As usual, I won’t mail this letter. Why bother anymore?
Maybe I’ve gotten maudlin since my Josiah passed away earlier this year because I seem to spend more time than I used to thinking of all the what ifs. Wondering if you’re happy. Wondering if you’re as lonely as me without your George. Wondering if your sweet precious granddaughters know who they are and where they come from.
Did Sara tell you she visited me the summer before they were born? Did she tell you who their father was? I’ve often wondered if she got pregnant here that summer or if she was already pregnant when she arrived. I’ll probably never know. I suppose she didn’t tell you either way. If they’re half shifters, I have to assume you would have banished Elena and Layla from your home. Sara would have kept that to herself.
So many questions. No answers. I’m so tired.
Love, Marge
Caleb’s hands were shaking and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He needed to be careful about what he said next and how he handled this. He lowered the letter slowly and met her gaze.
She immediately spoke first. “I can’t believe I never knew any of that.” Her voice was elevated. Cracking. “My mother came here? The summer before I was born? My father might even be someone in this town? I’m so furious.”
Caleb took a deep breath, thinking about what he might say.
Elena didn’t give him a chance. She kept speaking, voice higher, feet stomping around the room. “Why? This is all my grandmother’s fault. I bet my mother never told her she came to visit her aunt. Now I understand why she never told her who the father was either. She didn’t get pregnant from some guy in Denver who left her as soon as he found out. She got pregnant here. In Canyon Springs. She didn’t want Grandma Mabel to know.”
Caleb cleared his throat.
Elena spun around and faced him. She as furious. “I’d bet money my father is someone living in this town. Living. Dammit. A real person I could have known my entire life. If my mother hadn’t been scared of my grandmother.”
“He is.” Caleb uttered just those two words. He hadn’t wanted to tell her like this. He had hoped to explain it better. He had wracked his mind trying to think of a way to inform her without hurting her.
She flinched, taking a step back so abruptly that she stumbled and almost fell into the wall. “What? You know who my father is?” She shook her head as if to clear cobwebs.
“No. I have no idea who he might be. But I’d bet money he lives or lived in Canyon Springs. Especially since you found out your mother came here. I didn’t realize that at the time. I would have been five.”
“Why do you say that? How could you know that?”
He swallowed and took a step closer. He had no choice but to utter the words even though he knew he was about to shock her badly and possibly alienate her. “Because you’re half shifter.”
Chapter 17
Elena’s jaw dropped. She could do nothing but stare at Caleb and blink. Her brain worked frantically to process what he’d just said. “You can’t… I’m… How could you…” She couldn’t form a complete sentence.
He shuffled closer. She backed up. “Don’t you dare touch me right now, Caleb Tanner. I swear to God, I’m about five seconds from walking out the door and never looking back.”
He nodded, a tick forming in his jaw. Good. He should be worried. She was pissed. He held up both hands, palms out. “I won’t touch you. I promise. You’re right. And you have every right to be angry.”
She glared at him. “Start talking.”
“Not much to say. I know one of your parents was a wolf shifter because I can smell it on you.”
“You can fucking smell it on me?” Her voice rose even higher to a pitch that filled the room and made her ears ring.
He sucked in a breath. “Yes.”
“So you’ve known this the entire time. You knew it when you first scented me at the grocery store.”
“Yes.”
“And when exactly were you planning to tell me?”
“I was working up to it.”
“Caleb!” She shouted. “Working up to it? That must be the singularly most important thing in the world. Were you planning to tell me before or after you lured me the rest of the way in and cuffed me to some sort of iron manacle in your den?” She didn’t care that she was exaggerating. Fuck him.
He rubbed a hand down his face. “Before. I swear I wouldn’t have had sex with you until you knew everything.”
“Uh huh. I feel so relieved.” Sarcasm oozed. She cocked a hip out and set her hands on her waist. She needed to get out of here. She needed to get away from him. She had no idea what she needed.
“So much has been piled on your plate in just two days. I couldn’t imagine adding that fact to your list yet. I was putting it off. I didn’t realize your aunt suspected. I didn’t know your mother came to Canyon Springs twenty-five years ago. This isn’t the only place on earth where shifters live, of course. She could have met anyone anywhere on earth. From what you’ve said about your grandmother, it makes sense that she wouldn’t have told her. She probably hoped you two would grow up not knowing and not exhibiting any of the signs.”
“Signs?” Her voice squeaked again.
He licked his lips and inhaled slowly. His nervousness was palpable. He felt bad, but that didn’t mean she would forgive him for keeping this from her. “It’s like any other trait. Your DNA comes from both parents. Different things are dominant. In the case of shifters, some offspring have more abilities than others.”
She widened her eyes. “Are you suggesting I could shift?”
He shook his head. “No. I doubt it. You would have gone through a phase in puberty that would have included your first shift. If your grandmother was as prejudice as you’ve suggested, then you dodged a bullet. First of all, she wouldn’t have been able to help you understand and talk you through it. Second of all, she might have kicked you out of the house.”
Elena reached up with both hands, threaded them in the messy hair at the top of her head, and tugged. She was losing her mind. Thank God she was no longer wearing anything but a T-shirt. She might be willing to strike and kill if Caleb hadn’t returned her clothes.
He gave her a few seconds, and then he spoke again. “I’m sure you’ve noticed throughout your life that you have better senses than other people. Your sense of smell is stronger. And your instincts are better. You can read people.”
“I’d call that common sense,” she retorted.
He lifted a brow. “But it goes beyond that, doesn’t it?”
He was probably right, but she couldn’t think. Not here. Not in his house. His damn pheromones were everywhere, crowding her. Tempting her. Even in the face of a serious disagreement, he was indirectly controlling her. Luring her.
Fine. She didn’t give a rat’s ass if it was him or some mythical Fate who was steering her in his direction. What she did know was that she wanted to both jump into his arms so he could comfort her and kick him in the balls and walk away.
That last part felt a bit dramatic, but she decided she at least needed to leave. Now. Right now. Before she changed her mind.
Elena spun around in a circle, looking for her flip flops, which she found by the door. She raced over and snagged them, balancing on one foot to put the other on and then vice versa.
“Elena…”
She jerked her gaze up to meet his. “I have to get out of here, and you’re not coming with me.”
“Baby…”
“Don’t.” She held out a hand. “Don’t say another word. You have no right. You have to let me go.”
“Where? You don’t have a car or even a purse with you.”
“I don’t care. The town isn’t that big. I’ll walk.” She snagged her phone off the coffee table and stuck it in her back pocket. The letters could stay where they were. She’d deal with them later. Right now she needed to breathe.
She headed for the front door and yanked it open.
�
�Elena, please. I don’t like the thought of you wandering around town alone.”
She twisted her head over her shoulder. “Why? Is it unsafe? I was under the impression it was the safest place on earth. You said everyone in town knows who I am and what I am to you. Surely they will give me a wide birth and look the other way when they see the fury on my face.”
“No one will bother you,” he murmured.
“Right. Because you’re going to place one call and the Canyon Springs phone tree will spread like wildfire before I hit the sidewalk.” She couldn’t help being snarky.
He shook his head. “I won’t tell a soul. Promise. I can’t know if your sister knows all this yet. I’d rather let Hunter tell her than a stranger.”
Elena blinked at him. She hadn’t thought about Layla yet. Had Hunter told her they were half shifters yet? Had they had sex? Would he have told her before sleeping with her like Caleb insinuated?
It was too much to ponder at the moment, and besides, Elena didn’t feel like confronting Layla. She just wanted to be alone. She could speak to Layla later but not while she was so furious.
Caleb wasn’t the only person she was angry with either. He simply made the top of the immediate list. A lot of people had their hands in this insanity. Her grandmother, her grandfather, her great aunt. Her mother. And perhaps even her father, though that was less likely. “Let me go, Caleb,” she muttered as she stepped outside and slammed the door.
She could practically feel his gaze on her back through the front window. She didn’t care what he did as long as he didn’t follow her.
How dare he keep this important detail from her. He hadn’t been playing fairly. He should have told her the first night when he sat down at the bar next to her.
“Hey, baby. What’s a half shifter like yourself doing in a place like this?”
Okay, maybe that was cheesy, but the point was the opportunities had existed. Two days now. He’d known she wasn’t fully human for two days. She’d never been so infuriated.
As she stomped down the sidewalk, no particular destination in mind, she focused on the hurt, the anger, and the pain.
It was impossible to grasp that she had shifter blood in her body. Not that she minded. The idea was pretty cool in and of itself. But not knowing until today…
And what was Caleb thinking keeping that from her? She was furious with him. How would she be able to forgive him?
She needed to talk to Layla. Her sister deserved to know. It seemed important to reconnect with her. They’d been apart for too long. After reading about the deep sorrow that Marge felt for over fifty years because of her severed ties with Mabel, Elena absorbed that grief. She didn’t want that to happen between her and Layla. She wouldn’t let it happen.
There were so many unanswered questions. It seemed like the more answers she got, the more questions she had.
Her feet took her back to Marge’s house. Luckily, it was only a few miles. She didn’t mind. She needed the fresh air. It helped her clear her head a bit. Loosened some of the frustration. She was also acutely aware of the fact that the farther she got from Caleb, the more her anxiety rose.
If she was part shifter, that would explain several things, starting with the intensity of the draw to him. Sure, most people would think the entire mating concept was foreign and difficult to swallow, but on some level, Elena knew he was right. She was already connected to him.
She was also pissed with him. And she needed to milk that for a while. Let everything from the last two days simmer a bit. When she was with him, she couldn’t focus on anything but him and how badly she wanted to be closer. Always closer. Naked closer. Him-inside-her closer.
As she approached the house, she shook away thoughts of Caleb. She had other concerns right now. She was vaguely aware of other people either on their porches, walking down the sidewalk, or driving by. Some were staring. She ignored them.
As soon as she climbed the steps to the front porch and opened the front door, she called out. “Layla?”
It was entirely possible Layla wasn’t even dressed. If she was experiencing even half of what Elena was experiencing, she was far more likely to have already taken things to the next level.
There was no answer, and the house was silent. Deadly silent. Elena closed her eyes and took in a deep breath before freezing in her spot as she realized what she’d just done.
Could she sense other people? Yes. She could. She’d always been able to do so. It had never occurred to her that other people couldn’t. That she had a slightly unusual ability.
Growing up, Grandpa George had always joked that Elena and Layla had their own language. They seemed to speak without words. It was a common enough joke about twins in general, that no one ever thought much about it.
As Elena shut the door, she blew out a breath. Layla wasn’t in the house. Neither was Hunter. They hadn’t been there for a while. And why did she know this?
She considered calling Layla or texting her, but then opted not to. If she had found her face to face, she would have come inside in a rage, but Layla wasn’t here, and Elena wasn’t going to risk explaining this strange new information over the phone.
Somehow it didn’t even seem like her place. It was Hunter’s place to fill her in. Maybe he already had and Layla was currently raging against him the same way Elena had yelled at Caleb.
Elena wandered farther into the house. It felt like she was seeing it through new eyes. Now that she’d read Marge’s letters, she felt more connected to this aunt she never knew. Sad too.
Elena dragged her fingers along the bookshelves and picked up several trinkets, trying to imagine Marge’s life. She spent some time taking in the pictures on the walls next. Photos of Marge and Josiah. People she didn’t know. She assumed they might be Josiah’s nieces and nephews. His siblings.
Elena vowed to find these relatives. Even though they weren’t related to her by blood, they knew her great aunt. She wanted to know more. Suddenly this trip to sell off the belongings of an unknown relative seemed preposterous. Her plan to use the extra cashflow to keep her rent paid for a few more months was callus in light of all the new information.
The photo albums Elena had been looking at earlier still sat on the coffee table, though it was apparent Layla had looked through some of them too.
After settling on the couch once more, Elena picked up an album, this time perusing it slower, really soaking in Marge’s expressions, wanting to know this woman better.
Her anger had taken a backseat. Not that she was less furious with Caleb, but that she needed to deal with Marge’s influence on her first. She could deal with Caleb later.
Marge was so incredibly similar to Mabel in so many ways. They even wore their hair the same in their later years. And, if Elena wasn’t mistaken, Marge had the same furrowed brow Mabel had always had. Was the matching expression simply part of their genetics? Or had they both suffered from this horrible loss for most of their lives?
Elena wanted to know more. The journalist in her was filled with curiosity. When she leaned back and closed her eyes, flashes of these women’s childhood came to mind. Not that she had many pictures. After all, they were born just before World War II. But there were some. And Elena used her imagination.
Maybe Elena was really remembering her own carefree days and nights spent with an identical twin. She had always considered herself fortunate to have been raised by her grandparents after the death of her mother. There had been good times and laughter in the house. She knew Mabel adored both girls and loved them to pieces.
Elena had never seriously considered why Mabel had been estranged from her sister. It had never seemed reasonable, but she hadn’t questioned it. Mabel had grumbled about her sister’s poor choices, but she wasn’t open to discussing it. She would wave a hand through the air and say, “Oh, goodness. That was years ago. An old lady like me doesn’t need to dig up old wounds.”
What wounds? Was Mabel jealous of her sister? Did she feel abandoned by
her? Angry that she’d found someone and never returned home? Maybe the two of them had fought about something.
It was possible Elena would never find the answers. It was possible Mabel had simply been the most stubborn, prejudiced person alive. It was so tragic.
Elena suddenly felt like she needed to take notes. As if she were trying to solve a mystery. As if she were a detective. Or…a journalist. She rose from the sofa, padded to the kitchen, and found some paper and pens in a drawer.
She sat down at the kitchen table next and started taking notes. She itemized the things she knew and the questions she had. The people she might ask. The holes in the story. She didn’t even notice the sun going down until she couldn’t see the paper as well. Instead of turning on the lights, she wandered back to the living room and sat on the couch again, curling into the corner and resting her head on the arm.
She continued thinking. She wanted more. She wanted it all. She wanted to write about it. Organize it. Use the letters and interview people and gather data and write a book.
Her heart was racing as she realized exactly what she needed to so.
Write the story of Marge’s life.
Could she to it? Write a book?
Chapter 18
Caleb had never been more nervous in his life as he was when he stepped into Marge’s house later that evening. He had knocked, but no one had answered. The door was unlocked, so he let himself in. No lights were on, but he knew in a second that Elena was in the room. Besides, his vision was phenomenal in the dark, so his eyes adjusted immediately.
His mate was curled up in the corner of the couch, hands tucked under her cheek where she rested her head on the arm of the sofa. She was sound asleep, and she looked so peaceful. Her expression didn’t hold the furrowed brow of someone who’d nodded off angry or crying.
His precious mate was so gorgeous. For several moments, he simply stood there soaking her in, wondering how she would react when she realized he was there.
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