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I almost cringed, worrying what he would do when he saw the documents.
“At least you don’t have Martin Sands to bother you anymore,” my dad said. “He’ll go away for life.”
Amy and Beau burst through the door.
“Oh my God, Pepper, are you all right?” Amy cried out, rushing over to hug me.
I assured her I was, returning the hug.
She stepped away from me, wiping at her wet cheeks. “Beau called me from the police station when your dad and Ian rushed off. There was no way I was waiting around for a phone call to see what happened.”
“Mo saved her,” Josh said like a proud parent.
Amy smiled. “Geronimo.”
“Why does she know that, and I don’t?” my dad asked.
“You wouldn’t have believed me,” I said.
Josh laughed. “Pepper got you on that one, Dad.”
“Pepper! Pepper!” My mom rushed through the door that continued to remain open.
My dad hurried to her. “She’s good, Sally. She’s good. Our daughter wasn’t harmed.”
They both hugged and I realized the fright they had suffered when I saw the relief in both their faces and the way they clung tight to each other. It made me want to promise myself that I would never frighten them like that again. But knowing me, that was a promise I probably wouldn’t be able to keep.
My dad returned to the island with my mom and stood behind her when she sat beside me, keeping a hand on her shoulder. Amy sat next to my mom and Beau kept close to her side.
I patted the stool beside me and smiled at Ian. “You better sit.”
Ian’s brow went up and he left Josh to finish getting the drinks.
I tapped the file on the counter. “I found the documents.”
“Well, Ian, it looks like you’re going to have to alter your building plans,” my dad said.
My mom’s eye grew teary. “Oh, Aunt Effie did leave a provision in the sale to Max for a preserve.”
“Not exactly,” I said, my heart starting to pick up its tempo.
“Then what are you saying, Pepper?” my mom asked.
I hesitated. What I was about to reveal could change everything between me and Ian.
“What is it, Pep?” Ian asked, taking my hand.
My heart pounded in my chest. “Aunt Effie never sold the land to Max. She leased it to him with the provision that upon his death the lease was void and the property returned to her or if she preceded him in death then it went to her heir.”
“Max never owned the land?” my dad asked and shook his head. “But he built the lodge on it.”
“Aunt Effie built the lodge, and she actually was the one who made the decisions on it through the years. It’s all detailed in the documents. Aunt Effie even had amendments made to the lease throughout the years.”
“Oh dear,” my mom said, realizing what it all meant. “Effie told me shortly after you were born that she was making you her heir. That you would inherit all she owned. That means you own Willow Lake lodge.”
31
I stood outside the lodge in the shadows. It was bursting with people in costumes enjoying themselves; drinking, eating, dancing. I was nervous about entering and had arrived late on purpose. It had been a challenging time leading up to the Halloween party.
Ian had been cordial about the news of him not owning Willow Lake Lodge, but he had made it clear that he was going to have his lawyers look into it. He hired some high-powered attorney, leaving me no choice but to do the same.
In the end, there was no mistake about it, Willow Lake Lodge and all the property belonged to me. The last amendment to the lease had been made when I turned fifteen, and Aunt Effie had tucked all the information away in her armoire. It had been my own fault for not going through it when I had inherited her cabin. It didn’t take long to validate the lease papers and with her will specifically outlining everything she owned went to me—that made Willow Lake Lodge mine.
My attorney had advised me that Ian’s attorney would no doubt advise him to file to regain any money he had put into the lodge, which I discovered was quite a bit, including the taxes he had paid on it since he had taken ownership. The taxes had been paid through his business. Ian had gone to Scotland for a few days to speak with his father, who I didn’t know was a lawyer. My lawyer told me not to worry about it. The property was here, and the documents filed here. Max had simply provided his attorney with information in case his death should take place in Scotland. How the key to the armoire got there was anyone’s guess? I hoped as I continued to read Aunt Effie’s love letters, I would discover the answer.
