Page 27 of Protected By the Surly Carpenter

“Aunt Carla!”

“Elena, honey!”

She squeezes me tightly, then dramatically pushes me out of the way to hug Clark. He always looks as if my aunt’s flamboyant attention embarrasses him. But I can tell by the glint in his eyes that he actually loves it, like when she insisted on dancing with him at our wedding.

“You big old mountain man, don’t you play shy with me.”

He hugs her politely. “Hi, Carla.”

She ushers us into the gleaming glass and marble foyer of the bank. “Mr. Smythe is expecting us. I’ll go get him.”

She walks quickly toward a hallway with multiple closed office doors, and Clark and I go to the window to stare out at the bustling city street.

“Just a touch busier than our downtown,” he murmurs, standing behind me with one arm around my waist. The other hand reaches up to play with the stones around my throat. As a wedding gift, he took detailed photos of Mom’s emerald necklaceand had a stunning glass replica made so I could wear it all the time without worrying about it.

He also had my engagement and wedding rings designed in such a way that they kind of match one of Mom’s rings that I like wearing on my right hand. After not hearing a peep from my father since he was run out of town, I feel safer wearing her rings now and again.

I also feel secure enough to finally see what’s in this mysterious safety deposit box.

“This way!” Aunt Carla waves us over to where she’s standing with a man in a gray suit.

He greets me politely, checks my ID and has me sign a form, then we go into the vault. He takes my key and unlocks the box before setting it on a table. “Take your time,” he says before disappearing discreetly.

Clark and Carla look at each other, then back at me. “You want us to leave you alone for a moment, baby?” he asks.

“No.” I sit in a chair by the table and open the box. “No secrets.”

They stand behind me while I pull out an envelope full of my baby photos and a few old holiday cards. I flip through them quickly, then set it aside. There’s also an envelope marked “Elena’s childhood pictures,” with a USB drive inside.

Then I carefully take out the thick white envelope at the bottom. There are several stock certificates representing shares in various telecommunications companies. Not a lot, but they were purchased a long time ago, so they’re probably worth a decent amount of money now.

I pull out one last, slightly yellowed sheet of paper. Clark’s hand lands gently on my shoulder and I glance over to see Carla bouncing slightly on her toes.

“A deed…to a house?” I sputter.

“It’s a cottage!” Twisting, I see Carla positively beaming. “I wasn’t one hundred percent sure your mother was able to keep it. She had to sell off so many things when…you know.”

Clark is reading over my shoulder. “It’s just north of Charlotte. Something like a two-and-a-half hour drive from our place, looks like.”

Carla checks the house number. “Ahhh! It’s right beside mine! It’s just a small two-bedroom cottage, nothing fancy. But it’s right on a wide river at the edge of a lake. Stunning sunsets. You’ve never seen anything like them.”

My hand lands on the deed as I try to steady my erratic breathing. We were so desperate for money so many times. Mom could easily have sold this. But if she had, Dad might’ve found out and taken the money from her. She struggled on so that someday I could have this?

I lift my eyes upward. “Thanks, Mom,” I breathe.

Then I look over to Clark, grinning through my happy tears. “We have a cottage.”

“Correction.Youhave a cottage.”

I stand up and wrap my arms around his enormous shoulders. “You just called itourplace. So by that same logic, this isourcottage. We’re married, so everything is fifty-fifty, right?”

He gives me a big squeeze, then I hear him stage whisper to Carla over my shoulder, “It’shercottage.”

My aunt laughs. “I know the people you’ll have to speak to in Charlotte about transferring the title. For now, shall we celebrate with lunch? I know just the place.”

Clark’s hand rests on my rounded belly. “Yes. I don’t want my two girls to go hungry.”

“Ahem?” Carla squints at him.

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