He laughed. “She can’t be that bad, you old grump.”
“She pulled pepper spray on me, and her luggage looks like it belongs in a zoo.”
“Pepper spray is legal in Colorado, Grant.”
“Yeah, well, this one should need a license.”
I shifted on the couch, the old springs creaking under my weight, and scrubbed a hand over the back of my neck. My shoulders were tight, as if I’d been bracing for a punch that hadn’t landed yet.
Story of my life. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Hank let out a long-suffering sigh. “Alright, alright. Let me finish my cop questions. Are you a threat to her?”
“You know the answer to that,” I all but barked. I knew I was a big guy, intimidating. I had a wrinkle between my eyebrows from scowling, and people were known to cross the street when they saw me coming. But I wasn’t a violent person. I just preferred my solitude. It was really all I had ever known, and now it fit me like an old shirt.
“Just doing my due diligence as an officer,” Hank said. “Sorry to say, this is a matter for the courts. Not up to me to look at wills and letters and decide which is legit. If you really want, I can come by and chat with her, see if I can convince her to take off. Since you already live there, I have some grounds to remove her, but—”
“Nah. No reason for that.” I exhaled hard, rubbing my forehead. “We’ll let the lawyers figure this out.”
My eyes closed as I spoke, and for a split second I pictured Walt sitting in his old chair, coffee mug in hand, giving me that amused look he always got when I overreacted to something.
“Yeah, I’d say that’s best. And Grant?”
“Yeah?”
“Be nice to the woman. If she just lost her uncle and shows up here to find you…well, take it easy on her.”
I frowned, leaning back on the couch, feeling the familiar shape hug my frame. “I’m perfectlycapable of being nice.”
“You’re also perfectly capable of being an ass,” Hank deadpanned. “Hence why I mentioned it.”
“Thanks for the unhelpful advice, Sheriff,” I muttered, hanging up. I swore I could hear him laughing in the background.
I glanced back towards where Kara had disappeared. Tuck was lying on the floor outside Walt’s old room, softly wagging his tail and looking up at the door, waiting for it to open. Whether he was grieving his owner, happy to see Kara, or both, I wasn’t sure.
The cabin was quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint whistle of wind outside the window. For a moment, I could pretend everything was normal.
But I knew better.
Kara wasn’t going anywhere. Not willingly, and certainly not quietly. She had stubbornness written all over her, especially if she took after her uncle.
Walt had loved her, and she was grieving. Fighting with her wouldn’t change the outcome of this whole thing. I could play nice for his sake, but I wouldn’t give up what was mine.
Chapter Three
Kara
Istepped into my Uncle Walt’s room and shut the door behind me. Before I had even taken a step, the familiar smell of his aftershave hit me. He had worn the same one since I was a kid, always perfectly clean-shaven even if he had nowhere to be.
The bottle had to be here somewhere.
Fighting back tears, I stepped further into the space. The quilt on the bed was familiar. My aunt had made it before she died when I was a kid. I ran my fingers over the edge, careful not to disturb the neat folds.
The closet didn’t have a door, and my eyes skimmed over a sea of plaid. They weren’t just clothes—they were his clothes. A man who had been so important to me when I was younger. A man I hadn’t been there for in his last days. My throat constricted, and I swallowed hard.
His watch sat on the dresser. His glasses and book rested onthe nightstand. It looked as if no one had touched anything. I could almost pretend Uncle Walt was just in the other room and would be back any minute.
I stood there longer than I meant to, listening to the quiet hum of the cabin settling around me. The walls creaked softly, as if they were breathing, holding onto him the same way I was. It felt wrong that the world had kept moving when his had stopped.
