Page 2 of My Lumberjack Valentine

“What will happen to this place?” I ask, trying and failing to swallow back tears.

“It depends on who buys it.” Melissa looks uncomfortable. “Candy Corner has been trying to convince me to sell for a few years.”

I flinch. Candy Corner is the biggest chain candy store in Montana. They’ve been swallowing up independent candy stores all over the state for the past few years, and the thought of them turning Peak Sweets into another soulless corporate chain store is too much to bear.

“I’m sorry,” Melissa says, turning toward the door. “It’s out of my hands. I have to sell, and if Candy Corner is willing to pay…” She doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead, she opens the door, clearly eager to leave. “I really am sorry, Rosalie. Take care of yourself.”

With that, she slips out of the store, leaving me alone with tears streaming down my face. I shut off the lights and sit in the dark, sobbing until it feels like my heart will break.

My home, my business, everything I care about…it’s all slipping away.

I can’t let this happen.

With a shuddering breath, I wipe away my tears and stand up. I need some air. The walls feel like they’re closing in around me, and I need space to think. Things look pretty darn impossible right now, but my mom didn’t raise a quitter.

There must be something I can do.

Anything.

2

BOONE

“Are you kidding me?”I ask, staring at my grandpa in disbelief.

He glares at me, his bushy eyebrows furrowed. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

We’re in his office—a large, wood-paneled room stacked full of old books and antiques. Grandpa is sitting behind his desk, holding Grandma’s will in his hands. Turns out the contents aren’t what I was expecting.

“You’re sure you read it properly?”

“You think I don’t know how to read, boy?”

I’m forty-two years old, but the old man still calls me “boy”, just like he did when I was a kid.

“Can I see it?” I ask, taking a step toward the desk.

Grandpa hands me the will, grumbling, “It’s all there in black and white.”

My eyes scan the will. Grandma left huge chunks of her wealth to charity, a sizable amount to Grandpa, and then…

“To my grandson, Boone, I leave my 5,000 acres of land in Peak Forest and $20,000,000 to use as he sees fit. However, there is a condition. Neither the land nor money can be inherited until he is proven to be in a committed relationship.”

I read the passage over and over, my head throbbing. She left me so much more than I expected, and yet I can’t touch a dime.

Goddammit.

Grandma always was a hopeless romantic. It used to drive her nuts that I didn’t care about relationships or finding somebody to settle down with. I’ve always been a loner, preferring my own company in the quiet of the forest. Grandma thought I’d be happier if I found a wife, and she nagged me about it constantly.

God, I wish she was still here to nag me.

The loss is still raw, a hole in my heart that won’t heal for a long time. She’d been sick for a while, and I’m glad she’s not in pain anymore, but fuck, life sure doesn’t feel the same without her.

“So,” Grandpa says, plucking the will from my hands and setting it on the desk, “there you have it, boy.”

My jaw tightens. I need that inheritance. With all that land, I could finally expand my lumber business. The money could go toward planting more trees and employing lumberjacks from around town. With the right investments, this inheritance won’t just grow the business—it will put Hope Peak’s lumber industry on the map. It could be huge for our town. All I need to do is find a woman, and everything I’ve ever wanted will become a reality.

But I don’t do relationships. Never have. Even thinking about it makes me feel trapped, and I run a hand over my beard, trying to figure out what to do.

---