Chapter 1
ROWAN
Irolled my rental car to a stop beside a row of picture-perfect storefronts. A rush of crisp air filled my lungs when I stepped out. It was cleaner than anything I'd ever breathed in the city, and it made my eyes prickle a little.
Timber Ridge looked just like the photos I’d found online, yet somehow even more charming.
Sun-washed awnings stretched over shop windows, and wooden signs swung gently in the breeze. I stood there for a moment, absorbing the scene like I’d accidentally wandered into the warm-hearted opening shot of a movie.
And then I realized people were looking at me.
A few of them gave friendly smiles, and I got curious glances from others. Something I wasn't used to after growing up in a city where blending in was the norm.
Heat crept up my neck as I gave one of them a small, awkward nod back and pretended to check my phone to look busy.
It was hard to reconcile this inviting town with the woman who had been nothing more than an old photo in a dusty box. My grandmother had just been a name my parents rarely spoke aloud, but now I was getting a glimpse into her world.
Exhaling slowly, I scanned the row of buildings for Mr. Huxley’s office and headed toward it when I spotted the sign.
The bell over the door gave a soft chime as I stepped inside, the warmth of the room wrapping around me after the chilly air.
The woman behind the reception desk beamed a smile at me. “Welcome to Huxley Law. How can I help you today?”
“I’m Rowan Cooke. Mr. Huxley should be expecting me.”
“He is.” Her smile widened. “Welcome to Timber Ridge.”
“Thanks.”
A man with silver hair and wire-rim glasses opened the door to her left and stepped out. “Gerald Huxley. Thank you for coming on such short notice, Ms. Cooke.”
He offered his hand, and I tried to ignore how clammy mine felt when I shook it. “Of course. Thank you for calling.”
“Please, come in and have a seat.” He led me into his office and gestured toward a pair of chairs in front of his desk, then settled across from me and opened a thick folder. “We’ll go through everything at your pace.”
“Okay.”
He began with the practical details. “Your grandmother arranged for the house deed to transfer to you upon her passing. So there are no probate delays on that.” He handed me a cleanly folded document with my name printed neatly beside hers.
“Once you sign here and I file the paperwork, the property will be fully in your name.”
I nodded numbly and signed where he indicated.
Next came two keys on a ring, along with an inventory list of everything inside the cottage.
“All creditors have been paid, and your father was the only other heir. All of the contents inside Eleanor’s home will officially be yours once probate clears.”
“When will that be?” I asked.
“You’re the last person I needed to notify as executor. After today, I can provide final accounts to the court and formally close the estate,” he explained with a gentle smile. “Barring any unforeseen circumstances, everything will officially be yours on Monday.”
The words carried a sense of finality I wasn’t prepared for.
“Everything?”
He tapped the inventory list with his index finger. “Yes, every item listed here.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “This is a lot to take in.”
“If it’s any comfort to know, Eleanor kept to herself, but she was deeply respected here. A kind woman. Very thoughtful.”
I appreciated his insight into my grandmother. “I wish I’d known her better.”
“My condolences, Ms. Cooke.”
“Thank you.” I forced myself to ask a question that had been gnawing at me. “Where is she buried?”
Mr. Huxley folded his hands on top of his desk. “Your grandmother chose cremation. Her urn is at the cottage on the fireplace mantel.”
I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “Thanks for letting me know.”
He slid one final envelope toward me. “Your next stop is the Timber Ridge Credit Union. Eleanor’s checking and savings accounts were also set up as payable to you upon her death, so you’ll just need to sign some paperwork to have them transferred to your name.”
I rose from my chair. “Thank you, truly.”
“It was an honor to serve your grandmother.” He stood with me. “Please reach out if you need anything while you’re in town.”
I nodded and stepped back into the front room. The receptionist looked up immediately, flashing me another warm smile.
“All set?” she asked.
“As set as I can be,” I murmured, wiggling the envelope Mr. Huxley had given me before tucking it carefully into my tote bag. “Could you point me toward the Timber Ridge Credit Union?”
“Of course.” She got up and walked me to the door. “Go left, then right at the bakery. It’s only two blocks down, you can’t miss the sign.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I headed in the direction she pointed out, ready for the next stop in the unexpected journey my grandmother had sent me on.
Everything in downtown Timber Ridge seemed to be close enough to navigate with a glance and a couple of street signs.
The walk to the credit union took all of three minutes, except for the time I spent peering into the bakery window along the way.
I was disappointed to see they mostly had pies, since I loved baking all kinds of bread, but they smelled delicious.
Mr. Huxley’s receptionist was proven correct. The tidy brick building with flower boxes under the windows and a hand-painted sign was easy to spot.
A teller with a cheerful smile waved me forward. “Hi there. How can I help you today?”
“I’m here to transfer a payable-on-death account.” I pulled out the envelope the lawyer gave me. “For Eleanor Cooke.”
Recognition flickered across her face. “Of course. Mr. Huxley already brought over her death certificate for your file, so no need for you to worry about that.”
“Oh, that’s good.” Small towns had advantages I hadn’t considered.
“May I see your ID?” she asked.
I handed my driver’s license over, and after typing a few things into her computer, she slid several forms toward me.
“This first one is the POD authorization. After that, I’ll have you sign a new signature card.
Your debit card will arrive by mail to the address on record, so let me know if we should update that to something other than Eleanor’s cottage. ”
“Um, yes please.” I rattled off my home address while signing in all the required places.
“All done updating that in our system. You’re welcome to make withdrawals here in person while you’re in town,” she offered. “And if you’d like checks, I can order those for you, too.”
“Let’s hold off on that. The debit card should be enough for now.”
“That’s what many of our customers choose to do,” she replied with a polite smile. “Would you like your current balance?”
“Yes, please.”
She jotted down a number, turned the paper around, and slid it across the counter.
My eyes widened at the amount, which was enough to cover more than a year of my living expenses in the city. Maybe more if I stuck to a budget.
And the boons kept coming.
She slid a second slip of paper toward me. “This is the balance in the savings account.”
I nearly choked at the amount. It was significantly more than my annual salary.
She handed me a copy of my paperwork. “Welcome to Timber Ridge.”
“Thanks,” I murmured over the lump in my throat.
I was in a daze when I stepped outside, clutching my tote bag as my head spun with questions I’d probably never have answers to.
I just didn’t understand why my grandmother left all of this to me instead of my father.
He could be a jerk, but he was still her son.
And for all she knew, I might’ve been worse than him.
As curious as I was about my grandmother, I wasn’t in a rush to see her cottage.
Instead of heading straight there as I’d planned, I decided to explore the town.
First, I wandered downtown and did some window shopping.
But that got awkward when I spotted a gorgeous coat and realized I could afford the ridiculous price tag.
Then I got in my rental car and drove without much of a plan, taking winding roads past cozy cabins and pine forests. It was so different from what I was used to.
I didn’t even realize how late it had gotten until my stomach growled. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, I drove back to the main street and parked a few blocks from the credit union because I remembered seeing a restaurant that looked interesting.
After dinner, I would hopefully be ready to face the urn waiting for me at the cottage.