Welcome to Oak Falls, Virginia, home to horse farms, midnight rodeos, bookstores, coffee shops, and quaint restaurants where you’re greeted like family and treated like treasured guests. Buckle up for a wild ride. Like any Southern girls worth their salt, the sweet-talking, sharp-tongued Montgomery sisters can take men to their knees with one seductive glance or a single sugarcoated sentence.

A second chance at their first love…
Leaving New York City and returning to her hometown to teach a screenplay writing class seems like just the break Grace Montgomery needs. Until her sisters wake her at four thirty in the morning to watch the hottest guys in town train wild horses and she realizes that escaping her sisters’ drama-filled lives was a lot easier from hundreds of miles away. To make matters worse, she spots the one man

When Shasta Cleveland’s great aunt chain-smokes her way to the great lounge in the sky, Shasta takes over the family bait shop on the Michigan shore. Jilted in love, she needs a fresh start in her hometown. But she has no intention of offering beer, bait, and a bathroom to the fishing crowd. Appalled by their tacky windbreakers and baseball caps, Shasta resolves to bring the local fishing crowd high quality outdoor apparel. She may not know walleye from hip waders, but that doesn’t stop her from pouring her money and her heart into reinventing a bait shop and believing she knows what fishermen should want.

While Shasta waits for customers to pull out their credit cards for her fancy vests and cashmere-lined gloves, Roger Shelton ties his aging fishing boat to her dock. A cop and weekend fisherman who rivals Mr. Darcy in reticence, he’s the opposite of the effusive petite blonde hawking overpriced apparel at the store where the sign still says “Bait Shop.” Although Roger’s general policy is staying out of everyone else’s business and letting them make their own mistakes, he’s intrigued by Shasta and her enthusiasm for offering advice to everyone—whether they want it or not.

At 11:08 P.M. on the humid night of September 29, 1959, Braniff Flight 542 crashed on a farm near Buffalo, Texas.

Less than six months later, Northwest Flight 710 crashed in a soybean field near Tell City, Indiana. Both planes were Lockheed Electras, and both, for no apparent reason, had lost a wing in mid-air. The combined toll of the two crashes was 97 lives. There were no survivors. Early the following October, during take-off from Boston’s Logan Airport, there was another Electra disaster, and the plane that had been supposedly foolproof became the object of the ugliest controversy in the history of commercial aviation.

While the search for a “probable cause” went on, there was a crucial decision to be made: whether or not to let the Electras go on flying. Elwood R. Quesada, then Administrator of the Federal Aviation Agency, had to make that decision, and how he coped with this frightening responsibility is a remarkable tale in itself.