Slow Hand (Hot Cowboy Nights, #1)(57)

“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?”