Chapter 4
Troy
The Carter place sits exactly where I remember it. Halfway up the ridge, tucked between a stand of old spruce and a slope that catches the afternoon sun. Good land. Neglected, but good.
Rainey pulls her SUV to a stop beside the cabin and kills the engine like she’s bracing for impact. I step out of my truck and take a slow look around.
Overgrown weeds. Untended grass. A couple of shallow runoff channels cutting through the yard. But the soil color is right. Dark under the surface. Healthy, if someone’s willing to do the work.
My eyes move up to the cabin. And immediately land on the gutters. She wasn’t exaggerating.
One section is hanging crooked, like it’s lost the will to live. Another stretch is missing entirely. The downspout on the farcorner is gone, which explains the trench carved into the dirt below it.
Rainey climbs out of her vehicle and watches my face carefully. She’s wearing jeans that hug in a way that makes it harder than it should be to focus on the gutters.
“So,” she says, folding her arms. “On a scale from one to ‘you bought a disaster,’ how bad is it?”
I walk closer to the cabin.
“Not a disaster.”
She exhales loudly behind me.
“Thank God.”
“Yet.”
Her relief evaporates.
“Gutters need replacing,” I say. “Downspout too.”
She nods quickly like she expected that.
“What about the roof?”
I step back to get a better view. The shingles are older but not terrible. The edges show some curling, but nothing catastrophic yet.
“Could be worse,” I say. I tilt my head, checking the lines. “Seems to be one layer of shingles.”
“That’s… good?”
“Yes.”
I glance back at her.
“Means you could possibly add another layer instead of tearing the whole thing off.”
Her face lights up.
“See? This is why I invited you here.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“You invited me?”
She gestures vaguely between us.
“You suggested lunch. I accepted. That’s basically an invitation.”
