Chapter 4 - MY BROTHER'S LITTLE GAME
Declan arrived the next morning carrying a box of pastries and the expression he wore when he wanted someone to believe he was being generous.
“I thought we should talk,” he said.
“You could have called.”
“You never answer.”
“That's not true.”
He ignored the correction and stepped inside.
His eyes traveled over the repaired fireplace, the clean kitchen, and the stack of architectural drawings on the table.
“You've made progress.”
“Thank you.”
He placed the pastries down.
“Look, Maeve. I know Dad can be difficult.”
“That's one way to describe him.”
“But he's trying to protect the family.”
I waited.
Declan sighed.
“Golden Capital is exploring a development opportunity in this region. It's complicated. There are investors involved, and the county's plans could affect the whole project.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Because your property is in the middle of the corridor.”
The room became very quiet.
I studied my brother.
“Does Dad know about the old easements?”
“He knows there's an opportunity.”
“Does he know what the records say?”
Declan glanced toward the window.
“I don't know every detail.”
It was the first honest thing he had said.
He opened a leather folder and removed a document.
Golden Capital wanted an option to purchase Blackwood. The payment would be substantial enough to cover my remaining expenses and leave me with money to start over.
“You'd be free,” he said. “No more repairs. No more night shifts. You could finally live like the rest of us.”
I read the document.
The agreement also included broad language granting the company access to certain historical records and permitting preliminary site work.
I remembered Eleanor's warning.
“I'm not signing this.”
Declan's friendly expression vanished.
“You haven't even asked what the offer is worth.”
“I don't need to.”
“Maeve, don't be stupid.”
“I'm not selling.”
He snatched the document from my hands.
“You really believe you're smarter than everyone?”
“No. I just know when someone is trying to buy something before explaining why they want it.”
For several seconds, he stared at me.
Then he laughed.
“You think this makes you important? You have a broken lodge and a truck that sounds like it's dying.”
“Then you should have no trouble finding another property.”
He left without taking the pastries.
That afternoon, Eleanor reviewed the proposed agreement.
“You were right to refuse it,” she said. “The language is much broader than a straightforward purchase option should require.”
“Could it have caused problems?”
“It could have created unnecessary legal complications. We need to examine the exact rights involved before agreeing to anything.”
I sat back.
My family had always presented its demands as favors.
A loan that came with conditions.
A gift that became a debt.
An opportunity that required obedience.
I had mistaken those arrangements for love because I had never known anything else.
Two days later, Vesper called.
“Mom wants you at Sunday brunch.”
“Why?”
“Because she's tired of this feud.”
“I'm not feuding with anyone.”
She laughed.
“Of course not. You're just refusing to cooperate.”
I almost hung up.
Then she said, “Dad is worried about you.”
That was new.
“Is he?”
“He thinks you're being manipulated by strangers. He says you're too inexperienced to understand what's happening.”
I looked at the engineering report beside my laptop.
“Maybe he should explain what is happening.”
Vesper fell silent.
“Just come to brunch,” she said eventually. “Please.”
I agreed.
The family gathered at my parents' house on Sunday.
Mom wore a cream sweater and pearl earrings. Declan looked irritated before the meal began. Dad sat at the head of the table with a folder beside his plate.
Vesper avoided my eyes.
After coffee, Dad pushed the folder toward me.
“This is a revised proposal.”
I opened it.
The purchase price had increased.
So had the list of rights Golden Capital wanted to acquire.
“I need time to review this.”
“You have already had time.”
“I need independent legal advice.”
Dad's mouth tightened.
“You're allowing an attorney to turn you against your own family.”
“No. I'm allowing an attorney to explain documents before I sign them.”
Mom placed her cup down.
“Maeve, why must everything become a battle?”
I looked at her.
“Because every time I say no, you treat it like betrayal.”
She looked away.
Dad leaned forward.
“If you refuse this offer, do not expect to be included in future family matters.”
I closed the folder.
“Then perhaps it's time I stopped expecting that.”
I left before dessert.
Outside, my phone vibrated.
It was Eleanor.
“Maeve, I have located another document from your grandmother's file.”
“What does it say?”
“Your grandmother anticipated that someone might try to acquire Blackwood without disclosing the full value of its recorded rights.”
I stopped beside my truck.
“What else?”
“She appointed an independent trustee to review any major transaction involving the property.”
“Who?”
Eleanor paused.
“Me.”
I stared at the mountains.
My grandmother had prepared for this.
May you like
She had known exactly what kind of family I belonged to.
And she had made certain I would not have to face them alone.
