Chapter Seventeen
Kara
Ichecked into the first hotel I came to, finally finding the solitude I had expected to get in the cabin and hating everything about it. The furniture wasn’t covered in Tuck’s hair. There was no goofy fishing memorabilia or tacky plaid furniture.
There was no Grant.
I slept like shit. I tossed and turned, tried getting some work done, tried reading a book.
None of it mattered. My mind wouldn’t shut up about Grant—not the cabin, not the letter—Grant.
The solitude seeking lumberjack who barged half-naked into my life and changed everything.
If we had met under different circumstances, or if he were actually looking for love maybe…
it didn’t matter. I couldn’t change reality.
When the sun finally came up on Monday morning, the first thing I did was call my lawyer’s office. I couldn’t wait for him to get back to me. I was already on the verge of losing my mind.
“Kara, I saw your email over the weekend. I was planning to call you,” he said.
My already-strung nerves pulled a little tighter. “Do you have an answer for me? What do we do here?”
He sighed before he started speaking, which couldn’t have been a good sign. “We’ll need to verify the authenticity of the letter. Compare the signature and reach out to the notary involved.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, “but we’d only be doing that if the letter actually carried some weight.”
“Unfortunately, the date on the will and the date on the letter are the same. If this letter turns out to be real, then you both have a legal claim to the property. In that case, I would suggest selling and splitting the—”
“Sell Uncle Walt’s cabin to a stranger?” I cut in. “No. I can’t do that.”
“Well, you could buy out the other owner, assuming they agree to sell.”
It was my turn to sigh. “I don’t have the money for that. I paid a fortune for my divorce. I don’t even know how I’d pay for all this authentication you’re talking about.”
“We can argue that the other party needs to prove the letter’s authenticity,” he said carefully.
I would still have to pay him for that, though. My heart sank a little lower.
“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he continued, “but I don’t want to give you false hope.
I don’t know why Walt wouldn’t have mentioned this letter to me, especially if it was signed the same day as his will.
That makes me suspect it’s fake, but if it isn’t, then this is the reality we’re facing. ”
“Selling.”
“Selling. It would save everyone a lot of time and money if you could both agree to sell and split the profit.”
My thoughts started spiraling, my chest tightening until it felt hard to breathe.
I’d just come out of a legal battle I never wanted, and now I was staring down another one.
I didn’t have it in me to do this again.
And more than that, if the letter was real, the property would likely end up being sold.
I would rather let Grant have the cabin than see it go to someone Walt had never known.
Besides, it was his home. He didn’t seem to be sentimental about anything except that old cabin.
I swallowed. “If the letter turns out to be real, I’ll withdraw my claim to the property.”
There was a long pause on the line. “I don’t think you understand,” he said finally. “You have a claim to at least half the property. It doesn’t make sense to walk away.”
I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “I don’t want to fight over it. If the letter is real, then Walt wanted Grant to have it. So let him have it.”
“Kara, listen—”
I hung up and took a deep breath, squeezing the phone hard enough that it dug into my palms.
I needed that fresh start like I needed my next breath.
I wasn’t going to find one here. I’d left the city to escape the memories of my ex, both good and bad. Now everything about Iron Peak would remind me of Grant. Of what could have been but wasn’t.
I had to leave this place behind.