At least he hoped they would, because he’d been feeling so lucky that she’d decided to stay here on the island. Would she change her mind if she lost the cottage?
Evie felt Randy’s reassuring hand on her back as he opened the door to Mr. Howe’s office.
No one was at the receptionist’s desk, but the door to Mr. Howe’s office was wide open. They walked over to it and saw him, dressed casually in slacks and a short-sleeved knit shirt. His desk was a large, old wooden one covered in stacks of papers. One wall of the office was lined with dark mahogany shelving stuffed with books. She knocked lightly on the doorframe.
Mr. Howe looked up. “There you are. Evie, good to see you. And Randy, hello.” Mr. Howe walked over and shook their hands. “Please, take a seat.”
They sat across from him. “Sorry about no receptionist. I gave her some extra time off during the holiday season. She has four kids and lots to do.” He smiled at them. “Now, I assume you brought the document?”
Her hands trembled slightly as she handed the document to Mr. Howe. She watched anxiously as he carefully read the paper, her stomach knotting with each passing second. When he finally looked up, his expression was serious.
“I’m afraid Mr. Barlowe’s claim appears to be legally valid,” Mr. Howe said, frowning.
Her heart sank. She’d known it was a possibility, but hearing it confirmed made it all too real. She struggled to keep her composure.
Randy reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She glanced at him, managing a small, grateful smile.
Mr. Howe leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen thoughtfully against his desk. After a moment, he spoke again, a hint of optimism in his voice. “Of course, with personal loans, it’s hard to prove authenticity. And at the very least, I believe I might be able to buy you more time.”
Her heart leaped at his words as she clung to this tiny hope. She leaned forward eagerly. “What do you mean? How?”
The lawyer set down his pen and folded his hands on the desk. “There are a few legal strategies we could employ to delay the process,” he explained. “It’s an old document and there might be technicalities we can use to our advantage. I’ll also do some looking into the Barlowe family.”
She nodded, her hope growing. “How long do you think you could delay it?” Not that she thought she’d be able to come up with the sum, anyway. So, eventually, she’d still lose the cottage.
Mr. Howe rubbed his chin. “It’s hard to say for certain, but I’d estimate we could potentially buy you an additional two to three months, maybe even more, if we’re lucky.”
Evie felt a bit of relief wash over her. It wasn’t a solution, but it was something. A chance. She glanced at Randy, who gave her an encouraging nod.
“Thank you. Start wherever you think is best.” She wondered how much his legal fees would amount to.
“I can get started right away.”
“I… I had just decided on keeping the cottage,” she admitted.
A warm smile spread across the lawyer’s face. “Genevieve had hoped you’d keep it.”
Surprise flickered through her. Nana hadn’t ever told her she wanted her to keep the cottage. “She did?”
“Yes, she did. And she told me to help you in any way I can. There will be no fees for my services. Genevieve helped me greatly when I first moved to the island. I never would have had a successful practice without her help. She was a special lady.”
“She was.” Evie nodded, marveling again at how Nana had quietly helped so many people.
“I’ll keep in touch,” Mr. Howe said as he rose.
“Thank you.” Gratitude welled up inside her. “I appreciate any help you can give me.”
She and Randy walked out into the bright sunshine. He turned to her. “See, there’s hope.”
She took a deep breath, tilting her face toward the sky, allowing the sun to wash over her, then looked at Randy. “A little hope is better than none.” She allowed herself to believe, just for a moment, that everything might work out after all.
Evie invited Randy over later that evening to open another item from the Christmas box. They settled on the couch with the box on the table. The lights from her Christmas tree cast a warm, cheerful glow around them. She’d put on Bing Crosby’s White Christmas album, another one of her favorites.
“You pick. I like watching you choose.” He smiled at her, his eyes filled with warmth and… and something.
She opened the box and reached inside, then unwrapped her chosen item to find a small velvet pouch. She loosened thedrawstring and pulled out a small piece of glass. “Oh, it’s sea glass. And it looks just like a Christmas tree, doesn’t it?”
He took it from her and inspected it. “It does look like a Christmas tree.”
