Page 4 of Making New Plans

“Yes, now,” Sal said, finally looking away from her grandson.

Hunter’s jaw pulsed as if he wanted to say something, but he merely stood and followed as she headed into the office behind me. The lawyer and I squeezed in after them.

I only had three chairs and the desk I’d nabbed at Goodwill. Sal and the lawyer glanced at the moose head but said nothing. I rubbed the back of my hot neck as I sat down and tried to remember if I’d put on deodorant this morning. Clearly, I was going to need it to survive this meeting.

The lawyer remained standing and clicked open his briefcase. “Now then,” he said. “We’re here to acknowledge and fulfill the last wishes of Stephen Erickson. I’ve been, er, instructed to make this short and to the point.” His bulbous gray eyes flicked to Sal then back to his briefcase as he all but dumped its contents onto the desk.

I couldn’t help staring at Hunter, who was glaring so intently at the lawyer he didn’t notice. Whatever happened next would affect both of us greatly, and I wondered if the same storm of emotions that raged over me battered at him as well.

After shuffling his papers in order, the lawyer intoned, “The late Mr. Erickson’s debts have been paid from the estate. The little money left he gives to his son, Hunter Erickson. He didn’t have a car—” Hunter’s mouth twisted in an almost-imperceptible sneer, “—which leaves this lodge, the Pine Grove Lodge, the property it stands on, and the small house at the back of the property where he resided until his death.”

My heart pounded like a boulder tumbling down a cliffside, and I gripped my chair arms hard enough to Hulk-rip them off.

The lawyer rambled on in the same tone, completely unaffected by the sudden tension in the room. “Stephen bundled up the entire property and buildings into one asset to leave to one person. Hunter Erickson.”

A roaring sound filled my ears, blocking out Hunter’s reaction. I mean, what had I expected? That he would leave it to me instead of his own son? I had thought, for just a moment… But it’d been stupid. I was naïve for thinking I could ever own a place like this. Own it and manage it. Not for someone else. But for myself.

A thought barreled in out of nowhere like a semi through a red light: What would Hunter do with the property?

He didn’t exactly look happy, but he did seem satisfied. Which meant he had plans. But what plans?

Sal cleared her throat and lifted a pointed eyebrow at the lawyer.

He fumbled his papers. “Yes, yes, um, there is a stipulation to the inheritance. Two, actually.”

And, just like that, all hackles went back up.

“One, Hunter must remain at the lodge for the next thirty days before he can fully inherit the property. And two, during that time, Miss Chloe Higgins will train him on how to run Pine Grove. Then, at the end of the consecutive thirty days, he may do with the property as he pleases.”

For a moment, silence reigned. Then Hunter and I shouted at once.

2

Hunter

“What?!”

The whimpering excuse for a lawyer flinched, but Sal merely narrowed her eyes. Chloe’s smooth pink lips formed silent words as her gaze darted from me to the lawyer and back again. I steeled myself against her reaction. Just as I’d prepared to do when I’d heard that she would be a part of the will reading. Just as I had at my grandfather’s and dad’s funerals, when her sad blue eyes and kind words had threatened to tear a hole in my iron-clad defenses.

While Chloe stuttered questions at the lawyer, my brain went into overdrive, trying to fit the bits and pieces of my destroyed plan back together. I’d been counting on selling the lodge for two reasons. To seal up this era of my life in a tidy box and dump it by the wayside. And to take the money from the sale and open my own architecture firm where I could call the shots for once.

I’d assumed the crazy old man would’ve simply left it to me, if he even remembered to sign the damn papers. This stipulation made no sense. A prison sentence and forced labor? What the hell was this? An escape hatch opened in my mind.

In a much calmer but authoritative voice, I asked, “Are you sure this stipulation is legally binding?”

Chloe scowled at me—I must have interrupted her—while the lawyer had the nerve to look offended. “Of course it is. I was there when he wrote it out.”

My eyes narrowed. “And was he in a fit state of mind?”

Sal thumped her cane next to me, but I ignored her. She knew damn well that my question was valid.

The lawyer uselessly adjusted his baggy suit over his paunch. “Yes, he was.”

Hmm, one argument down, one left.

I glanced at Chloe, whose wide blue eyes, the ones that always reminded me of the ocean under a clear sky, were fixed on me like I was the last person she’d want holding the keys to our prison cell.

Without looking away from her, I spoke again. “Do I have to be on the premises for thirty days? Miss Higgins could send me any information I need during that time. My father wasn’t exactly proficient in the virtual world, so maybe he didn’t realize that all of this could be done via the internet. No need to upend our lives over his ignorance.”

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