The Last Letter(14)

At least this time I already knew what rules I’d broken and was more than aware that my time here was finite.

I pulled up to the circular drive in front of the main house, which matched the pictures I’d seen online. It looked like a log cabin, except huge. The style was modernized rustic, if that was even a thing, and somehow it spoke to me, reminded me of a time when men harvested entire trees to build houses in the wilderness for their women.

When they built things instead of destroyed them.

My feet hit the ground, and I paused, waiting for Havoc to jump down before shutting the door.

I threw the signal for heel, and she came right to my side. We climbed the small staircase that led to a wide porch, complete with rockers and a porch swing. The boxes that lined the porch railing were empty, cleaned out and ready for planting.

This was it. I was about to meet Ella.

What the hell was I going to say? Hey, I’m sorry I quit writing you, but let’s face it, I break everything I touch and didn’t want you to be next? I’m sorry Ryan died? I’m sorry it wasn’t me? Your brother sent me to watch out for you, so if you could just pretend that you don’t hate me, that would be great? I’m sorry I ghosted you? I’m sorry I couldn’t bring myself to read any of your letters that came after he died? I’m so sorry for so many things that I can’t even list them all?

If I said any of that, if she knew who I really was—why I’d stopped writing—she’d never let me help her. I’d get a boot in the ass and sent on my way. She’d already admitted in her letters that she didn’t give second chances to people who hurt her family, and I didn’t blame her. It was a torturous irony that in order to fulfill Ryan’s wish to help Ella, I’d have to do the one thing she hated—lie…at least by omission.

Just add it to the growing list of my sins.

“Are you thinking about going in? Or are you just going to stand out here?”

I turned to see an older man in his sixties coming toward me. Those were some crazy eyebrows. He dusted off his hand on his jeans and reached for mine.

We shook with a firm grip. This had to be Larry.

“You our new arrival?”

I nodded. “Beckett Gentry.”

“Larry Fischer. I’m Solitude’s groundskeeper.” He dropped to his haunches in front of Havoc but didn’t touch her. “And who might this be?”

“This is Havoc. She’s a retired military working dog.”

“You her handler?” He stood without petting her, and I immediately liked him. It was rare that people respected her personal space…or mine.

“I was. Now I think she’s mine.”

His gaze narrowed a bit, like he was searching for something in my face. After a prolonged silence, which felt like an inspection, he nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you two settled in.”

A bell chimed lightly as we entered the pristine foyer. The interior was as warm as the exterior, the walls painted in soft hues that looked professionally designed to give it a modern farmhouse look.

Yeah, I’d seen way too much HGTV in the last month. Stupid waiting rooms.

“Oh! You must be Mr. Gentry!” a chipper voice called from behind the long reception desk. The girl looked to be in her early twenties, with a wide smile, brown eyes, and hair to match. High-maintenance but pretty. Hailey.

“How would you know that?” I took out my wallet, careful not to dislodge the letter in my back pocket.

She blinked at me rapidly before dropping her eyes.

Shit. I was going to have to work on softening my tone now that I was a civilian—well, almost a civilian. Whatever.

“You’re our only checkin today.” She clicked through her computer.

I’d be checking out if Ella realized who I was. Then I’d have to find another way to help without her filing stalking charges. Although I’m sure Ryan would have gotten a kick out of that one, he wouldn’t be laughing if I couldn’t help her.

“Any preference for your cabin? We’ve got quite a few open now that the season is finally closed.”

“Whatever you have will be fine.”

“Are you sure? You’re booked for—wow! Seven months? Is that right?” She clicked quickly, like she’d found a mistake.

“That’s right.” I’d never stayed in one place for seven months in my life. But seven months took me to the anniversary of Maisie’s diagnosis, so it seemed prudent to book out a cabin. It wasn’t like I was buying a house here or anything.

She looked at me like I owed her an explanation.

Well, this was awkward.

“So if I could get a map?” I suggested.

“Of course. I’m sorry. We’ve just never had a guest stay that long. It caught me off guard.”

“No problem.”

“Wouldn’t it be cheaper to get an apartment?” she asked quietly. “Not that I’m implying that you can’t pay. Shit, Ella’s going to kill me if I keep offending guests.” She mumbled that last part.

I put my debit card on the counter in hopes that it would expedite the process.

“Run the entire amount. I’ll cover incidentals as I go. And yeah, it probably would.” That was as much of an explanation as she was going to get.

A ridiculous transaction amount later, I put my wallet away and thanked my younger self for saving like a poor kid determined to never go hungry again. I wasn’t poor anymore, or a kid, but I would never wonder where my next meal was coming from ever again.