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“What?” Rafe asked as he removed more papers and handed them over.
Luther went through them all. “The original deed is for forty acres, but the others are for the remaining four hundred acres. A lot of ranchers have had their land re-deeded to put the parcels together, but your uncle didn’t. Maybe he planned to sell off some of the land, or just wanted to leave the option open, and thought this would be easier.” He placed the papers in a neat pile on the table.
More followed, and Luther reviewed each of them, creating two more stacks on the table before he was done. Rafe checked in the box and found no more papers, just cloth bags and stacks of small items. “What’s all that?” Rafe asked, pointing to one pile.
“I need to check on these, but this stack is stock certificates. Most of them are within the past ten years, but some are older. There are Microsoft shares and Oracle. I’m assuming that they haven’t been sold because the certificates are still here. He had other stocks as well—I’ll research those for you too. I’ve made notes, so I have all I need to check everything out. As for this other stack, these are bonds. I’ll have to find out just what they’re worth right now too.” Once again, he started jotting down information. When he was done, Rafe gathered up both stacks of papers, put the rubber bands back over them the way Uncle Mack had had them, and tried not to let himself get too excited about any of it.
Then he pulled out the first of the cloth bags. It was heavy, likereallyheavy. Rafe peeked inside, and his eyes widened at the glint of silver from a lot of old coins. Rafe figured he could look them over later, and checked the other bags. The second one was even heavier and was filled with gold coins. “Damn, this is like a treasure hunt of some kind.” The third and final bag was larger but lighter. At first he thought it was empty, but he pulled out a set of papers. No, not papers. They were letters—three of them. He glanced over them and saw that each one was addressed to Mack.
He opened the first one, read it over, then placed it aside. Then he smiled. Here, at last, was what Rafe had been looking for—a clue about his uncle’s life. Thanks to these letters, he got the impression that his uncle hadn’t always been alone, and that he had been loved, even if for a finite time. He glanced through the other two letters and found more of the same. They weren’t outright love letters, but they were close, even if very carefully written. Once he was done, he folded the letters and put them back into the envelopes.
“More certificates?” Luther asked, but Rafe shook his head, happy with what he’d found. Somehow, his uncle wasn’t so much of a stranger anymore. Then he tied the letters back up in the string and placed them aside to take with him.
The last thing inside the box was an envelope, pressed to the side. It had his name written on it in a slightly shaky hand. He pulled it out, then set everything back inside.
When he opened the envelope, Rafe was hoping for some sort of message from his uncle, but the papers inside just seemed to be an inventory of the items they had found in the box. The three letters were not listed. He showed Luther the note and then returned it to the box and went through the contents once again. “I guess I was hoping for more.”
“More?” Luther asked incredulously. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not more wealth. But I was hoping to find something that would tell me more about my uncle. I mean, he was a saver and managed his money well, it seems, but there’s very little here that tells me about who he was as a person.” Well, except for those letters, of course. But overall, his uncle had left behind a house and a box with things in it—all the trappings of a life—but so far Rafe had found out very little about the man himself. And that was what Rafe wanted most. “I guess I was just looking for some reason why he left everything to me.”
Luther smiled. “I’m sorry I don’t have any answers for you.” Rafe closed the lid on the box and stood, resting his hand on it. Maybe if he stayed there long enough, some vibrations would come through and give him what he wanted. “If you’ve been through the whole house, then….”
Rafe winced. “I haven’t been through Uncle Mack’s room. It sort of feels like I’m intruding.” But that was likely the only place he’d find the answers he looked for. His uncle was a bit of a mystery, that was for damned sure.
“He’s gone, and the house is yours.” Luther got up and stood across the table from him. “You don’t need to eradicate Mack from the house, but it’s okay for you to change things so that it feels like your home now. That is, if you intend to stay.”
“I do,” Rafe said. “I want put down roots. But it’s like I just stepped into someone else’s life, and I can’t figure shit out. Uncle Mack was a rancher, and yet he had stocks, bonds, and bags of silver and gold. God only knows how much all that is worth. And then there’s the ranch itself, without a mortgage as far as we can tell. I mean, it’s a huge amount of money. There was no way he’d have put all that together by simply raising a few hundred head of cattle over the years.” What he’d found raised more questions than answers.
Luther shrugged. “Your uncle didn’t go into detail about what he had. He kept his business private, at least from me.” He packed his notes in his case and locked it, then called for Stacey. A few minutes later, Rafe had slid the box back into its place, the door closed and locked once more.
“Thank you for coming,” Rafe told Luther.
“I’ll be in touch just as soon as I find anything out,” Luther said. “It won’t take long.”
Rafe headed back toward his truck, his mind racing. He had more questions rattling around in his head now than he’d had when he came in. The box had told him little about the man his uncle was. But those lettershadtold him something. And now, Rafe just had to find out what.
“I’M GOINGout, so don’t rub against me, okay?” Rafe told the dogs, who promptly ignored him. He had finished his chores and taken a shower, then put on his best jeans and shirt. He had thought of dressing up, but Russell seemed like a cowboy—even if he was a posh one. So he figured it was better to just be himself. Still, he didn’t want to arrive covered in dog hair.
Over the past few days, he’d made some progress in going through the house, but he still hadn’t had the heart to tackle his uncle’s room. He’d found a few notes and a stack of comics in one of the desk drawers that made him laugh. It seemed Uncle Mack was a fan ofThe Far Side, just as he was. There had been hundreds of comics clipped out and piled in the drawer. Just the sight of them had made Rafe smile, so he’d left them there… for now. He knew he’d eventually have to clear out his uncle’s things, but there was no rush. Rafe wasn’t ready to remove all his uncle’s belongings from the house. After all, he wanted to somehow find his uncle, not wipe him away.
Rafe checked the time and made sure the dogs had water before heading out to Russell’s.
Rafe wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when he first set eyes on the Banion place, but it sure as hell hadn’t been this. The house was huge. On one level, it was impressive as hell, but it also fit into the landscape, as if the builder had wanted it to blend in rather than be ostentatious. Rafe had never seen anything like it.
He rang the bell and was surprised when Russell answered the door himself. With a place so big, he’d have expected Russell and his dad to have people who did that sort of thing.
“Come on in. Dad is just mixing up martinis. But if you’d rather have beer or something else, we have it.” Russell shut the door behind him, and Rafe couldn’t help noticing that Russell seemed a bit nervous. That was surprising—Russell didn’t seem the type.
“A martini sounds good,” Rafe said.
They walked into a great room, where Russell’s dad was seated. Feeling a little ill at ease himself, Rafe was grateful when he was handed a glass. The drink might calm his nerves.
“Dad, this is Rafe, our new neighbor.”
The older man held out his hand. “Elliott Banion. It’s good to meet you, Rafe. Russell has told me some about you.” He gestured for Rafe to take a seat, and Rafe made sure he didn’t spill his drink as he took it. “Are you getting settled in?”
“As much as I can, I guess. The house isn’t mine. Well, I suppose it is, but it’s still Uncle Mack’s, really.” He sipped the drink, the gin going down smooth. “Did you know him well?”
