Feeling new again, I threw on a pair of old jeans and a soft cotton t-shirt that I found in the bureau drawer then padded downstairs barefoot, following the incredible smell of pot roast and cornbread.
“There she is,” Granny said as I walked into the kitchen. “Feel better?”
“So much better,” I said, dropping into my old chair at the kitchen table. “It smells incredible in here.”
“Another few minutes and it’ll be ready,” she said over her shoulder. “Your papaw went out to the barn to tinker with something, and your friend is taking a nap.”
I was about to respond when I noticed a piece of paper sitting on the table in front of me. It looked official.
“What’s this?” I asked, reaching for it.
“Oh, that’s nothing, baby,” Granny said quickly, trying to snatch it out of my hands. “Just some junk mail.”
But I was faster, pulling it back and scanning the contents. My blood ran cold as I read.
Final Notice: Property Acquisition Offer Coastal-Bridge Development Corporation.
The language was barely this side of threatening, talking about “fair market value” and “eminent domain proceedings” and “final opportunity to sell.”
“Granny,” I said slowly, “what the hell is this?”
“It's nothing,” she lied, but I could see the worry lines around her eyes.
“It doesn’t look like nothing.”
“Some company that owns the property on both sides of us,” Papaw’s voice came from the back door as he walked in, wiping his hands on a rag. “They want to buy us out.”
My brows snapped together. This was my great-great-great-grandfather’s property. It’d been in the family for generations. “Please tell me you're not considering this?” I waved the paper in the air.
“Hell no,” Papaw said firmly. “This land has been in our family for generations. They can go to hell.”
“Pete!” Granny gasped. “Don't cuss in the house!”
Despite everything, I had to smile. Some things never changed.
But the smile faded when I saw the worry Granny was trying to hide behind her scolding. This was serious. Someone was trying to pressure my grandparents into selling their home.
Well, they’d picked the wrong family to mess with.
Pulling out my phone, I fired off a quick text to my banker in Nashville.
Me: I need you to acquire the two properties on either side of my grandparents in Odin, Florida, immediately. It’s owned by Coastal-Bridge Development Corporation. I don’t care what kind of favors have to be called in to make it happen. Do whatever it takes. Call me when it’s done.
My phone vibrated almost immediately.
Stewart: Consider it done
“What are you doing, baby girl?” Papaw asked, eyeing my phone.
“Taking care of my family,” I said simply.
“Hattie–” he started, and I knew what he was about to say. Pete Jackson was a proud man. He’d never ask for help. He was the kind of man who figured stuff out on his own.
Well. Not today. I had the means to fix it and I did.
I held up my hand, tears building behind my eyes. “No, Papaw. I know what you’re going to say, but I don’t care. What’s the point in having all that I have, if I can’t take care of the people who took care of me when I needed it most?”
He let out a deep sigh as his eyes closed. “You’re a good one, kiddo. The heart of a lion.”
