Page 69 of Trails of Temptation

But Keely had been there through it all, every second.

“You don’t have to go with me,” I offered as we walked toward the main street in downtown Hot Springs. “I don’t know how long it’ll take to sign everything.”

“I’ll go get a cup of coffee and do a little shopping then,” she said with a smile, patting my hand as we walked. “Do you want anything?”

“No, not coffee. But thank you. We can go over to Pete’s place afterwards and get a drink if you want.”

“That’d be fine.” She grinned, looking up at me. “Has he been acting weird to you?”

“Well, he hasn’t been overly aggressive toward me anymore, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“No, I mean—” We paused at the entrance to the lawyer’s office, which was street level and overlooked the busy Friday market that was taking place. “He’s been all… He’s just off. I don’t know how to describe it. Sad, almost. I asked him if it was because of me and you and he assured me it wasn’t, and that he was happy for us.”

“Well, I’ll try to talk to him tonight. How about that?”

“Sure, I guess.” She shrugged, adjusting the strap of her purse. “I’m going to grab a quick coffee and then go check out some of the shops for a little while but I’ll meet you back here in about an hour?”

“Sounds great,” I replied, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek, then the forehead. She smelled like the strawberry-scented shampoo and conditioner she loved. I loved it, too. Hell, I loved everything about Keely, and felt a slight pang of regret as she walked away and her bouncy blonde curls disappeared into the coffee shop across the street.

“George Neimons?” a small, brown-haired woman with thickly rimmed glasses asked as I walked into the office.

“Yep.”

“Mr. Graceland is ready for you, just down the hall to the left. The door should be open.”

I nodded at the receptionist, tipping my hat in thanks. I didn’t miss the ruddy pink blush that stained her cheeks as I walked around the corner and down the hallway toward the open door. A very short, stout man of roughly sixty looked up at me, then up again, as if he expected me to me much shorter than I actually was.

“Good lord, you’re a big man.”

“Uh, George Neimons,” I replied, holding out my hand.

He shook my hand, but his gaze roved over my face as he squinted up at me. “You look just like your father, you know. You have a good foot and a half on him, though.”

“Thanks,” I replied, unsure what else I could possibly say as I sat down in a worn leather chair across from his desk.

“So, you’ve formally decided to keep the Edgewater property, correct?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“Great, well, this will be easy then.” He sat down and cleared his throat while pulling out several folders and two lock boxes from underneath his desk. I winced at the sheer amount of paperwork I’d likely have to sign to make the Edgewater property mine, again. “Your mother had an estate manager tend to the financial burden of the property for the past thirty years. They used to work here, actually.”

“But they don’t anymore?”

“Oh, no,” he said with a short chuckle. “Jerry died a few years ago.”

He said it so casually I almost thought he was joking, but he continued fanning through the paperwork until it organized in neat piles.

“All of the bi-yearly property taxes have been paid out of the estate without issue. All we really need to do today is get your signature on… all of these… Ah, yes. We’ll start here. These are just forms that show that you, George Neimons, have inherited the estate and will be taking over as sole owner. This states that the land can be used for both residential and commercial purposes should you decide to start up the ranch. This goes over land use…”

By the time I’d made it through the seemingly never-ending stack of papers, my hand was cramping and my eyes felt heavy.

“Congratulations, sir,” Mr. Graceland beamed, reaching out to shake my hand. “Now we can move on to the lock boxes.”

“I didn’t know she had these,” I mused, watching with interest as he opened metal boxes.

“These belonged to your father, actually. Your mother came here shortly after his death some thirtyish years ago, only the once. They’ve been locked up ever since.” He slid the boxes toward me and I held my breath as I looked down at the contents in shock. “I’ll give you some privacy. If there’s anything you’d like to take with you, please do. Otherwise, everything is perfectly safe here in the vault. We share it with the bank next door.”

“Great, thanks,” I replied absently, barely aware that the man had left the room and closed the door behind him.

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