The ding when the overhead lights came on startled her awake just in time to hear the captain say, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are making our final approach to Dulles Airport. Enjoy your stay and thank you for flying United.”

Charlotte pulled out a compact mirror and lipstick and made sure she hadn’t drooled during her long nap. With a quick fix, she wrapped her pashmina around her and was ready for the next leg of her journey. She pulled the paper from her tote bag. “Edward will meet you at baggage claim.” Edward. Edward. Edward, she repeated silently. That was part of her “treatment”—to repeat words until they stuck.

As she reached the carousel, spinning with suitcases, backpacks, golf clubs, and an assortment of packages, she saw a gentleman with a sign: CHARLOTTE HANSEN. That was easy, she said to herself. She gave him a wave, and he quickly approached her, tipped his chauffeur’s cap, and asked her to describe her luggage. Once he spotted the suitcases, he grabbed them and led her to the town car awaiting them.

“Myra and Charles are the epitome of grace and hospitality,” she remarked to Edward.

“They are indeed.”

After the thirty-minute ride from the airport, the large iron gates of the farm loomed before them. It was just as she remembered. The trees, the gardens, the landscaping. All so meticulous. She wondered if the old swing was still in the back. Knowing Myra, it probably was. Charlotte hoped so. She wouldn’t mind sitting on it again and letting the air blow through her hair.

The sound of dogs barking their welcome made her smile as Myra flung the front door open. “Charlotte! So good to see you!” Big, big hugs, and kisses on both cheeks. Myra stepped back to take a good look at her friend. “My dear, I think you’ve come to the right place.” Charlotte looked weary, but there was still a gleam in her eyes.

“Myra, I cannot thank you and Charles enough for rescuing me from God knows what.”

“You just relax, and we’ll sort it all out. Come. Follow me. We’ll get you settled, and then we can have an aperitif.”

“Sounds divine.” Charlotte linked arms with Myra as Annie flew into the foyer.

“I have an arm, too,” she announced, linking herself to the two other women, with Charles toting the luggage behind them.

“Leave it to Fergus to be invisible when it comes to heavy lifting,” Charles teased Annie.

“I think he’s minding the roast,” Annie poked back.

“If that’s how to describe what he’s doing, then indeed. I fear that Fergus’s only talent in the kitchen is stuffing his mouth,” Charles reminded everyone.

“Charles, be kind. Fergus is the best cleanup man for your KP duty!” Myra chided him.