“Youcan’ttear it down!” I growled as I pulled the first turkey out of the oven.
Poppy stood stock-still, studying me. “That was a figure of speech. I’m just saying the place needs a lot of work, and I mightnot be up to it. Why do you care what happens to it? It’s not like it’s your property.”
Something tightened in my chest.
“Actually, it is.”
When she stared up at me in confusion I added, “I mean, itwas.”
“You used to own it?”
I nodded almost imperceptibly. “My family did.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t understand. I thought your family was…”
I knew what she hadn’t said. My family was dead.
No one in town knew much about me, but theyallknew my family was dead.
I gripped the wooden butcher block countertop tightly and spoke through gritted teeth. “My mom died in that house. She had a heart attack and died right there in her sewing room. That broke my father. He couldn’t summon up enough energy to take care of himself after that. The bottle got him.”
Poppy’s eyes filled with unspilled tears. “I’m so sorry. That must have been tough.”
She had no idea how tough it had been. Nineteen years old and trying to handle probate courts, missing wills, and relatives that no one knew.
I looked down at the floor. “I lost the house. The courts said it belonged to someone else. A family from Arizona. They showed up with a will that no one had ever seen before. The property got split in two. They got my house and all the acreage. And I got this sliver of land and an old, drafty hunting cabin.”
Her pretty lips parted. “No one told me. I wouldn’t have bought it.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered whether you did or didn’t!” I growled. “Someone else would have come along if you weren’t you. The people who inherited it never spent a single night underthe roof. They cleared almost everything out, then rented it for years to different families. They never did any upkeep on it, and I had to sit here and watch it fade. Then it cycled through a series of owners until you snatched it up.”
Hopkins padded over and leaned against me, a tiny whine coming out of him. He could tell I was upset.
“Why didn’t you ever buy it back?” she asked, all the innocence in the world on her face.
“I don’t have the money for that. All I have is this cabin, my truck, and my dog.”
“But… did you try?”
“My God, woman, do we need to rehash my entire life history here? I was all fucked up when I was young, and I messed up my credit. Had to declare bankruptcy. I was lucky to keep this place. No bank is going to loan me the money to buy my house back.”
Then Poppy did the unthinkable.
She reached out with her soft, delicate hand and took mine, trying to console me. “There has to be a way to fix this. I can’t just give you the house because now I owe sixty thousand dollars on it. But maybe we can figure something out.”
I shrugged my hand away from hers and crossed my arms tightly over my chest. There would be no more hand-holding on my watch.
“There’s no fixing it, Poppy. I just trap for a living and do a stint at the logging camp when my money gets too thin. I’d never be able to pay you for it. The damn house is yours. Not mine.”
Chapter 11
Poppy
Now I understood why Corbin seemed to live in a world of grief. Everything he’d known had been taken away from him at such a young age. And then he’d had no support early in his adult life, right when weallneed the safety net of family.
I decided right then and there to figure out a fix for this.
I’dwantedthat house.
