Arthur Nelson Protected His Wyoming Mountain Cabin with a Trust

“With what?” George asked, his voice quiet and hard. “You do not have a pot to slip in, Vince. You never have.” “Save it for the station,” Deputy Miller said, stepping forward with his leather boots crunching heavily on the loose stone. The deputy reached behind his belt, the silver chain of the handcuffs clinking…

“You can thank Sarah Finch for that,” I said. “She was the one who found the Arizona filings on the microfiche.” Henry reached out his right hand, his fingers thick and scarred from sixty years of pulling calves and fixing machinery. He gripped my hand in a squeeze that was surprisingly strong for a man…

He did not move for a long minute. Then he slowly pushed himself up using the handrail, his joints making a dry, cracking sound. “You always were the tough one,” he said. “I learned it here,” I said. He walked down the steps without looking back, his heavy boots dragging slightly on the concrete. He…

“You let her take everything because it was easier than fighting,” I said. He did not answer, his eyes fixed on the empty space on the wall where Gordon’s oil paintings used to hang. He was just beginning to see how much his silence had cost him, his inheritance gone and his marriage over, while…

Margret pushed three copies of the divorce petition and the asset division agreement toward Donald. “We require his signature on every page of section four.” Donald took the documents and his gold pen, then left the room without another word. I watched the door close again. The forty-one thousand dollars was gone, but the five…

He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a small, folded piece of blue paper. “I wanted to give you this,” he said, holding it out toward me. “It is not much, but it is from my personal account.” I looked at the blue paper, recognizing the bank logo on the corner of the…