Seeking Shelter by Angel Smits Page A

intentions.”
    Intentions? What century was this guy from? And people thought Rattlesnake Bend was the backward small town? “Who are you?” Something nagged at her memory. What kind of company had a name like that? It sounded almost like—she turned to the pile of mail on the desk and rifled through it—a lawyer. It had to be.
    She tried to find the legal papers that had arrived several weeks ago. She knew they were here somewhere. She’d meant to give them to Hank, to go with the rest of the files he kept of her mother’s. Realizing the man was still on the line, she repeated the question he hadn’t yet answered. “Hello? Who are you again?”
    “I’m here, Miss Grey. Sorry. I’m an attorney. You probably don’t remember me, but you used to come to my office with your mother.”
    “You knew my mom?”
    “Years ago, yes. She used to be one of my clients.”
    Used to be, as in she’d fired him? Or her death had severed the arrangement? “I’m sorry. I...I don’t remember. And I don’t know much about my mother’s business.” She was telling the truth. Mom hadn’t had much business sense, but she’d had the ranch. Was that what this was about? Amy couldn’t think of what else it could be.
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Haase.” She wished for a customer—anything—to give her an excuse to hang up. “You’ll need to talk to Hank Benton. He handles all my mother’s business.”
    “No, Miss Grey. I’m sorry I didn’t make myself clear. I worked mostly with your mother, but this is actually about your father’s estate.”
    If her heart had faltered before, it seemed to completely stall now. “His...what?”
    Jace had known her father. He’d said so. “Estate” meant her father was dead, didn’t it? Why hadn’t he mentioned it? Maybe she should have opened the letter sooner.
    She glanced unseeingly at the front window of the store, in the direction of the garage where Jace was working on his motorcycle. Then something else clicked in her mind.
    This man knew Jace as well? What did that mean? What the hell was going on?
    “Mr. Haase? Why are you calling me?” A part of her didn’t want to hear this, but she knew there was no avoiding it.
    “I...I’m sorry, Miss Grey. Your father passed away a couple of months ago. I sent you and your mother a letter—”
    “My mother’s been gone for nearly ten years.”
    The silence was heavy with the man’s shock. “I’m...I’m so sorry. I liked Madeline.”
    What kind of friend hadn’t known she had died? Amy didn’t know what to say to him, what to ask next.
    “Have you been able to read through the documents I sent you?”
    “Uh, not yet.” She really needed to find those papers and read them.
    The man cleared his throat. “I can give you the basics. Your father named Mr. Holmes as his sole heir. I was checking to see if you plan to contest the will.”
    “I... Do you think I should?” Jace hadn’t mentioned a thing about it. Was he hiding the information, or did he assume she’d read the papers and knew?
    The attorney paused for another long moment, as if considering what to say. “I can’t advise you on that, as I represent your father’s estate. I was just trying to close up the files.”
    She didn’t know anything about her father, not even what he’d done for a living. She cringed, knowing she sounded shallow, but she had to ask. “What exactly did he leave him?”
    “There wasn’t much, I’m afraid. Your father was homeless for over ten years. The few things that were with him when he died barely fit into his old shopping cart.”
    The image of her father finding her in the shopping mall collided with this image, shattering them both.
    “Then why would I contest the will?” Wouldn’t that cost money, at least in attorney’s fees? Yeah, like she had extra cash just lying around.
    “He was your father, and it is your right.”
    It sounded more like the attorney was trying to drum up business for himself rather than help her.