Heat Race - Tanya Chris Page 0,58

Everything except the money, the bundle of love notes, and that last note. The one that wasn’t loving at all.

He didn’t know why he’d taken the notes, what purpose they could serve. The money, yes. With Jasper and Jack Henry and Elias all working and Alice always sending food from the farm, the pack was surviving just fine. They had everything they needed, which wasn’t much, but none of it came from Saul. He was glad to have a little cash in his pocket.

But the stuff in his other pocket? What was the point? Alice had given him a resurgent longing for the mother he’d written off—or tried to write off—long ago, but even if he could find her, he wouldn’t want her. It was too late for her to be his mom.

Jasper turned the bike into the parking lot for a tavern. He put down the kickstand and pulled off his helmet. Saul removed his own helmet and took a moment to nuzzle into the warmth of Jasper’s throat. Someone coming out of the tavern gave them a disapproving look, so he stopped scenting Jasper and got off the bike. Back in Galvetta, everyone had gotten used to them, and the ones who disapproved stayed in town where Saul didn’t have to deal with them. Seeing his father had been a sad reminder that the rest of the world wasn’t as accepting of alpha/alpha love.

They went into the tavern and ate brisket sandwiches that were surprisingly good. Jasper ordered a soda since they were on the bike, but Saul washed his down with a beer. Fortified by a light buzz, he pulled out his mother’s goodbye note and read it by the dim light of a wall-mounted lantern.

“Get anything out of it?” Jasper asked.

“Nothing useful.” Saul handed him the note, which was as terse and lacking in information as he remembered. I’m leaving. Don’t expect me back. Listen to your father. To counteract the burn of such a cold dismissal, he pulled out some of the other notes to read. When Jasper reached for one of those, he guarded it reflexively.

“She used to leave these in my lunchbox,” he said as he relented and let Jasper have one. Jasper wasn’t going to hurt it, only read it.

“This is so sweet. Sounds like it was written by an entirely different person.”

Saul nodded.

“It’s not even the same handwriting,” Jasper pointed out. All the notes were printed, because he’d only been eight, so the handwriting wasn’t very distinctive. But when Saul compared the love notes to the goodbye note, he saw what Jasper meant. The printing on the love notes was big—intentionally clear and blocky, like it’d been written for a child—while the letters on the goodbye note were smaller and less well formed.

“She must’ve been rushing,” Saul said.

“Or she knew who else would be reading this. Where was your mom from originally?”

Saul shook his head. He couldn’t remember the name of her hometown or summon any information about it other than that it was “too far.” That was what his father had always said when his mother wanted to go for a visit. She’d talked about it from time to time, but his memory was limited by an eight-year-old’s understanding of geography, which hadn’t extend much beyond Ferris’s town line.

“Does it matter?”

“She might’ve gone home. And I have a theory that we’re all direct descendants of former pack founders. Just trying to figure out what makes us us.”

Fate, luck. Saul didn’t know. He was just glad it’d happened. That sad, disheveled house and his angry, disapproving father had given him a fresh wave of appreciation for everything Jasper had rescued him from. His life was so happy now. He had everything he needed. Did he really need a mother too?

By the time they got back to the land, the cabin was dark and quiet. Jasper held a finger to his lips to warn Saul not to wake their mates and Saul nodded, lingering in the darkness outside the cabin because he wasn’t ready to sleep yet. All those miles pressed against Jasper’s back had stirred up appetites that couldn’t be satisfied by a tavern.

Jasper tugged on his sleeve to pull him away from the door. They wandered over to the other house, which towered over them in a wall-less shell of framing and pipework. The new house was going to have a lot of bedrooms—for children or other pack members—and the four of them would sleep in a loft at the