Chapter Fourteen
Gabe had faced down armed men with less adrenaline in his veins than he felt walking into that Denver bank with Felicity at his side.
She was jittery as hell, practically bouncing across the ritzy lobby. She clung to his hand, fingers flexing against his palm as if checking he was still there.
As they approached the counter, she shot him a sideways look. “Why do I feel like I’m a treasure hunting character in a book?”
He squeezed her hand. “Because you are, bookshop.”
They spoke to the bank teller, who directed them to the manager. Meanwhile, Gabe’s trained eye took in everything from the cameras in the corners to the posture of the guard. But his focus kept snapping back to the woman at his side.
Gabe might be on alert, but Felicity was flushed with excitement.
The manager led them down a narrow corridor lined with metal boxes, stopping at one near the middle. Producing the key that had been hidden in the spine of the book, Felicity unlocked it. Gabe watched her slide the box out with both hands with as much reverence as she handled antique books.
They were escorted to a small private viewing room. Though Gabe’s hands itched to carry the box for her, he simply remained close.
The door shut with a soft click behind them.
Felicity set the box on the table. For a second, she just stared at it. “This is it,” she murmured. “Whatever Henry wanted me to find.”
“What he wanted you to have.”
She nodded. More seconds ticked by.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
She ran her fingers along the edge as if searching for more hidden codes in the smooth metal. Finally, she swallowed and opened the lid.
The sight inside made her breath hitch, and tightened his own lungs too.
Rows of paper, neat packets bound with aging rubber bands, some of them snapped. She reached in and pulled a packet out, carefully flattening the papers.
“Holy…” Her voice broke off at the sight. Old-school government bonds and stock certificates with embossed seals and ornate borders.
Not one or two. Dozens.
Her gaze shot to his. “Gabe. These are…old.”
Gabe didn’t need to be a financial expert to know what he was looking at. Paper bonds like this held for decades, compounding, surviving market swings because time was on their side.
This was freedom written in faded ink and official stamps.
“These have got to be worth a fortune.” Her voice wobbled. “Not billionaire fortune, but for me? My bookshop? And look! There’s paperwork here that names me as beneficiary of the contents of safe deposit box! This is…”
“The word valuable is an understatement,” he finished for her.
She gulped. “His nephew should have them.”
He watched her, not the papers. The way her fingers trembled. The way hope warred with caution in her expression.
“But Henry wanted you to have them. Why else would he have hidden the key in the book he sent you? From what you’ve told me about Henry, he was no fool. If Henry left this all to you legally, he believed his nephew had enough. He gave you freedom to go anywhere and do anything.”
Her big eyes snapped to his.
This made it possible for her to find a new dream. Their relationship was too new to assume he was included in that.
“What are you going to do?” His voice was sandpaper.
“What am I going to do? I’m going home. Back to Wyoming, my sister, the Malones and their babies. The ranch.” She reached out to touch his hand. “Back with you.”
Heat flared under his ribs.
Their gazes held, and they shared a smile.
Then she reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. “I’m calling Thomas. My financial advisor. He’s here in Denver. I’m not sure you know that Honor and I lived here for a time before I moved to Willowbrook.”
He shook his head. “We both have a lot to learn about each other.”
Her lips slipped into a smile that froze a little when she glanced at the papers in the box.
“I have no idea where to begin with all of this.”
“Call him,” Gabe said. “We’ll take it step by step.”
She exhaled. “I’m glad you’re here, Gabe.”
In answer, he rested his hand on her lower back and kissed the top of her head. She made the phone call, and he listened to her whispery voice as she explained everything to her advisor.
When she hung up, she leaned into Gabe’s side and let out a breath. “He can meet with us in a couple hours. He sounded…shocked. But in a good way.”
“You okay?” He held her closer.
She nodded, her cheek brushing his sleeve. “When Henry Alder told me in that note that he wanted to make sure my dream stayed alive… He knew by the time the box reached me that he’d be dead.”
Gabe looked down at the nest of paper in the metal box. At the careful way Henry had arranged them. At the choice he’d made to keep this separate from his nephew’s inheritance and steer it toward Felicity.
The why of that bit at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Money was a powerful motive behind a lot of crimes.
She shook herself, drawing away from his side. “Let’s see if the bank has a good solution for us to safely carry these out of here. After everything, I don’t trust that a stiff wind won’t blow in and scatter them clear to the Rockies.”
He chuckled. “They wouldn’t dare defy Henry’s wishes.”
She chewed her lip. “We have some time to kill before the meeting. I want to show you Henry’s house. I never had a chance to say goodbye. It feels wrong to…” she brushed a fingertip over one of the bonds, “find this and not go there.”
Gabe didn’t argue. “I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”
The neighborhood where Henry Alder had lived out his life was quiet and boasted old Denver money mixed with modern updates. Mature trees arched over the street like sentries and the man’s house sat solid behind a hedge that had gone a little wild.
“It’s a beautiful house.” Her smile was a little sad.
They drifted to the opening in the hedges and stepped through the open gate. She stopped on the cobbled walk.
“That’s how I really know he’s gone.” She pointed at the corner of the big stone house. “The window in the corner is his library. The light was always on there.”
Just then, the front door opened. A man stepped out—mid-thirties, in jeans and a button-down shirt rolled at the sleeves. An expensive watch glinted on his wrist.
He took in Felicity and Gabe with sharp eyes. “Can I help you?”
Gabe automatically angled his body to shield her.
She straightened, smoothing her hands down her coat. “Oh. Um. I knew the man who lived here.”
Understanding dawned in the man’s eyes. “Ah. You must be my uncle’s friend Felicity.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to intrude—”
“From the bookshop,” he interrupted.
She blinked. “Yes.”
He smiled. “I’m Andrew. Henry’s nephew. I remember him talking about you.”
She drifted a few steps closer to the house, and Gabe shadowed her.
Andrew stood on the porch, hands in his pockets in a casual, open stance that didn’t quite match the way his gaze flicked to Gabe at her side.
“What brings you to town?”
Felicity offered him a careful smile. “Just taking care of some personal business. I wanted to show Gabe where my friend lived.”
“Would you like to come inside?” Andrew twisted with a wave of his hand toward the front door, heavy, oak and set with cut glass that obstructed the view of the inside from passersby on the street.
Through their undeniable connection, Gabe felt Felicity’s response—somewhere between wanting to see her friend’s home one last time…and caution.
Andrew beckoned to them. “Come on. No sense standing on the sidewalk like missionaries. Besides, Henry would insist.”
That got Felicity’s feet moving. They mounted the heavy wood porch steps, and Andrew held the door open.
Gabe felt that old itch between his shoulders, the one that told him this could be nothing. But it could be something.
There was nothing overtly wrong with the guy. He was friendly and appeared relaxed, with none of the usual tells that would trigger Gabe’s alarms. But he’d also inherited everything, and Henry still carved out a separate secret for Felicity.
He followed them in, staying close enough to grab Felicity if he needed to, memorizing exits out of sheer habit. The house smelled like it had a history.
Andrew led them into a living room lined with built-in shelves. “Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Tea? A sandwich? I was about to make one.”
Felicity’s gaze had been roaming over the shelves where a handful of books were arranged, but returned to Andrew. “We’re okay, thank you. We actually don’t have a lot of time. We have an appointment.”
Andrew perched on the arm of a leather chair, casual as anything, but his gaze sharpened. “Ah. Personal business?”
Her voice remained steady. “Yes. Just tying up some loose ends.”
“How long are you staying in Denver?”
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Gabe spoke up as a reminder he was here.
His brows rose. “Quick trip. Where are you staying? Is it that B&B near the park with the stone fountain? My mom always loved that place when she was alive.”
“Oh, we’re just at an Airbnb.”
“On Cherry Tree Street?” he asked immediately. “Little house with the blue shutters and a porch swing?”
Gabe felt her surprise but couldn’t stop her before she nodded. “Yes, actually.”
Andrew’s smile widened. “I walk my dog by it all the time. It’s a nice place. Good choice.”
His instincts didn’t like that. At all. Gabe’s grip tightened on Felicity’s hand.
Andrew got Felicity talking about his uncle then, and she shared a story about how they sometimes stayed up late talking on the phone about what books they’d read.
Andrew listened, some of his easy charm slipping into what seemed like warmth. “That sounds like Henry.”
Gabe studied the man. According to the file, Henry had taken in his nephew after his sister’s death. He had loved him enough to leave him everything. But he’d also gone out of his way to shield part of his legacy, to bury it in codes and to hide a key meant for the woman glued to Gabe’s side.