Old Man Joe's place is a modest cabin, smaller than mine but well-built and maintained. He'd always been particular about upkeep, constantly tinkering and improving. The wraparound porch needs some of the railings fixed, but otherwise, it looks solid.
"He was proud of this place," I tell her as we park. "Built most of it himself, like I did with mine."
"Maybe that's where I get my fascination with people who build things," she says with a soft smile. "It's in my DNA."
I help her up the porch steps, watching her face as she takes it all in. There's wonder there, and a hint of sadness. This place represents the grandfather she didn't get enough time with.
The key is hidden under a potted plant, just where Joe always kept it. Inside, the cabin is clean but dusty from months of disuse. Furniture is covered with sheets, giving the place a ghostly quality.
"I can't believe he left me this," Sandra says, running her fingers over a bookshelf filled with well-worn volumes. "We weren't even that close when I was growing up."
"He talked about you," I tell her, remembering conversations with the old man over beers on this very porch. "Always said his granddaughter was the smartest person he knew. Said you'd figure out what really mattered eventually."
Her eyes fill with tears. "Really? He said that?"
I nod, moving to pull her into my arms. "He was proud of you. Kept your picture right there." I nod toward the mantel where a framed photo sits face-down, covered in dust.
Sandra picks it up, wiping away the grime to reveal a younger version of herself, maybe college-age, laughing at something off-camera. "I didn't know he had this."
"He wasn't big on words either," I say. "But he showed how he felt in other ways."
She nods, placing the picture back on the mantel with reverent care. "Like grandfather, like granddaughter, I guess. I wish I'd known him better."
We spend the morning exploring the cabin, uncovering furniture, opening windows to let in fresh air. In the basement, we find Joe's workshop, tools hanging neatly on pegboard, projects in various stages of completion.
"He was making this," I say, picking up a half-finished jewelry box similar to the one I gave Sandra for her keychain. "Probably for you."
She takes it, fingers tracing the intricate carving. "Could you finish it? I'll pay you, of course."
I shake my head. "No payment necessary. I'd be honored to finish something Joe started."
Her smile is worth more than any payment anyway. We continue our exploration, finding little touches of Joe throughout the cabin—books marked with notes in the margins, sketches of project ideas, even a collection of vintage car magazines with Mustangs circled in red pen.
"He knew I'd love that car," Sandra says, flipping through one of the magazines. "Even before I did."
By lunchtime, we've uncovered most of the furniture and opened all the windows, letting fresh air chase away the musty smell. The cabin feels alive again, like it's been waiting for her.
"What do you think?" I ask as we sit on the porch steps, sharing a sandwich I packed. "Could you live here?"
She looks out at the view, thoughtful. "I think I could. It needs work, but that's part of the appeal. Making it mine while honoring what Grandpa built." She glances at me. "It's not too isolated for you, is it?"
The question catches me off guard. "For me?"
Her cheeks color slightly. "I mean, if you were to visit. Or whatever."
The implication that she's factoring me into her decision about staying warms me more than it should. "It's about ten minutes from my place. Perfect distance."
Her smile is radiant. "Good to know."
After lunch, we check the plumbing and electrical, making a list of things that need attention before the cabin would be properly livable. The pipes need bleeding, some of the wiring looks questionable, and the roof could use inspection before heavy winter snows.
"I can help with most of this," I tell her as we lock up to head back to town. "Or recommend people who can."
"My hero," she teases as she rises on tiptoes to kiss me. "Thank you for today. For everything."
Back in town, we stop at Bean & Bloom for coffee. Sage greets us with a knowing smile that makes Sandra blush and me roll my eyes, though there's no real annoyance behind it.
"You two are coming to the tree lighting tonight, right?" Sage asks, setting our drinks on the counter. "Whole town will be there."
