmyn teased about sharing.
Sam’s resolve wavered. What had ever possessed her to make this spontaneous trek to the Midwest? She had enjoyed Jasmyn’s company back in Seaside Village and more so during their day of travel. Jasmyn possessed an ability to make her laugh and think and feel comfortable. She coaxed a better version of Sam out into the open. She made Sam believe that tracing down Hannah Carlson was a Big Deal.
But Jasmyn needed to get on with her life back here. Sam was going to be an intrusion. Not to mention a fish out of water. What was she going to do for five days in the middle of nowhere?
Ew. It was beginning to feel like her hometown. Small and cramped with a tight-knit circle of people that never slipped a stitch to allow space for her to enter in.
A knocking on the side window startled her.
Quinn motioned for her to get out.
Sam did so. “You must be—”
“I am.” Quinn was short, like Jasmyn, but she threw her arms around Sam’s shoulders and drew her into a fierce hug. “And you are you.” She rocked her back and forth. “Any BFF of Jasmyn’s is a BFF of mine. Welcome to Valley Oaks.”
Sam almost melted into tears.
It had been a long day.
Quinn was a flightier version of Jasmyn with short blond curls and, thank goodness, a lower voice. She seemed in perpetual motion, carrying more than her share up to the second floor to Jasmyn’s studio apartment.
Jasmyn had not overstated the dreariness of her temporary home. The ceiling light cast shadows on drab walls and thin carpet, both nondescript.
They stood in the middle. Without much of a stretch, each woman would be able to touch the bed, the love seat, and the table.
“Sammi, I’m sorry it’s not the Ritz.”
“Did you ever take me for a Ritz person?”
“Well, no, but—”
“I’ll be fine if you’re sure you want to give it to me. I’m happy to check into a motel.”
The other two burst into laughter.
Quinn said, “Forty-five minutes down the road.”
Jasmyn said, “Don’t worry about it, Sam. I’m fine on Quinn’s couch for the week. I thought you’d prefer having your own space here.”
“Thank you.” Sam smiled. Jasmyn understood she would want that.
They showed her light switches, the coffeepot—tucked into a corner because there was no other space on the counter for it—and the trick to flushing the toilet. The shower appeared to be a closet.
Quinn had gotten things ready for her, clean linens and a few food staples. “Including our all-time favorite ice cream. Call if you need anything. We’re half a block away. Yellow house, third on the right, one oak tree and a bunch of dead mums in pots. Missed your green thumb, Jazz.”
They left and within a few minutes, an exhausted Sam crawled into the small bed. Her feet hung off the end. It made her think of Abraham Lincoln. She was in the land of Lincoln. She was also in the land of her ancestors.
She wondered how tall Hannah Carlson had been.
As she drifted to sleep, she felt content, glad that she had come.