Slow Hand (17 page)

Chapter 16

“Me?” Nikki gasped. “How? I don't understand.”

Wade turned to face her, his eyes sober, his expression stern. “Pursuant to the execution of Raymond Powell's will, you, Nicole Marie Powell, are the sole owner of over twelve hundred prime acres in Madison County, Montana.”

“This was my father's place?” Nikki was at first stunned, then fury set in. “Damn you, Wade! You knew all this time and said nothing?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I didn't know
all
of it until this morning when I reviewed the will. The property is yours free and clear, by the way. I pulled all the real estate records and checked for liens.”

“You've let me fret and worry for days!” she accused. “Why didn't you tell me any of this before?”

“I couldn't. I swear my hands were tied. Legally, you had no claim to any of it until you could prove your identity, and now you have.”

Nikki was still shaking her head in disbelief when Wade came around to open her door. She hopped down from the SUV and Wade followed, retrieving a thick envelope from his breast pocket. He pulled out a bundle of documents from inside. “According to the plat, there's two full sections here.”

“Sections? What's a section?”

“In farming communities land is generally parceled in sections and quarter sections. A section is a square mile.”

Nikki stared dumbfounded over the river, the grassland, and the mountains. “You're saying I own
two
square
miles
of this? How on earth did my father come by all this land? He was a heavy equipment mechanic, for goodness' sake! You are really telling me that he owned this cabin and
twelve
hundred
acres
?”

“Yup. According to Evans, who closed the deals, your father fell in love with the fishing here twenty years ago and bought the first quarter section when land was still cheap as dirt. He added to the property over time when his investments started to pay off.”

“What's the place worth?” she asked.

Wade pursed his mouth and dug his boot heel into the dirt. “Can't really say.”

“Surely you have
some
idea,” she insisted.

“Real estate's taken a nosedive in the past few years, but my best guess would be about fifteen hundred per acre for the grasslands, plus the cabin.”

Nikki's performed mental calculations that made her heart race. “That's got be close to two million dollars!”

“More than that, sweetheart. The waterfront is worth a lot more than the grazing lands. Allie could tell you more precisely about the entire value. She specializes in large acreage and high-end ranch properties. There's something else,” he said. “Your father also left behind a substantial sum in bonds and annuities.”

“Wh-what do you mean substantial?”

“Close to a quarter million. Your father was either an incredibly savvy investor, or a damned lucky bastard. He bought several thousand dollars of cheap tech stocks in the late eighties—including shares in Dell Computer and Microsoft—that paid off big-time.”

“Oh. My. God.” Nikki's legs gave way beneath her. She sank to the ground, gaping up at Wade. “I can't believe all this. It's all too much to process.”

He squatted down with a grin. “Kinda puts matters in a different light, don't you think? Now you can tell your be-atch of a boss to kiss your sweet, rosy-red ass.”

Nikki stared at the cabin shaking her head in disbelief. “This is really all mine?”

“Yes, Nikki.” Wade pulled her back to her feet and then produced a key. “I have his will in my hands. We still need to go through the formalities. Do you want to step inside for that?”

“I don't know,” she murmured. “It doesn't seem right somehow.”

“You shouldn't feel that way,” Wade said.

When he unlocked the door and Nikki stepped over the threshold, she wished she had taken some time to prepare herself. The cabin was a distinctly a male domain with a bearskin rug in front of the big stone fireplace that dominated the great room. A number of mounted animal heads—elk, mountain sheep, and even a bison hung on the walls. She noted the hunting rifles and fishing poles and the copies of fishing and hunting magazines scattered about the room. Her gaze lit on a pair of reading glasses sitting beside a half pack of Marlboro red cigarettes, on the side table by an overstuffed leather recliner. “I remember so little about him. I feel like an intruder.” She stroked her fingers over the glasses, suddenly struck by the loss of the daddy she never knew.

“You're his daughter. Just because you didn't see each other for a long time, doesn't mean he forgot that fact. Wanna sit down now, Nikki? I need to go through the legalities of your inheritance. It'll only take a few minutes.” He handed her a copy.

“All right. But I'm not very fluent in legalese. No doubt you'll need to interpret it all for me.”

“I doubt that. It's a very simple will.” Wade opened the enveloped he'd carried inside, reading aloud, “I, Raymond Albert Powell, of Twin Bridges, Montana, revoke all former wills and codicils and declare this to be my Last Will and Testament. I am not currently married. The name of my only child is Nicole Marie Powell. All references in this Will to my ‘children' are references to the above-named child. I direct that all my debts and funeral expenses be paid from my estate. I direct that my residuary estate be distributed to Nicole Marie Powell of Decatur, Georgia…”

Nikki stood abruptly, blinking against the burning sensation in her eyes. “He tried to make things right between us, but I wouldn't let him.”

Wade stopped reading. “It's not your fault, Nikki. You were only a child.”

“Not when I got the letter,” she argued. “I told you he sent me one. It arrived eighteen months ago but I never read it…well, not until it was too late. I shoved it in a desk drawer and ignored it. I didn't want to read it, but I couldn't bring myself to destroy it either. Then when I got the phone call from the hospital telling me Daddy had died, I finally opened it.”

“What did he say?”

“That he was sorry and that he'd always loved me. He said he couldn't have raised me because he was on the road all the time. He admitted he drank too much and thought I was better off with my mom. He swore he sent me letters and cards for years, but they all came back as return to sender. I never knew anything about them.”

She swallowed down the lump in her throat and covertly wiped her leaky eyes on her sleeve. “My mother had no right to do that to me—to let me believe a lie. My father and I were estranged for twenty years because of it. I always thought he was a no-account loser like all the rest of them, but that wasn't exactly true. Maybe he wasn't the best man in the world, and he certainly wasn't the ideal father, but he was the only one I had. I feel cheated, Wade. The whole damned thing just makes me feel so sad and angry…and empty.”

“So it was his letter that brought you up here?”

“Yeah. I came hoping to find a way to deal with it all. I thought maybe I could lay all the hurt to rest along with him.”

“It hardly seems that he blamed you, given he left everything he owned to you. Shall I continue?”

She nodded.

“I nominate Nicole Marie Powell, of Decatur, Georgia, as the executor without bond or security. My executor shall have the right to administer my estate without unnecessary intervention by the probate court…”

As Wade read through the articles of the will, Nikki wandered the rest of the great room. The television was the old tube-style. Beside it was a rack of VHS tapes. She couldn't remember the last time she'd even seen a VCR and tapes. She squatted down to the case wondering what he liked to watch.
Deliverance
and
A
River
Runs
Through
It
held places of honor on the top shelf. Beside these were a number of John Wayne and Clint Eastwood movies and then there was another well-worn case—
They
Call
Me
Trinity
.

She pulled that one loose and almost choked on the vivid memory of eating Jiffy Pop and watching old spaghetti Westerns with him. He'd loved both. So had she. “I didn't even know him,” Nikki interrupted. “How can this all be mine? Somehow, it just doesn't seem right.”

“You don't have to accept the bequest if you don't want it,” Wade said. “You could always donate it to some worthy charity—maybe even start one of your own.” One corner of his mouth kicked up. “How about a foundation to save the pronghorn antelope?”

“Are they endangered?” She gave him a dubious look.

“No. Not yet, but you could be proactive.”

His levity did the trick. Nikki couldn't help grinning back. He always seemed to know just what she needed. She loved that about him—how easily he read and understood her. “I admit I feel guilty about the inheritance,” she said. “But I'm not crazy. Of course I want it. I just have to get used to the whole idea.”

“Yeah, you do have a lot to think about. Let me finish up the rest of this with you.”

“How much more is there?” she asked.

“Only another two pages,” he said. “Mostly legal jargon that protects you from liability.”

“Go ahead.” She nodded, only half listening until he got to the end.

“I, Raymond Albert Powell, the Testator, sign my name to this instrument this 5th day of June 2008, and do thereby execute it as my free and voluntary act for the purposes expressed in this Will, and that I am of sound mind and under no constraint or undue influence.” Wade looked up. “It was witnessed and filed by Jack Evans. Everything's in perfect order, Nikki. Will you be changing your travel plans now?”

“Is this my
lawyer
asking?”

“No.” He came behind, wrapping his big arms around her. “I checked
that
hat at the door.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled him. God, it felt so damned good to be wrapped in Wade. She let her head drop back against the warm and solid wall of his chest. She wished the feeling could last forever, but knew it couldn't. His life was here and hers was two thousand miles away. It was just getting so damn hard to remember that.
If
wishes
were
horses, Nikki…

At length, she pulled herself out of his arms. “How long will it take to settle everything?”

“Guess you want the lawyer now instead?” He released her with a sigh. “Although Montana probate law is pretty simple, there's still a time-sensitive process you need to follow. It begins with posting a death notice in the paper that has to run for three weeks to flush out creditors. Then you have insurance policies to deal with, financial documents to transfer, as well as locating all of his account statements. This includes insurance, bank, brokerage, social security, unpaid bills, and his prior tax returns. You'll need to find the title to the truck and the deed to the house in order to get those titles transferred. This all has to be done before you can dispose of any assets. There's a shitload of paperwork.”

“So, how long?” she repeated.

“Given the size of the inheritance, it'll be several weeks at least, more likely a few months.”

“Months?” She stepped back with a frown. “I can't do that. I only have until the end of the week. My flight is Friday. I can maybe stay one more day, but if I'm not home by Sunday, my job is at risk.”

“You're still planning to leave? You really need to rethink that plan. Settling your father's estate is going to take some time.”

“Can't I hire you to take care of things for me? That's what you do, isn't it?”

“Yes. It's what I do—at a considerable cost. I could help you dispose of assets and close out the estate, if that's what you want, but my time is expensive, Nikki. I'd have to bill you for simple things that you could do yourself for free. I don't have a choice in that. It's not my practice.”

“How much are we talking about?”

“The legal fees in settling an estate often run into thousands. So, you see? In the long run, it would be worth it for you to stick around.”

“But I have a job—”

“That you hate.”

“A family—”

“That you hardly speak to.”

“How do you know that?” she asked defensively.

“You've been stranded here, for all intents and purposes, and you haven't called any of them.”

“No. I haven't,” she confessed. “I have a half sister I'm somewhat close to, but she's a major screwup, and my mother—well, don't even get me started there.”

“Got a house or do you rent?” he asked.

“I rent.”

“Got a dog?”

“Nope.”

“A cat?”

She shook her head.

“How about a goldfish?”

She laughed outright this time.

“Then what's keeping you there?” he asked.

“What are you suggesting? That I just stay here in Montana?”

He shrugged. “It's not so bad. I think it might even grow on you if you give it a chance, though Bozeman might be a better fit for you since you're a city girl.”

“But what would I even do with myself? What is there for me here?”

“Do you really need to ask?” He bent his head and plied a warm kiss to her neck. “I'd sure like to think I could make it worth your while to stay.”

She shook her head, tamping down the shiver of lust. She wondered what it would be like to spend every night with him. To spend her life with him. His suggestion both thrilled and scared her witless. “I can't believe you're even saying this. We've only known each other a few days.”

“Long enough for me to know I don't want you to go yet.”