Arthur Nelson Protected His Wyoming Mountain Cabin with a Trust
She turned around, her eyes red around the edges, and looked at the yellow paper. Her hand went still on her ring.
“This is a list of every time your husband used a power of attorney with my name on it,” I said. “The bank in Denver has the records, and the lawyer in Cody has the copies.”
“Dad,” she whispered, her voice dropping into her collar. “He said it was just a temporary arrangement to get us through the spring.”
“He forged my name, Bula,” I said. “He did it before we even loaded the truck in Colorado.”
She did not answer, but her shoulders dropped three inches as she looked down at the gravel driveway.
“The cabin belongs to the trust now, Bula,” I said. “It is not my personal asset anymore, which means it cannot be sold to pay off his debts.”
“He said we would lose everything if we did not come to Wyoming,” she said.
