Once inside Granger House, Carly went straight to her bedroom, opened the small safe she kept tucked in the corner and pulled out the large manila envelope. Let Andrew argue with this.
Leaving her bat in her kitchen for fear she might actually be tempted to use it, she again made her way next door, irritation nipping at her heels. She would not let Andrew stand between her and her dream.
When she entered this time, he was in the kitchen, arms crossed, leaning against the peninsula that separated the eating space from the food-prep space, looking better than an ex-boyfriend should.
She removed the papers from the envelope and handed them to him. “Page three, last paragraph.”
She watched as he read, noting the lines carved deeply into his brow. So serious. Intense. And while he had never been the carefree type, it appeared the big city might have robbed him of whatever joy remained.
When he glanced her way, she quickly lowered her gaze. Just because she hadn’t seen him in forever didn’t give her the right to stare. No matter how intriguing the sight.
“I don’t get it.” He flipped back to the front page. “This will was drawn up only a year and a half ago.” He looked at her now. “The one I have is at least five years old. Meaning this—” he wiggled the papers—“supersedes that.”
Carly rested her backside against the wood veneer table, her fingers gripping the edge. “So, are you saying you didn’t receive a letter from your grandmother’s lawyer?”
He shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
This was her chance to make her move. Before she chickened out. “I’m sorry to hear that. However—” she shoved away from the table “—we can take care of this quite easily.” She lifted her chin. “I’d like to buy out your half. I’ve been looking for a way to expand my bed-and-breakfast, and this house is the perfect solution. Besides, you’re never in Ouray—”
“I love this house. Always have. You know that.”
While she knew that Andrew the boy had loved the house, she could count the times Andrew the man had set foot in Ouray since moving to Denver right after graduation. A move that was supposed to be the beginning of their future together. Instead, it had torn them apart.
Refusing to let the painful memories get the best of her, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Until today, when was the last time you were in this house?”
“After my grandmother’s funeral.”
“And the time before that?” She awaited a response.
After a long moment, he shoved the papers back at her. “This house has been in my family for four generations. And I’m not about to let that change anytime soon. Even for you.”
* * *
Andrew hadn’t been this bowled over since Crawford Construction, one of Denver’s largest commercial builders, offered to buy out his company, Pinnacle Construction. Even then, he hadn’t been totally unaware. He’d heard rumors. But this revelation about his grandmother’s house took him completely by surprise.
There was no way he was going to sell Carly half of the house that rightfully belonged to him. There had to be some mistake. He hadn’t even been notified of the change to Grandma’s will.
Watching out the kitchen window as Carly made her way back to Granger House, her blond curls bouncing with each determined step, he could think of only two explanations. His grandmother was crazy, or Carly had somehow coerced her into changing her will, giving his high school sweetheart half of the house that had been promised to him from the time he was a boy.
He continued his scrutiny, chuckling at the memory of Carly holding that baseball bat. Coming into the house, not knowing who was inside, took a lot of guts. Apparently the shy girl he’d once known no longer existed. Then again, that was a long time ago. She’d since become a wife, a mother, a widow... Not to mention one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.
Shaking off the unwanted observation, he waited for her to disappear inside her house before digging the keys out of his jeans pocket and heading out the door. He had to get to the bottom of this and fast. For months, he’d been looking forward to updating this old home to use as a rental property. Now, as he awaited the closing on his next business venture, he had eight weeks to do just that.
He climbed into his truck and fired up the diesel engine, daring a glance toward Granger House. With its sea foam green paint, intricate millwork and expansive front porch, the historic Victorian home looked much the way it would have when it was first built nearly one hundred twenty years ago. Today’s guests must feel as though they’re stepping back in time.
His gaze drifted to the swing at the far end of the porch. Back when he and Carly were dating, they spent many an evening there, holding hands, talking about their plans for the future. Plans he once thought would include her.
But that was then. This was now.
He threw the truck into gear and set off for his grandmother’s lawyer’s office, only to discover the man was out of town for the week. Frustration burrowed deeper. He didn’t know what to do. Perhaps his father would have some insight.
Andrew’s shoulders slumped. Seeing his father meant a trip to the ranch. Something he hadn’t planned to do just yet.
If he wanted answers, though, it was his only option.
He maneuvered his truck onto Main Street, past the rows of colorful historic buildings, to continue north of town, beyond the walls of red sandstone, on to the open range. A few minutes later, he passed under the arched metal sign that read Abundant Blessings Ranch. Why his parents had named the place that, he’d never understand. Their lives were far from blessed, working their fingers to the bone with little to nothing to show for it.
He’d never live like that again.
Bumping up the gravel drive, he eyed the snow-capped mountains that stretched across the far edge of the property, beyond the river where they used to fish and swim.
A couple of horses watched him from the corral as he passed the stable. Red with white trim, it was the newest building on Stephens’ land. Apparently the trail rides his father and oldest brother Noah offered during the summer months had been successful. That, in addition to the riding lessons Noah taught, had likely funded the structure.
The old barn, however, was another story. Closer to the house, the rustic wooden outbuilding had seen better days. The roof sagged, the pens on the outside were missing most of their slats and the ancient shingles were in sore need of replacing. Better yet, someone should just bulldoze the thing and start fresh.
A task he could easily take care of once they were well into spring. But he’d be back in Denver by then, the proud owner of Magnum Custom Home Builders.
He pulled alongside his father’s beat-up dually, killed the engine and stepped outside to survey the single-story ranch house.
Though the sun was warm, a chill sifted through him. He wouldn’t have believed it possible, but the place looked even worse than it had six months ago when he was here for his grandmother’s funeral. The cedar siding was the darkest he’d ever seen it. The house, along with the large wooden deck that swept across one side, could use a good power-washing. Not that Dad, Noah or his younger brother, Jude, had the time. Before the cancer took its toll, the house had always been Mama’s domain. And with five sons eager to please her, she was never at a loss for help.
The back door opened then, and Clint Stephens stepped outside, clad in his usual Wrangler jeans and chambray work shirt. “I thought I heard an engine out here.” Smiling, his father started toward the three short steps separating him from Andrew, the heels of