by Jaclyn Hardy
He set the statements aside and opened another desk drawer. Mom hadn’t wanted to touch the office, which left Patrick to clean out everything. The house was too big for her to live in on her own, so they’d decided to sell it and find her a nice condo.
More bills, statements, and photos. Patrick sorted them into piles until he came to an old envelope that was still sealed. It had been addressed to his grandpa. Patrick frowned and reached for the letter opener.
Inside was a deed, but Patrick had never heard of his father owning any houses in Idaho. He pushed away from the desk and left the room, making sure the door was closed. He smiled to himself as he thought of how many times his dad had gotten after him for leaving it open. Now it was just a habit to close it.
“Hey, Mom?” He found her in the kitchen making cookies. “Oh, those smell amazing.”
Mom swatted Patrick’s hand away. “Dinner is almost ready. You’ll ruin your appetite.”
Patrick chuckled. “Not likely.”
“Almost done in the office?” Mom slid a pan in the oven and set the timer.
“Dad had a lot more files than we thought.” Patrick held up the deed. “Do you know what this is?”
Mom washed her hands and made sure they were dry before she took it from him. She frowned as she studied it. “Where did you get this?”
“It was with some pictures in a file. The envelope was sealed.” Patrick leaned against the counter and grabbed a cookie while his mom was distracted.
“Your dad’s family left that area decades ago. One of them must have passed this house down to him, but he never claimed it.” Mom sat at the computer and typed in the address listed on the deed. A few listings popped up, and she clicked on one.
A large mansion appeared on the screen. The photo was in black and white, with the inscription As it appeared in 1920 below it. Mom scrolled down to find a more recent photo. It was clear by its dilapidated condition that no one had cared for the structure in a long time. There were petitions in the listing to tear the place down, but as far as they could tell, the old mansion still stood.
“It looks like you gained a mansion on top of the money your dad left you.” Mom copied the link and sent it to Patrick in an email.
“Think it’s still there?”
She scrolled up again. “It was just updated a few months ago. I’d be surprised if it’s gone.”
Patrick folded up the deed and put it back in the envelope. The best way to figure out what to do with it would be to see it in person. It was possible that the house needed to be torn down, but if it was nice enough, maybe they could expand the business like the board had talked about before. Idaho’s property taxes had to be a fraction of the cost they were paying in California. It was worth checking out. He’d need to book a flight and get a place to stay. “Want to come and check it out with me?”
“No. I think I’ll stick around here. I have more packing to do, and still need to find another place to live.” Mom stood. “I’d better check on the cookies. The timer should be going off any second.”
“Sounds good. I’ll head back into the den and keep going through Dad’s stuff.” Patrick stared down at the envelope. He needed to help his mom finish packing first, and then he’d take some time for himself.
Patrick shut the trunk of the taxi and wiped his hands. “Looks like that’s it. You’re sure you’ll be okay?”
Mom hugged him tightly. “Go. Enjoy yourself. There’s plenty I can do at the center while you’re gone.”
“I’m so glad we got you in there.” He kissed his mom’s cheek. They’d found a perfect senior community where she could stay active and have her own place. “I’ll be back in a few days.”
Patrick climbed into the taxi and headed for LAX. His partners had pretty much pushed him out the door and told him to take a month off to recover, and he looked forward to the break. Traffic was lighter so early in the morning, and he arrived earlier than he’d expected. He paid the driver and climbed out to get his bags.
After going through security, he went to find himself some breakfast. Even though he was taking a break from work, he still had a few accounts to go over. The two hours before his flight were perfect for getting that done, so the hour-and-a-half flight to Boise was spent reading the information he’d been able to find on the small town. Not that there was much, but he wanted to know what he was getting into before he arrived.
Patrick walked out of the airport and put his luggage into his rental car. Boise was much smaller than Los Angeles, and while traffic was heavy because of rush hour, it was nothing compared to what he dealt with in California. City gave way to wide-open valleys, lush with wheat and other crops. The two-hour trip flew by as he took in the view.
The smell of pine and wheat drifted through the window as Patrick drove to the small town of Cottonwood Creek. It consisted of only a few streets of businesses, and it was fully decorated for the Fourth of July. The address for the house wasn’t showing up on his GPS, which wasn’t too surprising in a place this small.
He pulled into a parking spot by the post office and climbed out of his rental car. A few people stopped what they were doing and stared as he walked past, and he nodded to them before entering the post office. Apparently, they weren’t used to visitors.
An older woman sat at the desk reading a book and glanced up when Patrick stopped in front of her. She gave him a once-over before setting a bookmark in her place. “What can I do for you?”
“Hi. I’m here to look at a house, but I can’t find it on my app.” He handed her a paper with the address.
She glanced at the paper, then back up at him. “What do you want with that house?”
Patrick wasn’t expecting that kind of response. “It’s been in my family for decades, apparently, and I want to check it out before I decide what to do with it.”
This time, it was the woman’s turn to be surprised. “You’re a Jenkins?”
“Yes. Why?”
She leaned forward. “They haven’t been here for years. Why are you here now?”
“My dad passed away, and I just found the deed in his files.” Patrick took the address from her and folded it up. “But if you don’t have the time to help me, I’ll figure it out myself.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you. I just wondered why it took so long for someone to come and claim the house.” The woman pulled out a map. “You’ll go twenty minutes out of town and take a left here. There are no other houses in the immediate area, so it won’t be hard to find.”
Patrick took a picture of the map with his phone. “Thank you.”
“Careful out there. The house could be full of rattlers, for all we know. There hasn’t been anyone out there for years.” She stared up at him, as though challenging him.
“Thanks.” He turned and left the post office. Rain clouds piled high in the southern hills. If he was going to see the house, he’d better hurry. Finding a hotel could wait until later. It would be better to see it in the daylight if the house was as worn down as the woman wanted him to think. With another nod to the people staring at him, Patrick climbed in his car and headed out of town. It was time to get this over with.
Rachel slammed on her brakes just outside the mansion. There was a car here. At her mansion. Panic, anger, and curiosity ran through her as she pulled forward next to the car and climbed out. If they found her money . . . but no. She’d hidden it too well. What bothered her was the fact that someone was here at all. The rumbling of thunder in the distance matched her mood as she stomped up the walkway.
Just before she reached the front steps, Rachel realized she probably should have brought some kind of weapon. She paused, looking back at her truck. She had a crowbar in the back. No. That was crazy. She grabbed a tree branch off the ground and crept slowly toward the door.
The main hallway was empty, along with the first two rooms. Rachel stood still, listening for any sounds of movement.
There.
Whoever it was had go
ne upstairs. She took the steps two at a time, careful to avoid the parts that squeaked the loudest. Rustling came from the room just ahead of her. The library. Rachel narrowed her eyes and moved forward. She held the branch up and pushed the door open.
A guy about Rachel’s age stood in the bay window holding one of her books. His blond hair looked bleached from the sun, and that dimple in his chin . . . . Rachel took a step forward to get a better look at him and accidentally tripped on a rug. The guy’s head jerked up, and his eyes widened.
“What are you doing here?” they asked in unison.
Rachel raised the branch higher. “Get your hands off my book. You shouldn’t be here.”
The man snorted. “I could say the same thing about you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rachel asked.
“It means this is my house. Which also means that you’re the one who’s trespassing.” His eyes flashed.
Rachel couldn’t speak. All the air seemed to have left her lungs. His house? It was supposed to be hers. The money in the jar downstairs was proof of that. “How?”
He pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. Rachel opened it and took out a deed. A very old deed, but there it was. She stumbled over to a chair and dropped into it.
“Hey, are you okay?” He crouched down in front of her. “Do you need some water or something?”
Rachel could only stare at those blue eyes searching hers. Words. There had to be words in her head somewhere. Finally, she just nodded and breathed a sigh of relief when he left the room. She laid her head on her arms, taking deep breaths.
It must be some kind of mistake. Maybe there was a statute of limitations for the deed so he couldn’t claim it. But was that even possible? Probably not.
Rachel stood and paced back and forth. This guy obviously didn’t care about the place if he hadn’t bothered to show up until now. Maybe she could convince him to leave it.
The door slammed downstairs, and she heard him running back up. He came into the room holding a bottled water. “Here. I hope it’s cold enough.”
“Thanks.” Rachel opened it and took a long drink, trying to figure out what to say next.
“Feeling better?”
She nodded, wishing he wouldn’t send her into a mess of emotions with a simple smile.
He gestured toward the bookshelf. “So, you come here often?”
“Yes.” Guilt battled with annoyance. Why did he care?
“You couldn’t just read at your own house?” His perfect lips curved up at the corners in an amused smile.
“No. I mean, I could. But it’s not the same.”
The man stuck out his hand. “I’m Patrick, by the way. And you are?”
“Rachel.” She allowed him to shake her hand and then jerked back at the spark of electricity between them. By the way his eyes widened, she knew he felt it too. “So, you never answered me. Why are you here? Why now?”
“I just learned about this place a few days ago. I was going through my dad’s stuff.” He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. “I found this deed and figured I’d see if there was anything I could do with the house, or if I should just sell it.”
“And?” A small glimmer of hope fluttered in her chest. Please decide to sell it.
He shrugged. “It needs a lot of work, but I think I could make something out of it. I’d hoped I could use it for my business. With the size, it could work.”
“Oh.” Rachel frowned and turned away. Just like that, the hope died. All those years of saving money, and this mansion wouldn’t be hers after all. Maybe she should have listened to Mama when she said it was foolish. But no. This town needed a place for guests to stay, and she wanted to be the one to provide it. She would just have to figure out another option for her hotel. “I’d better get going. It’s nice to meet you, Patrick.”
“Wait.” He held out a hand. “You don’t have to leave.”
She looked up at him. “I need to get back to the farm. Mama will be wondering where I’ve been. Thanks for the water. I’ll come and get my books and stuff later.”
“Before you go, I could use some help finding a hotel. Do you know of a good one near here?”
Rachel smirked. This proved her point. “Nearest hotel is an hour away.”
“Oh. I guess I’d better head out, then.” Patrick grabbed his bag and hat. “Could you point me in the right direction?”
“Sure.” She picked up a couple of her books and went downstairs. She glanced toward the room where her money was hidden, but she didn’t want to get it while he was here.
Lightning flashed, followed by a loud crash of thunder. Rain came down in sheets. Rachel turned to Patrick. The storm had come quicker than she’d expected. “You don’t want to be traveling in this. Come with me to my house and you can find a hotel tomorrow.”
Patrick frowned. “Are you sure? I don’t want to put your family out.”
“I’m not that far away. Besides, we have to feed the ranch hands, so one more person won’t matter.” Rachel made sure the door was shut and locked.
“Okay.” They ran out to their cars. Patrick reached for his car door, but Rachel grabbed his arm.
“You don’t want to be in a small car in a storm like this. Grab your stuff, and you can come in my truck.” Rachel couldn’t believe she was giving a stranger a ride, but Mama would have her hide if she let Patrick drive through the downpour.
There was only a moment’s hesitation before Patrick grabbed his bag and climbed inside the truck. “My car will be safe here? I paid a pretty penny for this rental.”
“No one comes out this way. It’ll be fine.” Rachel started the truck and blasted the heat so they could dry out. She squeezed the water out of her hair onto the floor of her truck, then pulled out of the driveway.
The washboards in the road were filled with water, making them slick as they headed for the main road. She glanced over to find Patrick staring out at the storm.
“So where are you from, Patrick?” She steered around a large pothole.
“Southern California.” He put his hands in front of the heater. “Do you get storms like this often?”
Rachel nodded. “Around this time of year, yes. They never last long, though.”
Lightning flashed all around them as Rachel watched the road in front of her. It took a little longer to get home than usual, and it was after dark by the time she pulled into the driveway.
“This is where you live?” Patrick stared out at the ranch house in front of them.
“Yep. Now, be ready to run. Watch your footing. It could be slippery.” Rachel grabbed the door handle. “One, two, three, go!”
They opened their doors and jumped out, running for the house. Rachel knew where to step as she ran, but Patrick wasn’t quite so lucky. He slid on the stone pathway and went down. Rachel grabbed his bag and helped him up.
By the time they got to the house, both of them were soaked, and Rachel was pretty sure everything in his bag would be soaked as well. She couldn’t help laughing as they went inside and stood dripping on the rug.
Mama’s voice came from the kitchen. “Is that you, Rachel? Your dad will be in with the rest of the crew any minute. I could use some help in here.”
“It’s me, Mama. We just need to change, and then we can help.” Rachel gestured for Patrick to follow her.
“We? Who is ‘we’?”
But Rachel was already upstairs with Patrick in tow. She opened the door to one of the guest rooms. “You can change in here. Make sure you lay everything in your bag out to dry. I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen when you’re done.”
Patrick nodded. “Thank you.”
Rachel smiled and hurried to her room. She closed the door and leaned against it. She’d just let a complete stranger into her house: a stranger who owned the one thing on this earth that she wanted. Unless she could think of a way to make him change his mind. She had to, if she wanted her dream to happen.
Sh
e slipped into a pair of sweats and braided her hair to keep it out of her face. The thought of adding a little makeup crossed her mind, but she pushed it away. It was late, and she didn’t want to impress Patrick anyway. The sooner she could get him to leave, the better.
Mama was still in the kitchen when Rachel got downstairs. She threw an apron at Rachel. “The rolls just finished baking. Can you put them in a bowl? The butter is already on the table.”
“Okay.” Rachel took out a few bowls and slid the rolls off the pan, then took them to the dining room. When she turned to get more, Patrick stood in the doorway of the kitchen, looking rather uncomfortable. “Oh, hey. Dinner will be ready soon.”
“Sounds good. Need any help?” He followed her into the kitchen. “Whoa. Are you feeding an army?”
“I guess you could say that. We feed all the ranch hands.” Rachel picked up another bowl and filled it.
Mama wiped her hands and glanced between Rachel and Patrick. “Who’s this?”
“This is Patrick. He’s visiting the area.” And hopefully he’d be leaving soon. Rachel handed the bowl to him. “Take that in the dining room, would you?”
“Sure.” Patrick left, and Rachel turned to find Mama staring at her.
“What?”
Mama shook her head. “Nothin’.”
“Mama.” Rachel raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“You just haven’t brought a boy home for a while, is all.” Mama lifted a large pot of stew. “Help me with these, please?”
Rachel sighed and followed Mama into the dining room. She was never going to live this down. That’s what she got for being helpful. She had to duck around Patrick as she entered the dining room.
“You should have let me take that one.” Patrick held out his hands to take the pot from Mama.
