Chapter Two
Grant
Iwatched the mystery woman—Kara—walk away, having gone from furious to emotional at the mere mention of Walt’s things. I believed her when she said she was his niece. Walt had mentioned her all the time. I had probably seen a picture of her at some point and just hadn’t connected the dots.
I wasn’t sure what to make of the rest of it.
She disappeared into the hall, leaving a leopard-print suitcase and a couple of cardboard boxes cluttering the entryway.
I slumped back onto the couch, stretched my legs, and let out a long exhale.
I didn’t do well with people. I had always been a loner until I met Walt and started taking care of him.
Going back to being alone after his death had been harder than I’d expected, but surely easier than having this hurricane as a houseguest.
I needed a plan. This was my home. I had the paperwork to prove it. But what if she did too, and I ended up out on my ass?
I pulled out my cell phone and dialed a number I knew by heart. Hank. Sheriff Lawson. Well, acting sheriff—but the title didn’t matter for getting answers.
The phone felt heavy in my hand, slick with sweat despite the chill in the cabin. I stared at the worn knot in the pine wall across from me, tracing it with my eyes as it rang. My jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it, and I forced myself to breathe through my nose.
“Sheriff Lawson,” his voice came through, all calm authority.
“No need to be formal, Hank. It’s just me.”
He chuckled. “Doesn’t mean you don’t need me in my capacity as sheriff.”
“Whatever. Listen, I need some advice.” I told him all about the whirlwind that was Kara, and the predicament I found myself in.
As I spoke, my gaze drifted to the hallway where Kara had vanished. The faint smell of citrus lingered in the air after she’d gone, clashing with the old wood smell of this place. I hated how noticeable it was. Hated more that I noticed at all.
I could practically see Hank’s blue eyes twinkling behind the receiver. He was laughing; I was sure of it. He was one of the few people who found my standoffishness funny rather than steering clear of me and thinking I was an asshole.
“Tell me this,” he said finally, “do you think this woman is a threat to you?”
“Not unless stress can kill in a very short amount of time.”
He laughed. “She can’t be that bad, you old grump.”
“She pulled pepper spray on me, and her luggage looks like it belongs in a zoo.”
“Pepper spray is legal in Colorado, Grant.”
“Yeah, well, this one should need a license.”
I shifted on the couch, the old springs creaking under my weight, and scrubbed a hand over the back of my neck. My shoulders were tight, as if I’d been bracing for a punch that hadn’t landed yet.
Story of my life. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Hank let out a long-suffering sigh. “Alright, alright. Let me finish my cop questions. Are you a threat to her?”
“You know the answer to that,” I all but barked.
I knew I was a big guy, intimidating. I had a wrinkle between my eyebrows from scowling, and people were known to cross the street when they saw me coming.
But I wasn’t a violent person. I just preferred my solitude.
It was really all I had ever known, and now it fit me like an old shirt.
“Just doing my due diligence as an officer,” Hank said.
“Sorry to say, this is a matter for the courts. Not up to me to look at wills and letters and decide which is legit. If you really want, I can come by and chat with her, see if I can convince her to take off. Since you already live there, I have some grounds to remove her, but—”
“Nah. No reason for that.” I exhaled hard, rubbing my forehead. “We’ll let the lawyers figure this out.”
My eyes closed as I spoke, and for a split second I pictured Walt sitting in his old chair, coffee mug in hand, giving me that amused look he always got when I overreacted to something.
“Yeah, I’d say that’s best. And Grant?”
“Yeah?”
“Be nice to the woman. If she just lost her uncle and shows up here to find you…well, take it easy on her.”
I frowned, leaning back on the couch, feeling the familiar shape hug my frame. “I’m perfectly capable of being nice.”
“You’re also perfectly capable of being an ass,” Hank deadpanned. “Hence why I mentioned it.”
“Thanks for the unhelpful advice, Sheriff,” I muttered, hanging up. I swore I could hear him laughing in the background.
I glanced back towards where Kara had disappeared. Tuck was lying on the floor outside Walt’s old room, softly wagging his tail and looking up at the door, waiting for it to open. Whether he was grieving his owner, happy to see Kara, or both, I wasn’t sure.
The cabin was quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint whistle of wind outside the window. For a moment, I could pretend everything was normal.
But I knew better.
Kara wasn’t going anywhere. Not willingly, and certainly not quietly. She had stubbornness written all over her, especially if she took after her uncle.
Walt had loved her, and she was grieving. Fighting with her wouldn’t change the outcome of this whole thing. I could play nice for his sake, but I wouldn’t give up what was mine.