The tears I had been holding back finally fell. I hadn’t been here for him. While I had been bitterly fighting for half the tattered remains of my marriage, he had been here. Same watch, same aftershave, same plaid shirts, but being cared for by someone I didn’t know.
A stranger, who apparently, now had claimed my uncle’s cabin.
How could Uncle Walt have made such a close friend and not told me about him? Or did he tell me, and I was too distracted to remember?
My eyes caught on an unfamiliar photo on the dresser, and I moved closer, taking the frame in my hands. It was Uncle Walt and Grant. Both were wearing flannel overshirts and tall boots. They held up a large fish between the two of them and were smiling ear to ear. There were mountains in the background and a small boat close by.
I studied them both. Uncle Walt looked smaller than when I had seen him, or maybe that was just compared to the man beside him. The important part was that he looked happy, even though he’d been sick. Grant must have taken good care of him.
Uncle Walt had always been the outdoorsman type, and Grant was clearly cut from the same cloth. Grant was the less friendly of the two. Then again, no one lived in the mountains becausethey wanted an active social life. Besides, I had barged in on the man during his strange naked coffee ritual—a ritual I was all too eager to learn more about.
My ex, Chad, worked in public administration. The kind of job where he wore a suit and played golf to schmooze with coworkers. He got his hair trimmed every three weeks like clockwork. He knew his way around a wine list and had a favorite resort in Cabo.
Grant, at least from what I could gather from our interaction, was definitely not a Chad. He had too-long stubble marked with the occasional strand of silver. Strong forearms and thick thighs from a hard day’s work.
And that ass.
Shit. I really shouldn’t have been thinking about him like that.
I hadn’t thought much about dating, post-divorce. I had just been happy to survive it. But under other circumstances, if a man that sexy had looked at me with the intensity I’d seen in the kitchen, I would’ve been interested.
He wanted to be annoyed that I was here, but I wasn’t sure I believed it. Not entirely anyway. I was a danger to his claim on this cabin, but he didn’t seem as perturbed by my presence as I would have expected. Maybe he enjoyed the isolation more than he let on. Or maybe he was adjusting to Walt’s death just like I was.
The idea softened something in my chest. Grief didn’t look the same on everyone, but it had a way of making strangers out of people who might have otherwise understood each other.
I wiped my nose on my sleeve and fished my phone from my pocket. I dialed my lawyer’s number and held my breath as it rang.
“You’ve reached Summit Legal Solutions. Business hours areMonday to Friday from eight a.m. to four p.m.”
I hung up before I could hear the rest. It was after four, and it was Friday. I wouldn’t be getting answers today…or tomorrow, or the day after that.
In the meantime, I was trapped in a cabin that felt alive with memories and a man who refused to leave.
I typed out an email with all the details Grant had told me, including the date on the letter, and sent it to my lawyer. That was all I could do for now.
I swept my eyes over the room, letting my gaze linger on every detail. His things were all I had left of him.
And yet, despite everything, I couldn’t ignore the sense of calm that settled over me when I stood in this room. It was comforting. Like coming home to a version of myself I had forgotten existed.
I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath, bracing for the confrontation inevitably waiting outside the door. Grant wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was I. The lawyers would sort out who truly had claim to the cabin, but in the meantime, we were going to have to share this space.
I squared my shoulders and stepped out of Walt’s room, determination flaring. This had been my uncle’s cabin, but it was also my chance to start over, to reclaim a piece of my life I had lost to divorce, grief, and distraction. I might not have been there for him at the end, but I can be here now. I could take care of the place he had loved and honor him that way.
As I walked back toward the living room, I knew one thing with certainty: Grant would not make this easy. But, I would not back down.
The battle over the cabin had only just begun.
Chapter Four
Grant
Icame back from a walk to find Kara standing in the middle of the cabin, hands on her hips like she owned the place—which, technically, she might.
“You’re really going to move all of that in?” I asked, nodding toward her luggage.
“Yes,” she said flatly, lifting a suitcase with surprising ease. “Unless you have a better idea?”
“There’s a great bed-and-breakfast called the Summit House if you turn left off—”
