My shoulders hurt. So did my arms and my back. I finally unpacked the last box, pulling a china platter from the bottom. I stuffed the bubble wrap in the box.

I never thought I’d finish. I had moved everything from the storage building I had in the city, along with the contents of my small apartment. It added up quickly.

“There.” I folded the cardboard sides in and tossed it on the back porch with the others. I closed the screen door and faced my new home.

I never thought I would be back here. I also hadn’t counted on my uncle leaving me his summer home when he died.

It was rustic, but cute. It needed a little work. Some fresh paint and curtains and it would look like a brand new place. Not like the hunting lodge where Uncle Seton’s buddies had congregated to play cards during deer season. The first thing I had done was take the animal heads off the walls. They were creepy and not to mention coated in years of dust.

The stone fireplace was my favorite part. It was massive. Each stone had been hand-selected from the local quarry in Promise Lake. At least that’s what my uncle had always said. And now it was mine.

The cabin needed a feminine touch. A little attention and a thorough scrubbing. I intended to work on the house until it became the haven I needed.

I poured a glass of wine and plopped on the couch to take a break. The last few days had been a whirlwind. As soon as I’d received the keys and the deed to the house, it was as if every crazy impulse I’d never had kicked in.

I packed the apartment in Denver and drove out to the cabin and started unpacking. It was a little rash and a little impulsive, but when the keys landed in my hand from my uncle’s attorney something about it felt right.

I was supposed to be here. I needed this.

The cabin called to me as loudly as if it could speak.

I took a sip of the wine. The alcohol soothed the edges of my sore muscles. I’d take a hot shower before bed, but I wanted to enjoy this moment. Live in the place where I had decided to change my life.

I didn’t consult my friends. I didn’t weigh the pros and cons. I just did it. And I was giddy about it. The same way I was flushed from drinking a glass of wine. The same way it felt when I agreed to dance with a tall stranger at a bar. The anticipation of something new and exciting was exactly what I needed.

The last few months had been dark. Darker than I ever thought possible. I touched my knee, remembering the pain of the surgery. The rehab. All the physical therapy. I hadn’t wanted help. I didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. I closed myself off from the looks of pity. I knew what people thought about me. I couldn’t stand to see it reflected in their eyes. There was almost no chance of that here. I lived in the middle of a hundred acres.

I jumped when I heard a knock on the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone. I was nowhere near ready for guests.

I carried my wine with me and cautiously unlocked the latch.

I stared at an older man in a navy suit. His gold glasses slipped to the end fo his nose. He held a worn briefcase. “Is Mr. Galloway in?” he asked.

“He died,” I blurted out.

“Oh, I had no idea.” He scratched his head, obviously confused. “I’m sorry to hear the news.”

“It was a month ago,” I explained.

I still hadn’t opened the screen door between us. It seemed awkward now.

“That’s a bit of a setback I suppose.” He paused. “Well then, who is the owner of the Galloway land?”

I scrunched my eyebrows together. I didn’t like that this stranger had appeared on my new doorstep full of questions. It felt invasive of my little sanctuary of peace and quiet.

“I can take a message if you like,” I offered. I wasn’t going to give the man any information, even if he did look like someone’s sweet grandpa. I wasn’t convinced he wasn’t going to pull a pipe from his back pocket. Under other circumstances I’m sure he would be lovely to talk to, but this wasn’t the right time.

“I’d rather have the name. I need to contact them regarding some business questions,” he replied.

“Business questions? What kind of business questions?”

It hadn’t been five minutes since I unpacked my last box and now this man was pressing me to give information.

“It really is for the owner of the estate. I’m sure you can understand it’s a sensitive discussion.” He took a step backward. “I can come back tomorrow when the owner is home.”

I exhaled. “Fine. It’s me. Ok? I’m the owner. I inherited my uncle’s property.”

His shoulders relaxed. “That’s wonderful news. May I come in? I can go over everything with you. This really is wonderful.”

The cabin was in the middle of the woods, surrounded by acres of forest. I wasn’t exactly interested in letting strange men inside. I suddenly realized my new home made me vulnerable. I didn’t have to worry about isolation in Denver. I had apartment neighbors. The walls had been so thin I could hear my neighbor unload the dishwasher.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” I wasn’t going to start bad habits now.

“I would rather not speak through a screen door, Miss?”

“Savannah Galloway,” I answered. “And as nice as you might be, I’d rather not have strangers show up unannounced. I’m still moving things in and it’s a mess.”

He nodded. “Understood.” He reached in his back pocket and withdrew a business card. He slipped it through the side of the screen.

I took it in my fingers and held it closer so I could read the small print.

“I’m an attorney with Hawthorne Global.”

“I see that.” There was an immediate feeling of annoyance. I hated that name.

“So surely, you can trust that I’m not a menacing axe murderer.”

I let out a giggle. He was far from it. “I’m still not sure why you are here, or why I should let you in.”

“I believe this would be much better discussed inside.”

I wasn’t going to budge.

“Mr. Clarence, if there is something you need to tell me, go ahead before I ask you to leave. I’m not opening the screen door.” My voice was firm.

“All right. A matter of this importance is usually discussed in a more conventional setting, but I see my options are limited.” He opened his briefcase. I wondered if it was as old as he was. He held up a piece of paper. “The Hawthornes would like to acquire your property. The offer for the land is two million dollars.”

My heart stopped beating. My jaw dropped. “Did you just say two million dollars?”

He nodded. “I did.” He pressed the paper to the screen with the Hawthorne letterhead engraved with gold across the top.

I swallowed. “The Hawthornes want my land?”

“Yes, they do. Very much. And they are willing to pay a generous amount for this acreage I believe.

I straightened my spine. “No offense, Mr. Clarence, but you can tell your clients to go to hell.”

I slammed the door and locked it. I had been more polite before, but after my last experience with Hawthorne Global, I wasn’t about to deal with them again.

I marched up the stairs with my glass of wine. There was a bubble bath with my name on it.