The sound of the truck Engine was an unfamiliar rumble around her as Camilla Scott drove down the lonely stretch of highway before her, periodically squinting through her sunglasses down at the GPS hooked into The dashboard and out at the seemingly endless wilderness around her. She was more attuned to the gentle purring of a BMW, custom leather upholstery soft, her favorite air freshener making the air smell like cherries... But the shiny little red car hadn't felt appropriate for the setting she was headed to now, so the BMW had been sold, traded in for a used blue pick up truck, and she and a small collection of belongings headed off into the great unknown. The move had been crazy, impulsive, but had the potential to bring back hope into her life.

Cami had been a rather important person in a large corporation only the week before, had even been headed in the direction of becoming CEO, but had dropped it all after receiving a letter from a person she barely even knew. She had just gotten home from work, feeling particularly miserable after a rather stressful day at the office, unhappy with her life and praying for a way out. She had just kicked off her heels and had slumped onto the living room couch, trying to work herself up to reading a folder of client information, when a quiet knock had sounded at the door to her apartment and a letter dropped through the mail slot and landed with a soft thump on her woven welcome mat. Curious, though a little apprehensive as well, she had retrieved the letter, Glancing over the return address. She barely recognized the name, but felt her heart give a squeeze as she saw the town name. Skyhollow Valley.

The initial letter itself was from a man named Harold, Whos simple note explained that he had been a good friend of her grandfather before he had passed away. He told her how he had been helping go through some of the records that had been kept in her grandfather's house when they had come across a sealed envelope with her name and address on it, a posted note stuck to the front stating that it should be sent on his behalf in the event that his death should come about before he himself had had the chance to mail the message. Harold apologized that he had not given it to her sooner when they had come in contact at the funeral six months before, but had mailed it as soon as it had been discovered. She had withdrawn the second letter with somewhat shaky fingers, feeling a wave of nostalgia and sadness as she looked at her own name written in her grandfather's hand. She definitely wasn't expecting the message that was held within the envelope.

Dearest Camilla bean,

I sure do miss you squirt. It feels like only yesterday when you were here visiting, your hair done up in pigtails, wearing a pair of overalls that you said made you "look like Gwanpa." Oh, you were just the cutest doll, following me around with your little plastic watering can while I tended the fields. You must have done more running back and forth to refill your can then you actually did watering the plants.

But I digress, I wasn't planning on telling embarrassing stories about you in this letter. By this time, I've already told you and your mother about my illness, So I won't waste time going over those details again. I don't have much strength to dwell on such matters. What I really wanted to tell you is much more important than what I am sure makes you sad to think of. Your mother has been telling me about your new job, about how proud she is at your success, but is worried about the increasing amount of depression she sees in your face. She's worried about you and your well-being. As am I. It has been several years now since your last visit to the farm, but I still remember your deep-seated love of this old place. I haven't been able to take care of it the way I would like to. Because of this, my deepest wish is to leave the care of the farm in your hands. If I know you, my granddaughter, your free spirit is feeling trapped and suffocated within the confines of the big city. Or, if it's not now, it will be one day. When that day comes, the farm Will be there waiting for you, ready to welcome you for the opportunity to get away from the modern world, get back to nature and open air.

I trust you with all of my heart. The deed Will be included with this letter. Good luck for your future.

With love,
Grandpa Scott

Things had fallen into place quickly after that. Cami Head immediately jumped into excited action, readily purging her clothing of the silks and suits, Packing away the high heels and the jewelry, packing up what little she felt comfortable taking to the countryside and handing over the responsibility of her apartment and it's furniture to her brother without a backwards glance. Everyone thought she was crazy, quitting her job, abandoning her friends in the city life. But she knew the truth. Her grandfather had thrown her a lifeline and she was taking hold of it with both hands.

She probably would have missed the turn off if she hadn't been watching carefully for it, A small wooden sign indicating in neatly painted letters that her destination was 5 miles along the dirt road an arrow pointed towards. Turning onto the unpaved road, Camilla Felt The familiar stirrings of excitement, anxiety, and nostalgia that she had been plagued with for the last several miles churn within her stomach once more. She had no doubts that she was making the right decision, but she wasn't sure what waited for her on the other end.

Caleb Werthers had been working on Mr. Scott's farm for almost six years straight. He'd proven himself a good enough worker to be kept around. He worked from sun up until sun down and hardly ever asked for time off to himself. He didn't have much of anyone to spend time off with anyhow. He didn't get paid very much, but he didn't expect anything else. Mr. Scott allowed him to stay in the spare room in his house, and that was all he really needed.

Caleb didn't have an easy road which led him to the sanctuary which was the Scott's farm. His father had became a really bad drunk when he was only seven. He'd put up with it, just burying himself in his room until he couldn't take it anymore. He'd only gotten worst and by the time Caleb was twelve his father had become custom to hitting on his mother. Every time he'd plead with him not to or get the nerve to talk back his anger would turn on him. He almost rathered it that way. Sometimes he would get on his father's nerves if he'd been drinking particularly a lot that day just to save his mother for one day. Not soon enough the punishments came to an end. When he was sixteen he finally called enough. His father had went off on them and he'd taken matters into his own hands. With all his anger built up, he'd ended the punishments once and for all. He's not sorry that his mother and himself are able to be in a better place now, but he resents what it came to. He couldn't stand to be around his mother after what happened to someone they'd both loved in their life. He set off on his own and after being without a stable place for almost a year he came across Mr. Scott in a local drugstore.

The rest was history after that. He'd worked hard enough to numb the pain of the past and try his best to forget. Mr. Scott did more than he could have, offering him a roof over his head and a stable job. He'd repaid the man's kindness by promising to do his best everyday. He never slacked off and he did more than was asked of him any opportunity he got. Once the man died he kept it up the best he could. It was hard work, and without any income besides what he had saved up he was just about to give up hope on being able to keep up the farm. He may not have had much before, but he still needed something to live on. Especially since he's got a terrible habit of smoking. It's the one thing he lets himself do. He refuses to even touch one sip of alcohol and he thinks that if you gamble you might as well toss your money out of his truck's window while speeding down the interstate. He started smoking almost as soon as he'd left his home. It calmed him in a way just to puff in the air before blowing it back out again.

He'd been laying on the couch in the main room, passed out from the day before. He hadn't even notice a truck pull onto the property. The noise wasn't loud enough to startle him after all the work he'd done the day before. He remained asleep, his cap over his head to block out the light from the window.

Her childhood was laid out before her as she drove through familiar streets, passed by buildings that had stood unchanged for who knew how many decades. Cami smiled wistfully at an old wooden carving of a bear in front of the convenience store that she had been so afraid of is a child that she had to have her grandfather walk up and poke it to prove it wouldn't attack her before she would go inside. She wondered if it had always looked so weatherworn, or if it had just been that long since she had seen the thing. Shaking her head, she made her way carefully through the streets and out past the boundaries of the town, instincts guiding her to a familiar gravel road that would lead her to the Scott family farm.

The town wasn't the only thing to look unchanged, she noticed as the two-story woodframe house came into view. The outside was still whitewashed, the from porch adorned with a swinging bench, a scrawny tabby cat even lounged on the railing, tail flicking lazily. Taking a deep breath to calm the sudden pounding of her heart, Camilla parked the truck to the side of the house, cutting the engine. She hesitated for a moment before she pulled out the keys, stuffing them into a pocket before grabbing her purse and hopping out of the cab. She was going to have to get this out-of-the-way one way or the other. Brushing back a piece of her light brown hair that had escaped her braid, Camy fished out one of the boxes in the bed of the truck, cradling it against her stomach before she made her way around to the front of the house and headed up the steps. Balancing the box on one hip, she tested the handle of the front door before retrieving the key, surprised when the knob twisted easily in her hand. The city girl part of her screamed that something was wrong, That someone had broken into the house. She had to fight back the instinct to pull out her cell phone and call the police. "you're not in the big city anymore Cami. Get a grip." She chastised herself. Grandpa had never locked his front door, Not that she could ever remember. Giving her head a shake, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. Out of habit, she paused for a moment, calling out. "Hello?"

Caleb's eye were shut and for once he was having a peaceful dream. His breathing was slow and content until he was jolted awake by a voice. He'd in no way been expecting anyone to come into the house he'd been living alone for in a while. The noise startled him to fall unto the ground, his body rolling off the couch. He made and oof sound as his body smacked against the carpet. "Hello?" He said back equally as surprised to meet someone in the home. He placed his hands on the couch and pulled himself up off the floor, standing up straight. "If you're here about the animals they're been cared for and I'm not going to let you take them without cause." He replied, expecting it to be some kind of animal control or house inspector.

She hadn't really been expecting anyone to answer her shout. So the sound of something heavy hitting the floor near the old sofa and a surprised voice calling out it's own, "Hello?" was enough to draw a small yelp of shock from Cami, The box in her arms tumbling to the floor as she reached for her purse. Her fingers hesitated on the edge of the pocket that contained her cell phone, light brown eyes wide with surprise as she stared at the stranger on the other side of the couch. Then she fully registered the words he had been saying and her eyebrows almost instantly knit together with confusion. "A-Animals?" She managed to get out, unsure why this man was telling her that the animals were being cared for and that she couldn't take them. "No... I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm Camilla Scott. Walter Scott was my grandfather.. He..." Where did she even start? Swallowing hard, Cami forced herself into a more relaxed position, dropping her hand away from her purse. "someone named Harold Devonport sent me a letter that my grandfather had written me before he died... Are you Harold?"

Caleb dusted himself off. "Oh, my apologies ma'am." He felt relief to know that she wasn't here to take the animals away. As this wasn't really his land and he'd just barely been managing on his own he was worried that someone might end up reporting him. He'd been up keeping the farm the best he could. He tipped his head to her, he would have tipped his hat but it seemed to be somewhere on the floor after crashing to the ground in the whole incident. "I am not, but I knew your grandfather. He is-was, a really nice gentleman. The kindest I'd ever met." He smiled at the memories. The man had become a nice older male figure in his life. He'd never really had a male role model before, and Mr. Scott had helped him see that men could truly be kind. He showed him that Caleb didn't have to grow up to be like his father. "I've been keeping up the farm as a thanks to him." He told her, while it was true, he also didn't have another place to go. He hoped that she wouldn't want to be throwing him out on the spot right now. She might just be here to sell the place, and if she was he couldn't stay here for sure.

"he really was a good man..." Cami agreed softly, her eyes unexpectedly pricking for a moment, accompanied by a strong wave of sadness. Blinking several times against the threatening tears, she attempted to hide her emotions by crouching down and retrieving her cardboard box. While there, She quickly brushed her cheek against her shoulder, wiping away the tear that had escaped. When she finally straightened up, her emotions were back under control.

After a moment, she offered the man a soft smile. "thank you for taking care of things around here." She said sincerely, finally stepping over to a small table just to the side of the front door and setting down her box. "things being kept up will make it that much easier. I must admit, I don't have much experience when it comes to running a farm..." She briefly rubbed the back of her neck, once again feeling a little foolish for dropping everything back in Chicago. But she quickly managed to push her doubts aside, her resolve strengthening. "are you planning on staying on as a farmhand? I could really use the help."

"Oh." Caleb rubbed the back of his neck, looking at her. He really did want to help out, he loved being on the farm. And he'd made a connection with all of the animals there. He just didn't know how much longer he could go on without being paid, not to mention how she most likely won't know what she's doing. And if she doesn't know how to manage the land it might go under pretty fast. His urge to help her out and to at least stay and give it another go was stronger than his fears. He shrugged. "It wouldn't hurt to stay, help you get used to runnin' things." He spoke before his mind was giving him another chance to change it.

At first, his hesitation had made Cami fear The worst. He understood that she was inexperienced now and she could almost read in his face his understanding that she would most likely fail. But before she could square her jaw and lift her chin in defiance, his response came, catching her off guard slightly. But his agreement to help eventually coaxed a wide smile onto her face, Crinkling up the corners of her eyes in a similar way as she remembered her grandfather doing. "sounds like the start of a good working relationship." She said, finally sliding her purse off of her shoulder and setting it on top of the box she had placed on the table. "but please, don't call me ma'am. That just makes me feel old. You can call me Camilla, or Cami. I don't think I ever caught your name." She stepped forward, offering a hand.