Page 7 of Marrying the Nanny

“I should clarify that, given Tiffany did not survive thirty days after the death of her spouse, she inherits nothing. That simplifies things a little. We can act on Wilf’s wishes as expressed in this will even though it makes no mention of her or Storm.”

Dennis read in silence a moment then summarized, “Wilf’s estate consists of various properties that are together known as Raven’s Cove. Reid, you’re identified as executor. If you’re unwilling or unable, Logan and then Trystan. There are some stipulations regarding Miriam. That’s your mother, Reid?”

Reid nodded.

“She currently receives support payments, but is entitled to half the profit when Raven’s Cove is sold. Canadian tax law views the transfer of property to heirs as a sale,” Dennis explained. “Taxes will be paid from the estate on capital gains, and Miriam’s settlement will be calculated on the net. I’m sure you could work out continued installments if you wished.” He smiled at Reid.

Reid knew for a fact his mother wanted a check for the full amount and it had better be a fat one.

“A settlement was paid to Glenda when she divorced Wilf.” Dennis directed that to Logan. “So she has no claim on the resort?”

“She signed a prenup when she married him,” Logan agreed with a stiff nod.

Glenda had got a raw deal, considering she hadn’t known she would be raising three boys, two of whom she hadn’t birthed. Reid made a mental note to acknowledge that with a suitable amount once the dust had settled.

“My understanding is that your mother”—Dennis looked to Trystan—“was never married or lived with Wilf. There’s no mention of her here.”

Trystan nodded distantly.

Pauline had also been taken advantage of, being young and naïve when Wilf had his affair with her. They would have to calculate a just settlement for her, too.

“After Miriam’s portion is paid out, the estate will be split equally between, quote, ‘my three sons and future issue.’ That’s standard language to account for additional children who come along unexpectedly. Like Storm.” He looked up with a smile of achievement.

When no one seemed impressed, Dennis sobered.

“Once it moves through probate, you will be free to continue running the resort as is, sell it, or buy each other out.”

Reid bit back a snort. He and his brothers were doing well enough financially, but they didn’t have the cash to buy each other out. Even if they did, he would bet his last dollar that Logan and Trystan had about as much desire to go back to Raven’s Cove as he did.

Wilf had bought the business thirty years ago on a madcap whim. It wasn’t even land. That was leased from the Heiltsuk Nation. No, all Wilf really owned was a handful of buildings and businesses smack in the middle of the Great Bear Rainforest, where there were strict limits on logging, hunting, and development.

That meant Wilf had had few options when he had realized the cost to live and run a business in such a remote location was exorbitant. Wilf had begun offering sport fishing tours twenty years ago to supplement the coffers. The resort’s fortunes were seasonal and fickle, but Reid expected the government to appraise it as a luxury resort and take a sizable bite.

“The bottom line,” Dennis summed up, “is that you are each entitled to one-quarter of half the value of the estate. This answers Harpreet’s question as to whether there is a means of support for Storm.”

Logan’s pithy “Are we sure there’s only four of us?” was an exact echo of the suspicion floating in the back of Reid’s head. The quiet “Heh” from Trystan told him Trys was wondering the same thing.

“Until proven otherwise, Wilf has four children, yes,” Dennis confirmed.

“So we push it through probate, sell it, and the baby’s portion pays for her guardian.” Simple. Reid looked to Emma.

She brightened, but Harpreet spoke up.

“The ministry prefers to place minors with family. Emma is on a working holiday visa. If one of you doesn’t take responsibility for her, Storm will be placed in foster care. That system is overburdened, and the ministry will pursue her portion of your father’s estate to offset the cost of her care.”

Of course it would.

“Offering her for adoption is also something to consider.” Harpreet glanced around the table as she floated that.

Emma’s jaw went slack. She tightened her arms around the baby and glared outrage at each of them, saving her longest, most contemptuous stare for Reid.

Why him? Because he was the eldest? He didn’t need her censure, thanks. Gears in his chest were already locking into resistance against adoption and foster care. They were equally impractical. Not to mention that Wilf, who wasn’t even laid to rest yet, would haul his waterlogged carcass out of the morgue and beat Reid with a stick if he let the government take one penny of his money that he didn’t have to give up.

Reid was aware of something deeper at play, though. Something he didn’t want to examine too closely. He wasn’t a sentimental man. The collection of people he referred to as “family” were not the flourishing, abstract, supportive clan other people spoke of with affection and nostalgia. They were a list of names to whom he felt varying levels of obligation.

Even so, much as he had no use for the romantic version of family, he couldn’t turn his back on any name on the list. If his infant sister needed a home, he would ensure a sound roof was provided—and that it contained someone better equipped to look after a baby than he was.

His gaze clashed into Logan’s.

---