“Give me a break,” you said with a groan as your best friend Natalia handed you a thick novel. Barely glancing at the title as you placed it down on your coffee table, you then cocked your head to the side. “This isn’t funny.”

“What? I thought it might give you some hints on how to handle country life.”

“A Nicolas Sparks novel?!” Shaking your head as Natalia giggled, you then gave her another pointed look. “I’m not going to the country to find love and I better not end up in any tragic accident, either.”

“So you have read them,” she teased, following you into the bedroom where you had several suitcases ready to take the disarray of your belongings you had pulled out from the closet.

“I’ve seen a movie or two,” you reminded, looking in her direction again. “You made me watch them with you whenever you got drunk on wine, proclaiming they’re the best kind of love stories.”

“Okay, whatever! My sentiment still remains. Moving to the country will come to you as a huge shock. You were born and raised in this city.”

“So there won’t be a Starbucks nearby. I’m sure the diner or café or even a tearoom if they have one, will be able to make me a coffee when I need it. Plus, Amazon should service the area if I need to order more pods for my own coffee maker.”

Natalia shook her head. “You’re too used to the fast pace of this world right now. Blayne is light years away from this.”

“Yes, because you’ve totally been there, Natty,” you mused, shooting your friend a toothy smile. She didn’t join you in your amusement. “Okay, so I’m a city slicker. I’ve never seen a cow up close or bare land in every direction for miles. But I am adaptable.”

“This isn’t a resume, Y/N. This is a relocation.”

You nodded. “And it’s only for seven months, at max. I’ll just go down to Blayne and make it less plain. How hard can that be?”

“Wow, I almost hit you then because that was so lame,” Natalia breathed, gripping her wrist in her other hand for effect. “I still don’t think you’re the right person for this job. Country people are different. Their values are in the land and the community, not in big investment. I used to spend my summers on my grandparents’ farm. It’s nothing like the city, Y/N.”

“I will aim to prove you wrong,” you announced confidently before holding up two pairs of stiletto boots. “You don’t think I’ll need these, right?”

After almost two days of travelling, you hit the final township before Blayne. Your initial excitement for a road trip had evaporated, much as the urban lifestyle in these parts. You were seeing lesser homes, lesser businesses, and just less in general.

Pulling into a gas station on the outskirts, you filled up the tank to your car, confused as to where the concierge had gone.

“I can fill my own tank. It’s no problem,” you convinced yourself, wiping your hands off on your jeans when you screwed the fuel cap back on. Retrieving your wallet, you walked inside and marvelled the tiny storefront as you moved towards the counter.

“You’re not from around here,” the middle-aged man announced and you smiled politely as you held over your card. “Oh, we don’t do that here.”

“Don’t do what? Accept payment?” you asked with a chuckle, insisting on him taking the card.

The store clerk stared at you blankly before leaning on the countertop. “Where did you come from, city slicker?”

“Does it matter? Will you take my card to process the payment?”

“Around these parts, we don’t really use cards, you see,” he mentioned, shrugging when your mouth fell ajar.

“Then how do you pay for things?”

“Good-old cash or barter,” he answered simply, and you gasped nosily.

“B-Barter?”

“We also do tabs, but if you’re not from around here, we can’t offer that.”

“I’m moving to Blayne,” you mentioned, and the man stared at you once again, making you uncomfortable in the process.

And then he burst into hearty laughter. “You’re good at making jokes, Miss.”

“It’s not a joke. I’m on my way to Blayne Hill Estate.”

“To Old Jung’s house?” he asked, and you nodded. “Wow, you don’t seem the type.”

“The type for what?”

“For all of this.”

“Well, I’m adaptable,” you told him with a tight smile, rummaging around in your wallet after retracting your card. “How much will it be? I’ll see if I have some cash still on me. I haven’t used it in about two years with card and mobile payments being more accessible.”

“All these young kids leaving the weight of their lives in the hands of tiny devices and cards. What is this world coming to?”

“It’s all about modern advances,” you told him, shooting him another smile. “You’ll have to catch up with the times around here sooner or later.”

“Miss, I’m pulling your leg.”

“Huh?” Glancing over at the card machine that seemed to have appeared out of thin air, you flushed with annoyance whilst his laughter boomed around the store. “Ah, right.”

“We might seem out of date to you, but you’ll find that Blayne is the type of place that’s happy being just how it is.”

It was dusk by the time you arrived at your destination. Of course, the GPS in your car stopped working once you left the gas station, and had you not printed off a map just in case, you wouldn’t have had any clue on how to get to Blayne.

“Modern advances mean nothing if you’re not able to use them,” you muttered to yourself with some relief when you saw the end of this gravel road actually had a house on it. You had been dubious to turn down it at first, despite confirming your place on the map repeatedly. And after ten minutes of bumpy terrain, you pulled up in front of the modest homestead that you assumed was to be the house of your stay.

“Why not put me up in a hotel?” you had asked and your boss Pierce looked over at you and laughed.

“Y/N, there’s no hotels in Blayne.”

“Motel? Inn? Bed and Breakfast?” you listed and then laughed lightly. “Surely they have something.”

“The family who has held together the community down in Blayne for generations are the Jung’s. They have a small homestead they offer out to people wanting to experience the Blayne life.”

“Why isn’t there accommodation on the main street?” you wondered, and Pierce pointed to the map of the settlement. He then drifted his hand across to the township before Blayne. “Ah, people stay there instead?”

“No one goes to Blayne to stay,” Pierce mentioned, smiling widely. “Until now.”

“This house better have good mobile data reception,” you grumbled as you looked up at it, hauling your most-needed suitcase out of the trunk of your car and then attempted to wheel it to the veranda. The ground was uneven, so you reached for the side handle and heaved it up the three steps to the front door. You then checked your phone for the instructions on how to get inside.

“Pierce said there was no key to pick up on the way, but there’s no keypad on the door to get in with,” you observed out loud, scrolling through your offline messages and then blinked rapidly at the answer. Staring up at the door frame, you stretched onto the top of your toes and felt around blindly until your hand connected with a key-ring.

Retrieving the set of keys, you then slotted one into the door, unlocking it. “Well, I’ll be damned. Anyone could get in here if they knew where the keys were kept. What a poor security system.”

Looking around at the lack of civilisation before stepping inside, you soon chuckled. “Then again, there’s no one around for miles. I guess I don’t need to worry about leaving the security guard back at my apartment building anymore.”

Closing the door behind you and placing down the keys on the entryway table, you then reached for the light switch and flicked it on.

Nothing.

“What?!” you exclaimed, pushing the switch up and down. “Why isn’t it working?!”

Moving over to another wall, you had the same luck with that one. “Ugh! Why?!”

You squealed when a sudden ringing sounded, and after a disoriented moment, you realised it was coming from within the home. Fumbling about, you managed to find the older styled phone and picked up the corded receiver. “Hello?”

“Miss L/N?” a cheerful voice crooned, and you sighed with relief.

“Oh, thank goodness. I’ve just arrived to find there’s no power on at this house.”

“That’s because we don’t leave the fuse box on when no one is there. My son was meant to ride up this morning and power everything up, but we’ve had steer problems and-”

“I see. Could he ride up now?”

“Awfully dark out to be riding now,” she mentioned patiently, and you groaned inwardly. “But he’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Riding?”

“No dearie, in the truck. You’ll hear that old thing rumbling down the driveway long before you see it!”

“Ah, ha-ha. Thank you, Mrs Jung, right?”

“Please call me June. If you need anything, you just go about ringing this number. It’s written down in the phone book in front of you.”

“Phone book. Of course,” you replied, and after saying goodbye, you placed the receiver back down on the phone stand.

And then you began to laugh hysterically.

No power? That meant the refrigerator and freezer would need time to reach appropriate temperatures. I don’t need to worry about food too much yet, you mentioned, not having brought a lot of groceries with you anyway. But as you stood there waiting for June’s son to turn up, you grew cold.

What was the central heating like in a place like this? Casting your eyes around the dimly lit room, you spied a fireplace. Would you have to cart in wood to keep yourself warm?

Maybe Natalia was right after all. You only knew of high-rise buildings and fast lanes. Whilst you hadn’t been spoiled, you suddenly realised the privileged life you had up till now. Everything had always worked, and if you couldn’t get it to, there was always someone on the ready to help you.

“Just how much longer do I need to wait?” you wondered aloud, rubbing your arms in attempts to keep warm.

It was then that you heard the rumble of a car engine, and you dashed out onto the veranda grinning when you saw the headlights. Waving animatedly and leaping on the spot, you were relieved not to be alone anymore.

“He’s probably a teenager,” you assumed when you saw the state of the old truck, the spluttering noise that came out of it when it stopped worrying you somewhat. “Who lets their kid drive such a death trap?”

The door creaked open then, and you waited to see your young saviour, your hand still raised in greeting. It dropped when he stood upright, much as your mouth did.

“Oh hey, you must be Y/N, right?” he said, walking over to your side.

Blinking slowly, you allowed your eyes to travel up from his cowboy boots to his very adult frame, finally landing on his handsome face. Tipping the hat he wore in greeting, he then shot you a wide dimpled smile.

You didn’t want to admit it. But this was starting to feel awfully like the start to a Nicolas Sparks novel.