Page 1 of Rough and Rugged
Chapter One
Axton
Oneacre,EagleMoon,Wisconsin, for sale for one dollar.
One dollar!
At first, I’d thought it was a joke. Who’d sell land for a dollar? But I took the chance anyway and emailed the person.
While I waited for a response, I went on Google Maps and located Eagle Moon. To my surprise, it wasn’t a town, but an area in the most northern part of Wisconsin, near the Upper Peninsula. In the bird’s eye view, it was mostly woods, with a small inlet to Lake Superior.
A rush of excitement slid through me at the idea that I, at twenty-eight, could finally have a place of my own. A life without Aunt Coreen always breathing down my neck about watching her three kids, as though I was their manny. Or the household tasks—on top of working at Ben’s Bakery in the early hours most mornings. Like I wanted to come home from pre-dawn baking, and babysit my young cousins, or clean.
I was done with my aunt’s abuse, and waited anxiously to hear from the seller of the property. But there’d been no response. Not in a day. Or in a week. Not even a month. So, I gave up hope and decided the ad had been a joke after all.
Just like my life.
Resolved to forget about the property, I continued on with my dreary routine of working, taking care of family, and household chores.
Yeah, I was a modern day Cinderfella, don’t you know. But what could I do when I was stuck there until I had enough money to get out from under my aunt’s oppressive thumb?
Two and half months later, a notification pinged on my cell phone while I was at work. An email I’d given up on receiving popped into my inbox. I excused myself to the bathroom and opened it with nervous enthusiasm.
DearestMr. Axton Fields,
I’m sorry it took me a while to respond to your email. You and several hundred other people answered my ad. After looking through each detail, I’ve decided to sell my precious piece of heaven to you. If you are still interested in the property, I can snail mail you the information, the form, the stipulations you need to abide by, and my address. If you agree, you can sign the form and mail me the check for one dollar.
I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Sincerely,
Frances Beckett
A whirlwind of emotions flew around in my chest as I tried to calm my racing heart. I didn’t understand what she meant about the stipulations. But I wasn’t going to worry until I’d received the packet. All that mattered was the property was mine, if I wanted it.
And I did. With my heart, body, and soul.
I quickly emailed Frances to accept. I’d asked her to send everything to the bakery, knowing that if Aunt Coreen got wind of this, she’d destroy the paperwork without my knowledge. Yes, she was that mean.
It took another full week before I received the packet. After reading over the paperwork, which seemed straightforward, I read through the stipulations Frances had set.
One. You can’t sell the land to anyone, not without offering it to one of the Beckett family first.
Two. You can only cut down dying or dead trees, approved by the tree specialist. The phone number for the specialist is listed in the sales contract.
Three. You only have a year to fix all the things wrong with the house (see attachment to the sales contract). If you fail to complete the repairs, you lose all rights to the property, ownership will revert back to Frances Beckett, and you’ll have to move out.
The last stipulation made me pause. But after reviewing the list of repairs and what I’d saved up in the past fifteen years, it seemed easy enough to accomplish. Besides, I had a year to fix everything. How hard could it be?
Even though I didn’t need her approval, I talked it over with Mrs. Muller, a neighbor who was like a grandmother to me. She’d been my constant supporter, especially when I needed time away from my aunt. I’d miss her when I left.
Mrs. Muller was so excited about my move she offered me her old conversion van for free—if I promised to keep in touch. I couldn’t refuse.
After signing on the dotted line in front of a notary I knew wouldn’t blab to Aunt Coreen, I sent the paperwork back, along with a certified check for one dollar. I just had to wait for the key to my new home.
To think, I would soon start my new life where no one would dictate what I could do. Or be tied down by family who saw me only as a babysitter, a maid, a cook, and a verbal whipping boy. A life where I could do anything I wanted.
Within a week, an envelope arrived containing keys, a detailed map and the land deed. Eagerness filled me as I stared at the precious things in my hand. It had been almost three months since I first spotted the tiny listing online, but it was worth the wait.