Page 8 of Your Heart & Mine

“Me?" Harper asked incredulously. "Not Mama?"

The attorney nodded. "He was very determined about it when we last updated his will."

Harper looked around the room as everyone's eyes rested on her. She tried to swallow down the large lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. "How soon can we meet? I can't believe this."

Mr. Morton stood quickly, obviously desperate to escape the room full of grieving women. “I'm sure we can accommodate you tomorrow. Check in with Melissa on your way out. She can set you up with an appointment and we’ll go over everything.” He turned to Harper’s mother and rested a big hand on her shoulder. “Again, Mitzi, you can't know how sorry I am about all of this.” Mitzi didn’t acknowledge his words before he left the room for the family to try to process what had just happened.

Harper looked around at the devastation her daddy had left in his wake. She had a sudden feeling of forebodingthat her life was about to take an even more unexpected turn than she had thought.

Chapter seven

Unintended Consequences

"Idon'tunderstand,"Harperrepeated, hating the whining quality her voice was taking on. "How is everything gone? He owned half the town."

"Your father was always a big risk taker, Harper," Mr. Morton tried to explain as they met the next morning. "All his life, he made things happen. He was one of the luckiest men I've ever known. Things always worked out for him…until the last couple of years." The man huffed a huge sigh. "He robbed Peter to pay Paul, basically, on that Point Lookout deal. He was convinced a resort there would take off and be worth it, that the mortgages on the various buildings and businesses were temporary. It's how he'd always done things."

Mr. Morton's brow furrowed and he took a sip from the small water glass on his desk. "But this time, well, obviously it didn't. He started getting foreclosed on. At first, it was just a few small properties, so he wasn't too worried. He chided me when I expressed my concerns. 'I've got the Midas touch, Gordy, don't be such an old woman!' he told me more than once. But as things kept going downhill, the local banks wouldn't take him on anymore. Most of the rest of the assets ended up with a firm called Ward Development Corporation."

"And who is that? Why were they interested in buying a bunch of properties in such a random, remote little mountain town?" Harper asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," the attorney admitted. "I tried to run them down several times, but they have a bunch of subsidiaries and shell corporations between them and the owner of the company. All I know is that I always dealt with a man named Davis Buchanan, and he was only head of acquisitions. He never would discuss who the owners of the company were, or how Carrington came to their attention." The man looked chagrined. "I tried to save the house, Harper, I really did. I hadn't forwarded the final paperwork to them yet when your daddy passed. I had thought about 'losing' the final contracts but, in the end, he called me before I destroyed them. Ethically, I just couldn't do it. I'm so sorry, dear. I hope you can forgive me."

Harper patted his hand across the table. "No, Mr. Morton. None of this is your fault. You only did what Daddy had you do. I just can't believe he could be so cavalier with our home. Mama and Brenna still live there. It will kill Mama to have to leave that house. She adores it." She swallowed hard. "You said we had six months, though, right? Before the balloon payment is due?"

"That's right, but it is a big one," the man confessed, his eyes filled with sadness. "A very big one. There's only a couple of thousand left in the investment account and, with your mama not working…." he trailed off as the outcome was clear.

"We'll figure something out," Harper said, her jaw set. She would not lose her family home, no matter what they had to do. "Thank you for going over it all with me. I tried to get Mama to come with me, but she refused. I don't think she's ready to face it all yet."

"Completely understandable," the older man assured her. "Your daddy was very proud of you, Harper. I know he didn't show it, but he was always talking about how smart you were, and how proud he was of how far you'd come in your real estate company. I'm sure he never expected you to have to deal with this, but he had complete faith in your abilities to get things done."

Harper was taken aback. She couldn't remember her father ever saying he was proud of her. All she ever heard was how much more she should be doing and how to do it differently. She'd always felt like a disappointment to him. What she would have given to have heard that he was proud of her just once.

She fought back tears to respond. "Thank you for that, Mr. Morton. It means a lot."

"You call me, Harper, if you need anything. Anything at all," the attorney said finally, squeezing her shoulder.

Harper nodded and made her way to the door. Her hair whipped around her head as she stepped onto the sidewalk. A cold wind was racing down off the mountain in front of a storm that was predicted for the afternoon. She shivered and turned up the collar of her red wool coat and dug mittens and a knitted hat out of her pockets. She'd lived almost her entire life in these mountains, but the biting cold could still take her by surprise. She hoped it wasn't an omen of things to come.

Wyck was leaving the real estate office on the corner after gathering the keys for one of the small properties he now owned when he saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. He turned and froze. Harper. She was standing on the sidewalk only a few doors down from him struggling to get mittens on. She'd always had cold hands and mittens in every jacket or coat she owned. She usually also had a couple of pairs stashed in her car somewhere. She hated cold hands. A small smile came unbidden to his lips. He'd always loved warming up her hands. He always ran hot and it was a joke between them — he'd been made to keep her warm. Before he consciously thought about it, he was calling her name.

"Harper!" He threw up a hand to catch her attention.

She swung around at her name. But instead of coming toward him, she quickly turned and headed in the other direction.

"Harper! Wait!" he yelled and jogged toward her retreating form. She was in high-heeled boots, so it didn't take him long to catch up to her. He lightly grabbed her arm to try to stop her.

"What do you want, Wyck?" she said fiercely as she spun to face him.

He held up his hands, surprised at the fury on her face. "Whoa. I only wanted to say hi. Maybe see if you wanted to have coffee and talk."

"I can't do this with you, Wyck. I've got enough on my plate. You can't just waltz in here, pop up, then disappear," she said, emotion thick in her throat. "You had your chance the other night and you chose to disappear without a word…again."

"I'm sorry, Harper," he offered contritely. "I shouldn't have shown up the other night. I realized after I got there that you had too many responsibilities for you to have to deal with me, and, well, I wasn't ready to take on everyone else. I didn't have your number, but figured I'd run into you in town. Didn't think I'd be too welcome if I showed up at your front door."

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He'd fucked it all up. He should have left her a note at least. He hadn't even thought about her feeling like he was leaving her again. He shrugged his shoulders. His perfectly coiffed hair lost the battle with the biting wind and a lock fell across his forehead. "Could we maybe start over?"

At that moment, he looked so much like the boy she had known, her rage and hurt deflated like a two-day-old balloon. The air leaked from her lungs in a long lingering stream and her shoulders sank. "Fine, but let's get off the street. The whole town will know our business in five minutes if we don't."

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