Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table

“Thank you for the clear numbers,” I said.

“Enjoy your new acreage,” Gable said.

I walked out of the strip mall office and got back into my new truck.

The paved county road turned into a steep gravel track as I drove forty minutes north out of town.

My new property was four hundred acres of raw timber in the foothills.

I had no neighbors, no passing traffic, and absolutely no land developers anywhere near my boundary lines.

The property was nothing but towering pine trees, granite ridges, and a small winding creek.