somewhere in the vicinity of a new man.” Ian no longer sounded like the caring father-in-law. His expression was once more reminiscent of regretful goodbyes. “You won’t inherit anything if Penny doesn’t move out.”
Ella sat down again. Harder this time. The wood frame jarred her backside and fear jarred her insides. She should have realized she was just as expendable as the blooded Monroes.
If he was willing to fire and evict his own children, or do whatever needed to be done, she never stood a chance. “I’ll be fine. I’m fully capable of supporting Penny.” Of holding on to her dignity if she couldn’t exactly hold on to her status as one of the Monroes.
Orphaned again? She wanted to cry.
She’d lived in four foster homes in six years. When she’d married Bryce, she’d thought she’d never lose a family again. She’d invested herself in the Monroes, let herself love and trust. And now this.
Someone knocked on the door.
Without waiting for an answer, three of the Monroe cousins trundled in, stomping their boots and shaking their winter jackets to shed the snow that had fallen on their way over.
Sophie pushed her glasses up her nose and scowled at the lawyer. “Has he told you the details regarding our property?”
Ella had been about to offer them food and drink, but... Our property? “The town in Idaho?”
“Two thousand mostly undeveloped acres in the middle of nowhere.” Sophie’s twin, Shane, filled in Ella. Their branch of the family had light brown hair and dark brown eyes. “Fifty or so structures mostly built before the 1950s.”
“Some of which are leased,” Laurel added, distracted by Ella’s gray knit poncho hanging by the door. The Hollywood Monroes had bright red hair and blue eyes. Laurel had been a costume designer at Monroe Studios in Hollywood up until an hour ago. She held the poncho up to the light, inspecting the stitches.
“Leases mean income.” Ella tried to sound optimistic as she wondered what the cousins wanted from her.
“Not in this case.” Shane scowled at the lawyer now, too. “Grandpa Harlan offered leases for one dollar a year.”
Holden barged in without knocking. He hadn’t bothered with a heavy coat and wore only his black wool suit, which was dusted with snow. “We didn’t get your vote, Ella. You have to vote for Penny.”
“Oh, for the love of...” Sophie shook her head. “She’s a single mom, like me. She’s not going to support you.”
“Part of a town is better than nothing.” Laurel turned away from the poncho. “Isn’t that right, Ella?”
Everything was coming at Ella at a dizzying pace. Everyone was looking at her to follow their lead.
“Let Ella make up her own mind.” Holden stood with his hands on his hips and fixed Ella with a firm, obey-me stare. He was cut from the same cloth as Ian and his brothers. “I’ve got six votes for challenging the will. If you vote with me, the tide will turn, and the others will realize there’s power in solidarity.”
“Ignore him.” Shane moved to stand next to Ella. “At the very least, we can divide the town into parcels and sell to buyers interested in luxury ranchettes. Jonah and Cam are with us on this.”
“Is there a market for that near this town?” Ella’s dusty real-estate savvy reawakened with a yawn.
“You can’t sell the town until one year after the anniversary of your grandfather’s death,” Daniel pointed out, like a referee who’d sneaked up behind you during a big game to blow his whistle.
“Why would Eleanor go to Idaho?” Ian put his hand on the door handle and stared at Ella as if she didn’t deserve to go with the other Monroes. The “real” Monroes.
Ella’s vision tunneled.
“You should join the smart Monroe cousins and challenge the will as Penny’s guardian.” Holden’s strong chin was up, daring others to take a shot at his logic. “It’s risky, but—”
“It’s too risky. She’s coming with us.” Sophie flanked Ella, opposite her twin. “We’re going to Second Chance and we’re going to evaluate it for sale. We need a Realtor for that.”
Ella assumed she was the Realtor, although her license in Pennsylvania had lapsed and she didn’t have one in Idaho. She tried to think of what Bryce would have wanted and what was best for Penny.
Holden only wanted a vote to swing momentum to his cause, one that risked Penny’s inheritance, small though it was. And what Grandpa Harlan had wanted, what he’d written suspiciously near the time Bryce had died... A tug of responsibility pulled at Ella. She should do what the old man wanted.
“Grandpa Harlan wanted the family to go.” Laurel stood between Ella and Holden, crossing her arms. “And Ella’s part of this family.”
Family.
Family was all Ella had ever wanted after her mother died. Family was the people standing by her side, the ones who’d care for Penny if need be, the ones declaring she was one of them, even though deep down Ella knew she wasn’t.
She met Ian’s gaze, and then Holden’s. “I’ve made my decision.”
She was siding with family.
SNOW DRAPED THE Sawtooth mountain range, carpeted the Colter Valley and frosted the Salmon River like a blue-tinged Christmas card.
And more snow was coming.
Second Chance residents, like Dr. Noah Bishop, knew it. This was the calm before the next storm. It was there in the biting, building wind at dawn, and at midday, when the sky was heavy with gray clouds that descended below the mountaintops.
Trudging through the drifts from his home office to the Bent Nickel diner, the taste of snow punched the air and clung to Noah’s lungs like icicles to a metal roof. This time last year, he’d been operating on the shoulder of a football league’s MVP. His one patient today had complained of an ingrown toenail.
Oh, how the mighty has tumbled from his pedestal.
Noah’s inner voice hadn’t adjusted to life in the mountains as a country doctor.
He slogged his way around the side of the inn to the cleared sidewalk. Farther down, the parking stalls in front of the grocery store and gas station were empty. The old, white steepled church, the boxy schoolhouse, the brick mercantile and log-cabin fur-trading post stood above the road, windows dark and empty. The buildings and a dozen or so smaller cabins made up the heart of the roadside town located where two narrow highways met in the Idaho high country. The rest of the residents were spread out around the bends of the Salmon River.
A snowplow rumbled by from the south and turned at the fork to the west, a last-ditch effort by the state to keep the roads open as long as possible.
Heads whipped around when
