Her Son's Faithful Companion
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Jill Weatherholt
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15,7K
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Chapter One
Inheriting her childhood home along with a valuable piece of land might be the answer to Caitlyn Calloway’s prayers. Selling the property could hold the promise of some financial relief, allowing Caitlyn to provide her son with the care he deserved. Last year’s epilepsy diagnosis had buried her under a mountain of bills, pushing her months behind on the rent for their cramped Wyoming home. Selling might even free Caitlyn from the turbulent memories associated with the death of her parents, casting a shadow over her adult life.
“Let’s go inside, Mom.”
Caitlyn glanced at her seven-year-old son, Henry. At the rate he was growing, he’d surpass her five-foot-four-inch frame by the end of next year. His sandy-blond hair desperately needed a cut, as evidenced by the tousled wavy locks practically covering his ears. Signing his adoption papers two years earlier, after fostering Henry for a year, had been the best day of her life. Henry’s kind heart and dimpled smile were the reasons she got out of bed each morning. She slid her phone from her bag to double-check the text message from the estate attorney. “The caretaker should be here soon, but we’re a couple minutes early. Let’s wait until he gets here before going inside.” With no updates to the first text, Caitlyn tucked the phone away.
Late May thunderstorms had extended the drive from Wyoming to Bluebell Canyon, Colorado. The weather had forced them to stay overnight at a motel outside of Denver. An unexpected expense that added pressure on Caitlyn’s already strained finances.
Henry’s gangly jean-clad legs took the stacked stone steps of the farmhouse two at a time. At the top, he spun on his heel. “I can’t believe you lived here. This house must be really old...like you.” He giggled while gazing at the large two-story home with a steeply pitched roof. The painted trim underneath the gutter appeared chipped and peeling. “Cool! It’s got a real fireplace—not like our fake one!” Henry pointed to the weathered red-brick chimney on the end of the house.
It was nice to see him so happy. Lately, the stress of Henry’s diagnosis of epilepsy had taken a toll on Caitlyn. She felt as old as the restored eighteenth-century home she’d inherited. A place that had once provided a carefree childhood had developed into a tumultuous environment the year she’d turned seven.
“Funny guy, now come down and wait with me.”
“Look!” He jumped and snatched hold of a weathered cord hanging from a cast-iron bell. Two quick pulls sparked a vivid memory of Caitlyn’s mother. Ringing the bell meant dinner was on the table.
“Henry! Down here, now,” she snapped.
“But I want to try this cool swing.” Henry’s tennis shoes whacked against the cedar porch as he sprinted toward the old two-person swing hanging from the ceiling by frayed rope. The splintered wooden seat appeared it would collapse even with the weight of a child.
“Stop! It’s not safe.” Caitlyn’s sharp tone cut through the air. She bolted up the stairs and toward Henry to prevent him from climbing on the rickety swing.
Henry stopped short and turned with a puzzled expression. “What’s wrong? I just wanted to play on it.”
Caitlyn couldn’t blame Henry. As a child, she’d had many fond experiences on this porch swing. She pulled her dark brown ponytail over her shoulder, knelt and took Henry’s hand in hers. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but the swing is too old and it could break if you sit on it. You might get hurt.”
Henry glanced over his shoulder before turning back to his mother. “Yeah, it looks kind of old, like the rest of the house.”
Caitlyn stood and guided Henry to the top step of the porch. “Let’s sit.”
Henry followed her lead and sat down. “Has the swing always been here?”
“Shortly after my parents were married and moved into the house, my dad built the swing for my mom. In the evening, when my dad would come in from working in the field, he liked to relax out here.” Caitlyn’s heart squeezed as a vivid picture of her dad crossing the field and waving filled her mind. With a pitcher of lemonade on a nearby table, Caitlyn’s bare feet had swung back and forth over the wooden floor while she’d anxiously waited for her father. “When I was not much younger than you are now, in the summer, I’d always wait for him with something cold to drink. He’d climb the steps, take off his cowboy hat and always say with a smile, ‘Hey there Katydid. How was your day?’ before he took a seat next to me.”
Henry giggled. “That’s a bug! Why did he call you that?”
“Once I was old enough, my father told me when I was around two years old, I started to giggle each time we’d hear the Katydid chorus during the summer. Anyway, I’d snuggle beside him, and we would enjoy the soothing motion swinging back and forth while we watched the sun set over the Rocky Mountains. He’d tell me stories about when he was a little boy.”
Sounds of a diesel engine rumbled. Caitlyn peered over her shoulder and spotted a blue extended-cab pickup truck heading down the dirt driveway. “There’s the caretaker. Let’s go.” She pulled her hands from the back pockets of her jeans and motioned for Henry to follow her down the steps.
Adrenaline coursed through her body. In a matter of minutes, she’d be inside the home she’d run away from a month before her seventeenth birthday.
With Henry at her side, Caitlyn squinted into the bright sun and wished she hadn’t forgotten her sunglasses at the motel this morning. She watched as the truck pulled around to the side of the wraparound porch.
Seconds passed before the door slammed and gravel crunched.
Caitlyn placed a hand over her eyebrows and spotted a tall, ruggedly muscular outline approaching. A stray cloud drifted across the sun, finally revealing a face. Memories flooded her mind. Her breath caught. Logan.
“Caitlyn?”
The crinkled brow and stunned expression proved her presence had equally surprised Logan Beckett. Surprised or not, Caitlyn clearly remembered the piercing green eyes that always remained focused on whoever was in his presence. His neatly cut black hair with flecks of gray around the temples highlighted his firm jawline. The two had met during her years on the rodeo circuit as a professional barrel racer. Logan’s brother, Luke, a professional bull rider, had been a good friend to Caitlyn.
She blinked rapidly to will away the butterflies flitting in her stomach. “This is a surprise.” Her voice trembled.
A slow smile that could make friends in an instant crossed his face. He tilted his head to one side, sending a shiver down Caitlyn’s back. In Logan’s company, she’d always had this reaction, but her desire to be the best barrel racer had kept her focus off of Logan and on the sport.
“Hi! I’m Henry. Who are you?”
“It’s nice to meet you, Henry. I’m Logan. Your mother and I are old friends.”
Logan moved closer and gave Caitlyn an awkward hug, pulling her closer to his broad shoulders. His six-foot-two-inch frame towered over her. He smelled nice, reminding her of the spicy nutmeg she used to make Henry’s favorite pancakes. Still trying to understand Logan’s presence, Caitlyn pulled away from his muscular arms and took a step back. “Are you the caretaker for this property?”
“No, I lease several hundred acres of land, but Joe Lucas has taken care of the house since the owner, Martha Williams, moved to Florida. She recently passed away and Joe has left Bluebell. I got a voice mail from him about an estate attorney needing the key to the property,” Logan explained. “Did you know Martha?”
Caitlyn remained confident her parents wouldn’t have chosen Martha as her guardian if they had foreseen the eventual downward spiral of her life. “She was my mother’s best friend and my guardian after my parents died.”
“I remember Luke mentioning the car accident. I’m sorry.”
Caitlyn nodded. “It’s been a long time.” She turned and focused on the farmhouse. “This was my home for almost seventeen years.” Following the death of her parents at seven years old, Caitlyn had no other choice than to place her trust in Martha. Years later, when Martha had brought her boyfriend into the home, Caitlyn had realized what a mistake she and her parents had made for trusting the woman. “At the time of the accident, except for me, my parents didn’t have any living relatives, so they willed the home and property to Martha. Until recently, I didn’t know my parents’ will stipulated everything would go to me upon Martha’s death, as long as I was of legal age. I haven’t spoken with her since I left for Wyoming when I was a teenager.”
Caitlyn forced the ugly memories of why she left into the back of her mind. “So, is Joe returning, or do you have the key?”
Henry bounced on his toes. “Yeah, I want to see my mom’s old bedroom.”
Logan grinned and ruffled the top of Henry’s sandy-blond hair. “I don’t have the key, but Joe told me where Martha stashed a spare. I’ll run around back and grab it.”
Caitlyn watched Logan round the corner of the porch.
“Was he in the rodeo with you, Mom?”
“No, but his brother Luke was a professional bull rider.” Although she and Luke were closer in age, back then, she’d carried a secret crush on Logan.
“That’s so cool! Maybe if the doctors find a cure for epilepsy, I can be a bull rider, too.”
Caitlyn prayed for a cure. Since the diagnosis over a year ago, she’d tried to stay positive and encourage Henry. She never wanted Henry to feel limited. “Maybe so, sweetie. Let’s go up on the porch while we wait for Mr. Beckett.” Caitlyn took her son’s hand and headed up the front steps. A loose board rattling underneath her foot caused her to question exactly how long Joe, the caretaker, had been out of town.
Grateful for a moment to calm her nerves after the surprise appearance by Logan, Caitlyn scanned the expansive green pasture then looked down at her son. “You like it here, don’t you?”
Henry’s head bobbled up and down. “If this is your house, why can’t we move here?”
“Our home is in Wyoming. Plus, your friends are there.” If moving to Colorado would make the pile of past-due bills waiting on her desk disappear, Caitlyn would move in a heartbeat. By summer, using the proceeds from the sale of her inheritance, Caitlyn hoped to have Henry’s medical bills paid off, as well as the overdue rent to her landlord. Then she’d expand the size of the barrel racing classes she taught and extend the hours. One day, she dreamed of having schools across the state of Wyoming that offered specialized boot camps, along with private lessons. Maybe even offer an all-inclusive camp where the girls could stay for a week. Caitlyn had always believed a solid foundation was the key to excellence in the arena.
Henry struggled to sit still and squirmed on the porch step. “But if we moved here, no one would know I have epilepsy. I could have more friends. Back home, lots of the guys are afraid to play with me now.”
Caitlyn rested her arm around Henry and pulled him closer. After a recent seizure he’d had at school on the playground, she’d noticed many of Henry’s friends wouldn’t come by the house anymore. She’d talked to some mothers who’d explained witnessing the seizure had frightened their children.
“Give them time. They’ll come around.”
Footsteps rustled in the grass. “Are you ready to see the inside?” Logan bounded up the steps two at a time, flashing the key.
Henry jumped from the step and followed Logan to the front door. “I am!”
Logan slipped the key into the lock and turned it.
There was no turning back. Caitlyn inhaled deeply. In the weeks leading up to the night she’d run away from home, Caitlyn had kept a close eye on her bedroom door. For more than half of her life, she’d avoided coming home, but now, for the sake of her son, she had no choice but to face her past.
“It looks old,” Henry noted as he shadowed Logan inside.
Caitlyn’s heart thumped in her chest when she stepped over the threshold and into the front room, or the parlor, as her mother had called it. Instantly recognizing the peeling gold wallpaper, she pressed her damp palms against her legs. Caitlyn’s father had hung the paper as a birthday surprise for her mother.
Logan flipped the light switch and moved toward the front windows. “Let’s bring in a little daylight. It might brighten things up a bit.” He drew the curtains. Particles of dust swirled in the sunlight that came streaming through the window.
“I think it was better without the light.” Caitlyn scanned the room. The once-luminous hardwood flooring was now dull and covered with black scratch marks. “When exactly did Joe leave town?”
Logan rubbed his neck. “It’s kind of hard to tell. He’s never had a steady job, but he goes off for long stretches in search of work as a ranch hand. I tried to help by offering him temporary jobs here and there, but he was never reliable.”
Caitlyn tilted her head. “It’s obvious he didn’t take his job as caretaker seriously. Martha couldn’t have been aware of this or she wouldn’t have continued to pay him.”
Logan closed the space between himself and Caitlyn. He glanced toward the kitchen where Henry had wandered, but was still in sight. He whispered, “You must know about Martha’s drug and alcohol problem.”
Caitlyn nodded. “Yes, but like I said, I hadn’t spoken to her in years.” After Caitlyn had left Colorado, she’d prayed that one day Martha would reach out to apologize. Perhaps even share if she’d overcome her addiction.
“Before she left town, my brothers and I tried to help her, but by the time she left for Florida, she was in terrible shape. It was a shame. She’d once been a gracious lady, but seemed to get mixed up with the wrong company.”
When Caitlyn was around twelve, Martha had turned to alcohol following a nasty breakup. The woman her parents had entrusted to care for their daughter had morphed into a different person. “I suppose Joe and Martha both weren’t too concerned about the property...that explains why the place is in much worse shape than I expected.”
“Mom! Come look! There’s a mouse back here,” Henry shouted from the kitchen.
“Why am I not surprised?” Caitlyn scurried to the rear of the home. Loose floorboards rattled underneath her boots. Another expense.
Logan followed. “By the look of things, there’s probably more than a few mice running around the place.”
Shelling out money for a motel room last night was already more than Caitlyn could handle. She didn’t have the funds to stay anywhere while in Bluebell, so the plan had been to remain in the house while she addressed any necessary repairs. But with mice—and anything else—creeping around the home, the dilapidated floorboards, the peeling wallpaper, and who knows what other problems, she might have to come up with another solution. But what other option was there?
“Are you sure you saw a mouse?” Caitlyn immediately noticed the kitchen was in no better condition than the front room.
“Yeah, look over there.” Henry pointed.
Logan chuckled as he looked in the critter’s direction and turned to Henry. “You must live in the city in Wyoming. That’s a chipmunk.”
Caitlyn’s shoulders relaxed. “I suppose a chipmunk is better than a mouse, right?”
“Not necessarily.” Logan moved to the walk-in pantry, pulled out a broom, and headed to the door leading from the kitchen to the back porch. “These little guys might be cute, but similar to a squirrel, they can be quite destructive. If they chew on the wiring, that could create a fire hazard. Plus, they can burrow holes in the backyard. The last thing you want is to break your ankle walking around in the yard. My guess is the enormous chestnut tree along the fence line is the primary food source.” He opened the door before walking over to the chipmunk, who appeared too interested in his chestnut stash in the corner to notice anyone.
What if there was already damage to the wiring? Caitlyn bit her lower lip. Electricians cost a fortune. “So, how do I keep them from coming inside the house?”
Logan used the broom and guided the critter across the kitchen floor and out onto the back porch. He closed the door and squatted. “First, I’ll need to seal entry points, crevices and gaps, similar to this one.” He pointed to the gaping hole at the baseboard.
Was Logan offering his services for free? She’d learned the hard way not to depend on a man. Her skills with a hammer were better than most. Caitlyn scanned the room and spotted two more holes in the kitchen. “That could be an extensive project.” Visions of her bank account balance depleting played in her mind.
“Probably so, but I can get it knocked out in no time. We don’t want any snakes to find their way inside.”
“Cool! I always wanted a pet snake,” Henry cheered.
Logan stifled a laugh.
A shiver traveled up Caitlyn’s back. She could handle most creatures, but she drew the line with snakes. This wasn’t good. The rooms downstairs required significant attention. Martha had left a small amount of money to cover household repairs, but not nearly enough for all the issues Caitlyn could see. Concern rolled around in her head. Caitlyn couldn’t help but wonder what they’d find on the second floor...
Caitlyn was as cute as Logan remembered, with her heart-shaped face and the light brown freckles across the bridge of her pert nose. Although still petite, she’d grown up from her early competitive barrel racing days when he’d first laid eyes on her. Back then, she was barely out of her teen years. Now she could turn every man’s head in a packed stadium. And she had a child.
“Do you think there are snakes in the house?” Caitlyn gnawed on her thumb while her hazel eyes shifted around the kitchen.
“It’s a little early in the season, but you could have a problem this summer if I don’t get the house sealed properly.” Logan closed the door and returned the broom to the pantry.
“Henry and I will be long gone by then. The new owner will have to deal with any unwelcome visitors.”
It surprised Logan to hear Caitlyn could so easily sell her childhood home. If he had kids, he’d love for them to grow up in the house where he’d lived as a child. Maybe her work kept her busy in Wyoming. “Do you still compete? You were pretty good.” Logan knew she had exceptional talent. He’d followed her career closely for several years. There was a time when Caitlyn Calloway had been the most successful barrel racer on the rodeo circuit.
Caitlyn laughed. “No, I retired a few years ago. The sport is for the younger generation.” She reached down and rested her hands on Henry’s shoulders. “These days, this guy keeps me running in circles.”
Overhead, a loud thump sounded.
Logan peered up at the ceiling. “I’m not sure what that noise was, but I guess we better go check out the upstairs. It’s probably nothing.” Old houses often made unexplained noises.
Henry jumped up and down. “That sounded like a bear or something! Let’s go see!”
Logan laughed when Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “I’ll go first. I’ve had a little experience with bears out in the woods.” He winked at Caitlyn before heading toward the front staircase.
With every movement, the wooden steps creaked under their feet. When they reached the top, the last stair popped and cracked.
“I can’t believe the steps still make noises. It used to annoy my mother, but my father refused to fix the problem.”
Outside of the first room, Logan turned to Caitlyn. “Why didn’t your dad have them repaired?”
Caitlyn wrapped her arms around her waist. “He said it would come in handy when I became a teenager and tried to stay out past my curfew.”
Logan half smiled, believing the steps may have stirred up painful memories from Caitlyn’s past. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been for her to lose both parents at such a young age. “The noise might have come from this room.” He reached for the doorknob and turned.
“That’s the main bedroom. I’m hoping it’s in decent enough shape for Henry and me to sleep in while we’re here.”
Henry’s eyes widened. “I’m not sleeping in a room with a bear.”
Logan laughed. “I promise there are no bears in this house.”
They moved inside the bedroom. Logan spotted the source of the sound. “I think the barnyard cat decided he wanted to upgrade.” The animal sprinted across the room and into the bathroom.
“Cool! I always wanted a cat. Can we keep him, Mom?”
“I thought you wanted a snake?” Logan glanced at Caitlyn.
Henry shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t care which one. Mom has never let me have a pet.”
Dogs had always been a constant throughout Logan’s childhood. Now, as an adult, he trained service dogs. “Well, cats are pretty low maintenance, so maybe she’ll change her mind.”
“I doubt a stray cat would enjoy the car ride back to Wyoming. He belongs here.” Caitlyn paused. “Well, not here exactly. We’ll have to take him outside and figure out how he got in.”
Logan moved inside the bathroom. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about the cat. It appears he found the escape route.” He pointed to the window, open enough for the animal to come and go. With some force, Logan pushed the window closed and attempted to secure the lock. “It’s broken. I’ll have to change the lock.”
If Caitlyn planned to sleep in the house, he’d have to do a thorough search of the property. But, even then, it wasn’t a good idea for them to stay here alone. Hopefully, he could convince her to settle at his brother’s place. Luke and his family lived in Whispering Slopes, Virginia, so his house in Bluebell sat vacant most of the time.
Twenty minutes later, Logan had taken Caitlyn and Henry on a tour through the entire house. Henry went outside in search of the stray cat while Caitlyn ran out to her car. She returned with a red journal and pen in hand. While moving around the kitchen, she began furiously scribbling page after page of notes.
“Are you making a to-do list?” Logan broke the silence, filling the room.
Caitlyn dropped her hands to her sides but continued to clutch the journal and pen. “It’s becoming more like a book than a list.” She blew a stray piece of hair away from her face. “I’m pretty good with do-it yourself projects, but I don’t think I’ll be able to put the house on the market as soon as I had hoped.”
Logan couldn’t help but wonder if someone special was waiting for her back in Wyoming, but he didn’t want to pry. “What’s the big rush?” Or did he? “Don’t you want to spend time with your son in the town where you grew up?”
“Wyoming is our home.”
He was still unsure of her reason for rushing, but it seemed best not to pressure Caitlyn. It appeared she had things on her mind that she’d rather keep private. He could respect that. Logan was a private man himself. “You could always cut the price and sell the house as is. The repairs on the first floor alone could take weeks.”
“Time is something I don’t have,” Caitlyn snapped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
Logan considered Caitlyn’s response. Something wasn’t right. Was she in some sort of trouble?
Caitlyn moved to the window over the kitchen sink and whirled around. “Cutting the price isn’t an option. Many of the repairs I can do on my own, but I’ll need to hire an electrician and plumber.”
“I can recommend a few.”
“I’d appreciate it.” She took a peek inside the journal then closed it shut. “Martha left around fifteen hundred dollars in her will for home repairs.”
Logan didn’t want to alarm Caitlyn, but given the problems they’d uncovered during their tour, the repairs would eat up the allocated funds in no time. Money could be an issue, or lack of, in Caitlyn’s case. He couldn’t let his brother’s friend make the repairs herself. “I can help you with most of the projects.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Caitlyn repositioned her stance. It wasn’t Logan’s imagination. She’d planted her feet against the floor, ready for a fight. Luke had always said Caitlyn was stubborn. His brother hadn’t been joking. The woman didn’t want his help, but she was kidding herself if she believed she could do everything on her own.
A crack of thunder sounded outside.
“We better get Henry inside. These storms can pack a punch.” Logan headed to the front door. Caitlyn tossed the journal as they moved past the dining room table.
“Wow! It’s pouring!” Henry flew in through the door the moment Logan pulled it open.
“You’re soaked,” Caitlyn said.
“I saw some towels in the upstairs hall closet. I’ll run and grab some,” Logan offered, running to the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Once at the top of the steps, the overhead lights flickered at the same time thunder rattled the walls. The surrounding space went dark. Rain pounded against the roof. A window at the end of the hall provided no outside light. No surprise there. From what Logan had seen during their walk-through of the farmhouse, every window needed a thorough cleaning.
He opened the closet door. A musty aroma shot up his nose. Logan fumbled in the dark space and snatched two bath towels before heading downstairs.
The entire first level of the house was as dark as the upper floor. “Here you go.” Logan handed off the towels to Caitlyn. “I better look around for some candles. There’s no telling how long we’ll be without power, so we don’t want to only rely on our phone flashlight.”
Inside the kitchen, Logan checked each drawer. Martha appeared to be a packrat. Every drawer was overflowing with odds and ends. Who needed four pairs of scissors? He threw them back and continued to work his way around the room.
“Have you found any candles? It’s getting darker outside.” Caitlyn entered the room with Henry at her side, swaddled in a towel.
“Not even a flashlight. But if you need any scissors, there’s no shortage of those.”
Caitlyn moved into the dining room and opened a drawer in the breakfront. “Here they are.” She pulled out a handful of tapered candles in a variety of colors.
“How did you know to look there?”
“Some people use their dining room table a couple times of the year for holidays or family gatherings. Usually, they’ll light candles for the occasion.” Caitlyn stuck one candle in each holder on the tabletop. “Now, if we can find some matches, we’ll be good to go.”
“I saw one of those long plastic lighters in the drawer beside the stove.” Logan scurried to the kitchen and grabbed the lighter. Seconds later, the candles’ warm glow softened the room.
“That’s much better.” Caitlyn pulled out a chair at the table and took a seat. She snatched the journal and scribbled inside.
“You must go through a lot of those,” Logan laughed.
Caitlyn’s face flushed. “I’m a little obsessed with notebooks and journals, so I stay well-stocked.”
“Mom plans everything,” Henry shared.
“Well, I hope you leave a little time for unexpected events. Sometimes they make the greatest memories.” Following the sudden loss of his fiancée, Logan had quickly learned that every day was a gift that no one should take for granted.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Caitlyn wiped her cheek and shook her head. “Something dripped on me?”
Logan looked up and spotted a large water stain on the ceiling. “That’s coming from the guest bathroom.”
“You didn’t leave the water running when you used the restroom, did you?” Caitlyn asked Henry.
“I don’t think so.” Henry took off up the stairs.
“Wait, you need some light.” Logan slipped his cell phone from his back pocket. He turned on the flashlight and chased after the child. Caitlyn followed, clutching her journal.
Inside the bathroom, water spilled over the top of the toilet, covering the floor.
“I didn’t mean to break it.” Henry blew out a sigh.
Logan squatted and reached for the valve to shut off the water flow. “It’s not your fault. The pipes in this house are old.”
Once again, Caitlyn put pen to paper, scribbling in her notebook. “Do you think every pipe will need to be replaced?” Her eyes darted around the room before focusing in Logan’s direction.
Logan stood and dusted off his jeans. “Of course, an inspection needs to be done, but my guess is yes. If you want to sell the property for a good price, new piping would be a wise investment.”
Henry moved to Logan’s side. “My mom doesn’t have any money.”
“Henry!” Caitlyn slammed the journal shut. “Please, if it’s okay, take Mr. Logan’s phone and go back down to the kitchen and wait for me.”
Logan nodded and passed the device.
Henry obeyed his mother’s command and scurried down the steps.
Years ago, Logan had his own financial struggles. Keeping them private was understandable. “My offer still stands. I’m sure you can handle some repairs on your own, but getting this place ready to list on the market is going to be a huge undertaking. There’s no way one person could do everything, especially if time is an issue. Please, let me help you.”
Caitlyn took a shuddery breath. “But I can’t pay you.”
Without a mortgage on the property, the proceeds from the sale could pay for the repairs and more, unless Caitlyn was flat broke and carrying debt. Her reaction to Henry’s comment caused Logan to believe that could be the case. An idea percolated in his mind. But would she go for it? He wasn’t so sure. Something told Logan that Caitlyn might have more than financial struggles hidden in her closet.
