Page 8 of Goalie and the Girl Next Door
I stayed.
I didn’t know what I was doing, but Maple Falls seemed like the right kind of place to figure it out. Creating a safe space for myself in a small town with all its charm was the perfect way to mend the many parts of me that hurt.
Angel needed help with the books at Happy Horizons. Word got around that there was at last a new accountant in town and I picked up individual clients. Then the Town Hall offered part-time gigs, Maple Fest became my favorite time of year, and Maple Grounds started holding my favorite scone until 9:05.
Somewhere along the way, this became home.
And now some billionaire I’ve never met wants to erase it. Turn it into luxury condos or an elevated retail village, or who-knows-whatever-else.
No.
Time to dig into the online world. By the time Ashlyn comes back, I have the start of some answers.
“I did a little search,” I jump in before she’s even sitting down. “It turns out that in the state of Washington there’s no statute of limitations for claiming an inheritance. If VictorMacDonald’s heir is for real, he rightly owns the land that belonged to his ancestor.”
Her jaw drops. “Marcy, that’s half the town.”
I nod my head slowly. “I know it. But I’m going to look into whether there might not be laws governing the preservation of the town from a fiscal angle. Barring that, the only thing I can think of is trying to come up with a large enough sum of money so the town can offer to buy the land from him.”
“How much do you think an acre of land costs around here?”
I’m afraid to tell her. “It would depend where the land is located. If it’s in town, it’ll be worth more because it can be used for businesses. If it’s remote, then less.” I do the calculations in my head. “I’d guess on average it’s around five thousand dollars an acre.”
Her shoulders sag slightly, like I’ve just confirmed what she dreaded. “Alexander MacDonald left five hundred acres. That would be two point five million dollars! How in the world would we ever be able to raise that much?”
“Even if wecouldraise it,” I say, “he’d have no obligation to take it.”
“But if we make a big enough offer, then he could invest in a town where he could make more money than he could ever make in Maple Falls.”
“How much time do you think we have before this guy shows up in Maple Falls?” I ask, a plan starting to take shape.
“I have no idea. But the lawyer made it sound like he wants to move fast.”
“Let me see what I can find out from the fiscal side, because otherwise, you might need to make the offer before we have the actual money. Either way though, you’re going to have to tell the town about this soon.”
“You’re right,” she nods. “If you can’t find a solution, then I can’t solve this on my own. We’d need the support of everyone.”
If MacDonald’s claim holds, the town is sitting on a legal powder keg, and the only way to defuse it is buried somewhere in decades of misfiled land records.
“I’m on it, Ms. Thompkins. You can count on me. I’ll stop by City Hall later to collect the necessary documents.”
When I set my mind to it, whether it be saving my dignity or my new hometown, I don’t give up. A dog with a bone, and I’m not the least ashamed of it.
Once Marcy Fontaine is in, she’sall in.
I rise from the chair, straightening my blazer like armor. This is what I do. I fix things. I find the loose threads no one else sees and I pull until the whole thing unravels.
For once, I’m not fixing someone else’s mess. Maple Falls may not have been part of my plan, but it’s mine now, and no billionaire is going to take it from me.
I just have to focus. No distractions. And that includes a disastrously handsome, impossibly obnoxious Frenchman who has suddenly taken up space rent-free in my head.
CHAPTER 4
CLÉMENT
The realtor dangles a set of keys in front of me.
“There you go, Monsieur Rivière. It’s official now.”
