1. Will
1
WILL
Present Day - January
Apart from a quick reconnaissance visit in October to check out the state of the property, I haven't been back to Timber Falls since I was a teenager. But that's about to change because today is the day I'm officially moving onto the mountain and our new home at Cooper Ranch.
During my last visit late last year, I was truly shocked by the dilapidated state of not only Gramps's house but the outbuildings and property as a whole. That knowledge and the need to wrap things up with my construction business and life back in Chicago meant it's taken me a few more months than planned to get here.
Now it's mid-January, winter, when everything's either frozen or on its way to be. The snow is thick, the air bites, the visibility is low, and the highway leading into town is as treacherous as any I've ever seen before.
But that's neither here nor there because I'm the first of us to arrive and I've only got a few weeks to get Gramps's house in a livable state for the four of us.
The frosty air nips at my cheeks as I heave the last box off the back of my truck and onto the barely covered porch.
Rusty hinges creak as I push the front door open, and I'm met once again by the same musty scent of neglect and disrepair that filled the house two months ago. Beneath though is a sense of rightness—of belonging—that I can't explain. This was the place that Gramps called home and somehow, I feel closer to him just by being here. He wanted us here. We've just got to trust in that… in him.
Leaving the small amount of belongings I brought with me outside, I move from the entry into the living room. The shift in the air sends dust motes dancing in the thin slivers of light filtering through the dirty front windows, helping cast a soft glow over the worn furniture and faded walls that were once bright and vibrant to me as a kid.
The fireplace on the far wall is blackened with ash and soot. A small round table sits in the dining area, covered in a layer of dust so thick that I leave an indent as I drag my finger over the wood while walking past.
All the things I need to do escape me as the state of the house and what Gramps's life was like in his final days hit me all over again.
Not for the first time, I'm overwhelmed with the loss of a man I respected above almost everyone else. It's also the sheer size of the job ahead of us. We all agreed to move here as per Gramps's last wishes, but right now, it seems almost insurmountable. Surely he wouldn't set us all up to fail? There must be a reason for all of this.
We've got work to do, Will , I hear him say in my head. Just like he always did whenever us kids would spend the Summer here. With four rambunctious energetic boys and our sister Abby, there were always things to do, repairs to make, or even just things Gramps would insist needed to be done to help keep the place running.
Back then, the place was a working ranch but also more. It was a place where travelers and people passing through could come and stay for free–as long as they chipped in and pulled their weight. A farm that relied on the labor of others to work alongside Gramps—and us kids when we were here.
When he moved in with Mom and Dad—who we all call Cap—for a decade when they were still living in Nebraska, he hired some of the long-term visitors to stay on and keep it running, He also told everyone that would listen that the mountain would look after things until he came back.
For the past five years, it has just been Gramps living here by himself. Mom and Cap had moved back to Anchorage by then and would come across to visit as often as they could, but that was always difficult with Cap working at sea for months on end.
One thing is for sure though. By the look of the place, the mountain fell down on the job when it came to looking after the place.
Now it's the job of us four grandsons to bring Cooper Ranch back to its former glory. Having had many a conference call with my brothers since our meeting with John the lawyer, it's something we're all committed to seeing through.
I snap out of my morose mood and straighten, making a mental list of what I need to do today .
First things first, clean out a space to stack my boxes of stuff inside, then maybe clean the kitchen and living room so that I can survive here without choking on dust and setting off my allergies.
I tidied up the last time I was here, but since the house has been closed up and unoccupied, I'm right back to square one.
It's then that my phone vibrates in my back pocket. Pulling it out, I see Cayson's name on the screen.
"Hey, Case."
"Hey. You get there OK?"
"Sure did. Not sure the place is OK to be in for too long though," I reply.
"You're the one who played the big brother card and wanted to get there before everyone else."
I shrug even though he can't see me do it. "Someone had to, and y'all be here soon enough."
"I'm guessin' it's just as bad as before? No magic cleanin' fairies from the mountain came in and tidied up while you were gone?"
"Unfortunately not," I chuckle. "Shouldn't take me long to clean the place once I get stuck into it. It'll be dust-free by the time you all get here, anyway. I'm just glad I bought a new mattress with me from Anchorage last time, and that it's still plastic-wrapped."
"At least you've got somewhere to sleep then."
"Yep," I say, looking around the room.
"And we'll be there in a few weeks to really get things started. Not that I even know where to begin."
I make my way out into the entryway again, looking down the long hallway heading to the back of the house that's full of empty boxes ready to be filled with Gramps's stuff. There are four rooms on one side, another two more on the other along with a bathroom in desperate need of a re-fit, a toilet that is fifty years old and needs retirin', and a laundry room that will have a new dryer and washer ASAP once my brothers arrive.
It may have only been our grandfather living here, but this was once a family home where my father and his siblings grew up. It was full of warmth and love. It was his legacy—his family's one too—and now it's our job to continue that. It's that feeling that we're all hoping to be able to bring back.
To turn this rundown house back into a home–albeit, in a compound of sorts. This is where we'll be living for the next two years at least–or however long after that we stay here.
I guess then we'll find out why Gramps wanted us all to come back here. That's the hope, anyway…
"I'll at least clear the rooms out before y'all get here. I figure if we've got somewhere to eat, clean up, and sleep, that'll see us through for a while."
"For sure," he says. "So… have you found any more booby traps yet?"
That's the other thing that I discovered during my reconnaissance mission a few months ago. Gramps had stepped up his paranoia and prepping efforts, something I realized when I opened the old bomb shelter out back and found not only a ton of stockpiled dry goods and canned food as well as a water purifying system, solar panels, a bunch of tools and equipment, weapons I wanted no part of and quickly surrendered to the sheriff's office, and finally, a tripwire—that I almost tripped.
Thankfully, I'd gone in slow and was able to stop myself in time. There was also an electric fence that had been installed around the entire perimeter of the property with solar power panels hidden to power it. Something I found out when I put my hand on the front gate to let myself in.
"Nope," I reply. "But I've only just arrived. Who knows what we'll find once we get stuck into things."
He laughs. "At least we won't go hungry or be sittin' ducks up there. Gramps took care of that ."
"I got rid of the guns, remember."
"Yeah, but you left the crossbow from the bunker, right?" He almost sounds excited by the prospect.
"Case…"
"OK. I stop talkin' about it for now. I know the place is ancient, but I'm lookin' forward to bringin' it up to the twenty-first century and seein' what I can bring to the table, so to speak."
Returning to the living room, I move to the front window and wipe my hand over the glass, smearing the dust and grime out of the way so I can look over the snow-covered landscape that's now ours.
"Dust, mess, hoardin' and all, I have a good feelin', Case. I think this might be just what we all need," I tell him.
"It's more preppin' than hoardin', remember?" There's no missing the amusement in his tone. "But I guess only time will tell, and wouldn't you know it, we've got nothin' but time."
"Yeah, yeah. Two years before the title is transferred from the estate to all of us, I remember."
"Had to put a time limit on it, didn't he," Case says with a laugh.
"Anyway, Tonight, I'm dumpin' my stuff in a bedroom, cleanin' the kitchen enough to be sanitary, and havin' me some ramen for dinner before makin' the bed and sleepin' for a week."
"You probably need to," he agrees. "And just so you know, you can do that. There's no rush. We don't need everythin' done before we get there. I want to help. Sutt and Jude do too. It belongs to all of us now, so you don't have to be the superhero big brother doin' everythin' for everyone still. Yeah?"
I sigh, knowing he's right but I'm also aware of my shortcomings—like my workaholic tendencies. "I hear you, Case."
"Good. Well, I just wanted to make sure you got there in one piece. Now I can let Sutt and Jude know so they can stop blowin' up my phone," he laughs. "But take care up on that mountain all by yourself."
"There's that other family we don't talk about living on the other side, remember?"
"Damn, Will. Mention them and Gramps will be turnin' in his grave."
"Good call," I say, chucking under my breath.
He joins me. "Anyway, we'll be there soon enough and then the real work–I mean, fun –can begin. Who'd have thought we'd all be livin' under the same roof again in our thirties, huh?"
"Mom and Cap are over the moon. Abby thinks it's hilarious. Bet it won't be long till they're comin' up here to visit."
"As long as Mom brings us her bakin' and stockpiles her cookin' for us, then bring it on," he adds.
I chuckle. "Look at you, plannin' to prep just like Gramps already. Maybe that's why we're all comin' here, to finish what he started before the world ends."
Case sighs. "Whatever the old man's plan was, we've got more than enough time to work it out."
"That we do."
"I better go. I still need to pack half the house before handin' the keys to the realtor next week. Then, Jude and Sutton will arrive and we'll get everything we're keeping into storage at Mom and Cap's in Anchorage. Then it's on to Timber Falls," he explains. "Just keep checkin' in, yeah? Don't want to turn up and find out you've been eaten by a bear or somethin'."
There's no stopping my snort at that image. "Promise I won't get eaten by a bear. You do remember I'm thirty-five and have been livin' alone for a while now, longer than you. I'm sure I can manage a couple of weeks at the ranch without y'all.
"OK. Well don't fall off the mountain then," he counters. "Well, a ridge, but it's part of the mountain so it still counts." I look out the window at said 'mountain' aka Cooper's Ridge, which connects to Deer Mountain, which is where the 'other family we don't talk about' resides. "And don't make any enemies in town. We're goin' to need all the help we can get if we're goin' to get the ranch back to where it should be."
"I'll try my best," I snort.
"Two weeks, Will. Then the fun begins."
Two weeks, and maybe we'll have an idea of why Gramps wanted us here.
That's the best we can hope for, anyway.