Page 2 of Call it Reckless

“Got me where I am today.”

We both stared at each other, recognizing the same trait in both of us, then started laughing.

Mike reached over and tousled my hair, helping to lighten the moment. “You’ll be all right, kid. Just shoot me a line or two once in a while so I can say, ‘I told you so.’”

There were no more reasons to delay. I opened my door.

“Drive safe now, ya hear?”

I nodded and climbed in. There would be no more hugs, just a clean break, the way I knew Mike wanted it. I smiled and waved through the window as he tapped the roof, then shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched me pull away.

As hard as I tried not to, I couldn’t help but glance in my rearview mirror as I left my house for the final time. In a few days, new tenants would move in. There was no more room for regrets. No more time for second-guessing. It was time to move forward.

As I hit I-40 West and Charlotte, North Carolina grew more and more distant, a sliver of excitement carved through the angst of leaving what had been my home base for the past ten years.

Sterling Mill, Tennessee…110 miles

The road signsannouncing how far I still had to travel to Sterling Mill felt like breadcrumbs leading me home.

The Cherokee pulled its full load easily over the mountain roads of North Carolina and into Tennessee. Some people might find the winding roads and switchbacks difficult, but I enjoyed navigating them. The twisted path wasn’t so very different from the path my life had taken since late last fall.

Nearly five months earlier, I’d been drinking coffee at an outdoor café on the outskirts of Charlotte. I looked up to see a car coming down a small hill across the street. It had only taken seconds to realize it wasn’t slowing down enough for the stop sign. I jumped up, yelling for anyone nearby to get out of the way. But I hadn’t been fast enough, and the car plowed into me, pinning me between the car and the tables. My left leg had taken the brunt of it—a broken hip and a fractured femur, along with numerous cuts and bruising. I was in the hospital for weeks followed by rehab and painful physical therapy.

I was used to hard work. It felt like all my life, I’d fought to overcome the barriers and prejudices of being a woman in a male-dominated field. But that time period was by far the hardest thing I’d ever faced. I had to rebuild not only my body but a new career. Now, I had a new business venture, one that I was going to partner with my best friend, Paige. We’d been working to build it remotely, studying the plans and pictures intently, but now, I was finally going to lay eyes on it and see it come to fruition.

Those who knew about it were excited for me. No one knew how many tears had gone into turning a possibility into a reality. Only I knew how much I feared I would fail.

Sterling Mill…50 miles.

The milesdown the mountain seemed to fly by. The closer I drew, the more trepidation fluttered its dark wings.

What had I been thinking? Would this town even accept me?

I’d spent so much time trying to escape it, rarely returning except for short periods of time, and those were separated by long intervals. I always promised my grandparents I’d come back and visit, but I was too busy, always believing I had tomorrow. But tomorrow is never promised, a lesson almost always learned the hard way.

Sterling Mill…Next exit

As if planned,the radio switched songs on the classic rock station, and Bon Jovi’s voice suddenly challenged me, crooning,“Who says you can’t go home?”

I hoped he was right.

It wasn’t like I didn’t have roots there. My dad’s side of my family, the Allens, had been founding members of the town centuries ago. Hell, they’d even built and run the mill for which it was named long before the town existed.

But small towns had long memories. I knew adult Bristol was a different person than teenage Bristol, but would they give me a chance? My grandparents and their stellar reputation could no longer set the gossip straight.

I squinted against the bright sun that glared through the windshield of my Cherokee as I rolled past theWelcome to Sterling Millsign.

I hoped the sign wasn’t the only welcome I’d receive here.

CHAPTERONE

Bristol

Asense of nostalgia swept over me, so I ignored the bypass and chose the main road leading to the downtown area. A few old homes were scattered on either side of the road until the speed limit slowed to twenty-five and the business area began.

I passed The Dogtrot Bed-and-Breakfast, owned by my cousin, Emalee. It looked fresh and welcoming with white lights twinkling on the ball-shaped topiaries that graced either side of the front steps. She’d done amazing things with it since she’d taken over a few years ago.

Business appeared to be thriving in this small mountain town. Simply Ruth’s, a popular diner that had been around since I was young, still looked busy. Many of the other shops I remembered were still here, along with several new ones, including a new coffee shop that looked super inviting.

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