Arthur Nelson Protected His Wyoming Mountain Cabin with a Trust
Sometimes you have to let go of old tools to build a new defense, Edwin said.
I will buy them back when this is over, I said.
They will be right here, Edwin said.
He walked me out to the truck, his hand resting on my shoulder for a brief second before he turned back to his barn.
The low-fuel light on my dashboard began to flicker just as I reached the gravel driveway of the cabin.
Cornelius Vaughn was standing near the front porch, leaning against his dark blue SUV. He was wearing a grey fleece vest and checking his smart watch.
He watched me get out of the truck. His face carried a thin, dry smile.
The bank in Denver called my office this morning, Cornelius said.
I know, I said.
They wanted to verify the signature on the secondary account, Cornelius said.
He took a step closer, his leather shoes crunching on the gravel.
It is a shame about the freeze, Arthur, he said. It must be hard to run a household without any operating capital.
