Chapter Thirty-One

THE ENTIRE TIME THAT GABE WAS IN DENVER, Kendall felt like holding her breath. He’d finally told her what his father did and how he might be able to help them, but despite what he wasn’t saying, she knew it was a long shot. What man would receive his son with open arms when he’d been reviled for over a decade? Kendall certainly didn’t expect anything. Which meant that she would be responsible for making these next steps work on her own.

Somehow, Kendall had thought that this was going to be a simple process—just download the appropriate forms, fill them out, and email them in. She should have known better, especially considering that it was a governmental process. It took her nearly all morning to parse the National Park Service’s website and download all the requisite forms for the national registry, which then sent her to the state’s historical society, History Colorado, for information on the state registry. It seemed that they gave grants up to $200,000 for the preservation of historically significant properties.

It was then that she made two unpleasant realizations. First, she had missed the fall deadline by mere days. And second, just because they got the properties listed—if they got the properties listed—it didn’t mean that they would be automatically protected. Private owners were within their rights to demolish, renovate, change, or rebuild the properties as they saw fit, with no interference from state or local governments. Which meant the county could still choose to condemn the houses if they deemed them dangerous.

In short, the magic bullet might turn out to be no more effective than a Nerf dart.

Kendall sighed and dropped her head into her hands. She was beginning to think that she really might not come out of this process with anything. Somewhere along the lines, she’d stopped worrying about buying the house in Pasadena and started agonizing over the idea of losing the last tenuous link to her past. Now that she knew, however late it might be, that she’d actually had a family who loved her, Connie Green’s house meant something to her. The town meant something to her.

Gabe meant something to her.

But that last part wasn’t to be. He’d made that clear. And it had no bearing on what she had to do here. For the first time in her life, for reasons she couldn’t understand, she was tempted to pray.

But that was stupid. She wasn’t even convinced that God would acknowledge her existence. He certainly had never made Himself known to her in those years when she’d needed Him. So why would He bother to rouse from His slumber for something as insignificant as saving a home she didn’t even know she had a few weeks ago?

And yet . . . she found herself thinking the words in her head, if not to God, to the universe. Please. Please don’t let me lose this house. After everything I’ve lost, I think that would be unbearable.

The words had barely surfaced in her mind before her phone rang and jerked her out of her thoughts. She snatched it up and saw Gabe’s name on the screen. After a moment of hesitation, she punched the Accept button and raised it to her ear with a tentative “Hello?”

“Kendall. I’m glad you picked up. I just left my dad’s office.”

Her hopes rose. “Will he help you? Is he interested in investing?”

“Not exactly,” Gabe said, and those hopes crashed to the ground, as fragile and brittle as antique china. “But he did have another idea.” Gabe filled her in on what his father had suggested about contacting the state historical society and applying for a grant.

“I already found that,” Kendall said, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. “We missed the deadline.”

“Yes, but before we didn’t have the recommendation of a member of the organization and the personal contact information of one of the decision makers. Not that she can sway them to our side, but he was pretty sure they’d accept the late application given the unique situation and the urgency.”

Kendall’s heart lifted. “Really?”

“Really. But there’s more. He gave me the name of an attorney. I already called her and she’ll see me this afternoon while I’m in Denver. She’s willing to file for an injunction on the condemnation proceedings in county court, and she’s pretty sure she’ll be successful.”

For reasons that she couldn’t fully explain, tears sprang to Kendall’s eyes. “Really?” she repeated, her voice choked.

Gabe’s voice softened. “Really, Kendall. We’re not going to let Burton succeed. We’re going to fight this, and we’re going to win.”

Emotion swelled in her chest and she found she couldn’t answer for several seconds. “Thank you, Gabe. I mean, I know this is for the town too, but . . .”

“I know how much it means to you, Kendall. I know it wasn’t what you were looking for when you came here, but I don’t blame you for wanting to hold on to that connection to your past.”

Kendall swallowed hard and nodded before realizing he couldn’t see that gesture. Hope joined the ache in her center, fragile but new. “Thanks, Gabe. I’m going to get started on the registry application now.”

“Good plan. I’ll call you when I’m done with the lawyer.” He paused. “God willing, we’ll have this all locked down by the time you have to leave.”

“Great. Let me know what happens.” She clicked off the line, but his words stuck with her: God willing. Maybe it was just a saying, but now she wondered. The timing of his call felt altogether too convenient given her tentative prayer moments before.

But that was silly.

Wasn’t it?

Kendall pushed her laptop off her lap onto the bed and thrust her feet into the boots standing on the rug at the bedside. She needed to work on the registry application, yes, but the checklist had clearly said that she needed photographs documenting the homes and their historic elements. Given the fact that there was no electricity there, she needed to snap some photos while it was still light outside. She might as well give it a shot now. They didn’t have much time to waste.

Kendall pulled on her jacket over her fuzzy sweater and yanked her knit cap down over her ears, bracing herself for the cold. Fortunately, the roads were hard-packed and reasonably stable between the mounds of snow on the shoulders, so she drove far more confidently than she had the day after the storm.

And yet when she pulled up to her house, there was a big black SUV sitting in front. Slowly Kendall climbed out of her rental, her brow furrowed. Tracks in the snow around the outside of the house showed someone had been there recently . . . or was still there.

“Hello?” she called, hating the fact that her voice sounded so tentative. For the first time, she realized exactly how isolated she was out here, on a side of the lake that had no structures except for the occasional hunting shack. The town itself was so friendly and benign that it had never occurred to her to worry about the isolation. But now . . .

Don’t be stupid. It was probably the city inspector tacking up the notice on the door. Now that she had crossed the street to the sidewalk, she saw the piece of paper that had indeed been pasted to her front door.

And then a crunching of snow from the back of the house alerted her to the owner of the footprints. She braced herself as a tall figure rounded the side of the house, resolving into an all-too-familiar sight: Phil Burton.

The fear she’d felt moments ago dissolved into pure, unadulterated fury. She planted her hands on her hips and stared him down as he approached, an amused smile on his face.

“Good morning, Kendall. Didn’t expect to see you out here. Come to say goodbye to the place?”

Very rarely had she considered a person evil, and she’d mostly thought of Burton as an opportunist. Maybe she had an uneasy relationship with development, but she’d never really hated him. Until this moment.

He was trying to upset her, wanted her to know that he’d won. Basically he was gloating. Kendall didn’t take the bait. Instead she said evenly, “You’re trespassing. This is my property, not yours.”

“Come now, Kendall. We both know it won’t be your property for long.”

She didn’t want to tip her hand, so she just clenched her jaw. “All you’ve managed to do is get condemnation proceedings started. They might tear the houses down, but given that you’re behind it, what makes you think that I would ever sell the land to you?” She turned and surveyed the lake. “I mean, since you’re thinking about developing around it, I was thinking I might hold on to it as an investment. I figure in about ten years, this lot will be worth . . . what? A million or two at least? If I’m patient, I’ll get what I want out of it.”

For a second, Burton’s expression flickered into uncertainty. She’d at least planted a seed of doubt. But it steeled again and he smiled. “If that’s what you want to do, I have no objection. Hold on to the land. I’ll build around it and take advantage of the unobstructed views of the lake through your property. Because really, who’s going to want to build a multimillion-dollar house that backs to a resort?”

He had her there, and he knew it. But this had been about misdirection—she didn’t want him to think for a second that they were going to fight him in court or that they were going for a History Colorado grant. Let him bask in his own glory while he could. The thought of his shock made her smile inwardly. If he wasn’t so determined to make this personal, she probably wouldn’t be so determined to enjoy his inevitable defeat.

But that brought up another question. Why exactly was this so personal to him? She could understand trying to secure the lot for a development, but there was plenty of land on this side of the lake. In fact, her houses didn’t even have the best views. The section just a half mile down had a protected cove that would be perfect for launching paddleboards and rowboats come summer. So why was he so determined to have this spot for his resort?

Secure in his victory in their little skirmish, he brushed past her, striding out into the snowy street.

Kendall called to him, “What do you get out of this exactly?”

He paused. “What do you mean?”

“There are better places to build a resort, and given the amount of money you were willing to throw at this piece of land, I know that finances aren’t the main issue. So why are you so determined to knock down these houses?”

Burton went still, and she knew she’d scored a direct hit. For a long moment, she didn’t think he was going to answer her. But then he strode back toward her, his expression ugly. “You really want to know why?”

Kendall backed up a step, but she squared her shoulders. “Yes. I want to know.”

“That witch ruined my family. She killed my brother.”

Kendall blinked at him, in shock. “I thought your brother was killed in a car accident. And he left my mother, not the other way around.”

“I see you’re not surprised by the family connection.” He gave a harsh laugh. “I’m not talking about your mother, though she was another piece of work. I’m talking about your grandmother.”

Kendall swallowed hard. “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. Because if there was one thing Connie Green was good at, it was hiding the truth. She hid the truth about her husband for a decade though she had to know he batted for the other team. No, my brother was in love with your mother. For reasons I still can’t understand, he was willing to give up everything for that little tramp. He just wanted to finish college first. Be able to provide for her and his brat.” He smiled slightly, as if only now realizing that he was talking about Kendall. “He had a football scholarship waiting for him. But no, Connie Green pushed and pushed. Demanded that his baby not be born out of wedlock, because God forbid that anyone think the daughter she raised was less than perfect.”

Kendall stared at him, shell-shocked. This was not the story she’d heard, not even the story she’d imagined. “He was going to marry her?”

“He left school for her. Abandoned his responsibilities to his family, got the only job that would hire a stupid nineteen-year-old college dropout, the gas and oil fields in southern Colorado. It was on his way back to work after visiting her that he got into the car wreck that killed him.”

The revelation took Kendall’s knees out from under her, and she looked around for somewhere to sit, but there was nowhere. Not unless she wanted to plummet to the bottom of a snowbank. “I thought he was drunk driving.”

“That’s what the coroner said, but he was wrong. Did you know that blood alcohol level can rise after death and cause a false positive? Look it up. He didn’t drink, never did. He had a reputation for being a partier, but that was only because he was on the football team.” Burton’s expression shifted far away, and she realized he had momentarily forgotten about her. “He was the good one out of the two of us. He was going to be a doctor. The football player who wanted to be a doctor. My parents were counting on him taking care of them in their old age.” Burton laughed harshly. “Guess who that fell to after he died?”

Kendall could barely breathe at all the revelations. She hadn’t been abandoned by her mother, and her mother hadn’t been abandoned by her boyfriend. Somehow, Connie Green had a small part in the whole situation because of her rigidity.

One bad decision that had snowballed and destroyed an entire family.

No, two. Because now as she looked at Phil Burton, she didn’t see evil. She saw bitterness and sorrow and a deep thread of unforgiveness that was eating him alive. He held her family responsible for everything that had happened to his, even though it was nearly thirty years ago and his brother had been an equal participant in the act that had brought her into the world.

And even more unsettling, she saw a small bit of that in herself.

“You have to let it go,” she said softly.

It was clearly the last thing he’d expected her to say. She continued, “I’ve spent my whole life hating my mother for abandoning me, my father for being absent, and now, my grandmother for not coming to find me even though she knew I was alive. I intended on selling these houses as quickly as possible, because like you, I wanted to erase all memory of the family I should have had.”

She took a deep breath and fixed her gaze on him. “But you know what I’ve realized? It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. I wasn’t hurting them with my hate. I was only hurting myself.” She gave him a sad smile. “You can raze these houses to the ground, but long after they’re gone, your hate will still be here, eating you alive.”

They locked eyes, and Kendall held her breath, waiting for his response. For a second, she thought she’d gotten through to him. Then he sneered, “Enjoy your last thirty days with the houses and with your forgiveness. I’ll take my retribution.”

He spun on his heel, marched across the street, and climbed into his vehicle, slamming the door so hard the window rattled. But he shot one last searching look at her as he pulled a U-turn in the street and headed back toward the highway.

Kendall managed to remain standing until his taillights disappeared, and then her knees gave out. She stumbled up the walkway and collapsed on the icy front steps of Connie Green’s house. And for reasons she couldn’t exactly understand, the tears she’d been holding back overflowed their gates and spilled down her face.

No, she did understand.

Her mother had wanted her. Her father had apparently loved her mother enough to give up his future plans for her. And her grandmother had made so many mistakes, but she had tried to rectify them. It had just been too late. Chance, bad luck, whatever you wanted to call it, had intervened and set Kendall on a path that no child should have to walk.

She didn’t know how long she sat on the front steps of the house, weeping for the life she should have had, weeping for the life she’d actually lived, feeling the sorrow that she would never know the people who had unintentionally set her down this path. She held every single one of them responsible for their choices.

Then she forgave them.

And when she finally pushed herself to her feet—her face tear-streaked, her insides hollowed out, and her butt numb from the cold concrete—she felt like a different person.

A person ready to face whatever life had for her.