Page 19 of The Cottage on Blueberry Bay

She noticed Ginny make a side glance at him as he spoke.

“Thank you.” She held the envelope he had left with her father in her hands. “I understand there’s art as well?”

Quinn nodded. “Yes, Jacob had a large collection in his barn.”

“There’s a barn?” She didn’t remember seeing a barn, but then again, she wasn’t looking for one.

“It was a blueberry farm originally,” he said. “But a buyer will most likely tear the place down and use the land for something else.”

“He had a farm?” That place was a farm?

“It’s not much of a farm,” he continued. “More of a garden, really, and a lot of wild blueberries.”

“People from all over come to pick ’em,” the secretary said from the other side. “Brings in a lot of business to the little town.”

Meredith turned to look at the secretary.

“Mom, please,” Mr. Michaud said, then he turned back to Meredith. “Jacob opened the land to the public.”

Mom? Meredith thought. What kind of law office is this?

Then an image of hunting for blueberries with her mother on the edge of the earth flashed through her mind.

“Did you say there was a boat as well?” she asked.

“Yes, a commercial fishing boat,” he said. “It’s old, but still in working condition.”

She would sell the boat. She didn’t even know how to drive a small boat, much less a commercial fishing boat.

If Phillip were here, he would tell her what the next steps were. He would advise her just like some billionaire client, but Phillip wasn’t here, and she wasn’t Phillip.

“What are the next steps?”

“I can file with the registry of deeds to transfer the house into your name as soon as town hall is open,” he said.

“They’re not open?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Bonnie takes Fridays off.”

He passed a packet of papers across the table.

“You’ll have to sign a few things now, but I can give you the keys to the house and the boat.” He got up and walked over to a file cabinet, where he pulled out another manila folder, then handed it to her. “Here’s the boat slip information.”

He pulled a set of keys out of the envelope and placed them in front of her. “These are to everything.”

She stared down at the keys—brass, silver, all varying in sizes and clipped together with a ring.

“Thank you, Mr. Michaud,” she said, but she didn’t take the keys. “I was hoping to just leave the estate for the agent. Find someone to appraise everything and sell.”

The attorney shifted in his seat. “I was hoping you would reconsider. At least, until you have a chance to meet with the town’s selectman.”

“Town selectman?” What did the town of Blueberry Bay have to say about her selling a cottage? “Why?”

His eyes flickered over to his secretary—or mom—then back to her.

“Because it’s been a part of the town for many, many years!” she called out, rushing from her desk and over to Meredith.

He held out his hand. “Ginny, calm down. This is her property.”

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