Page 6 of Wolf's Rejected Mate

Flipping the card over, I read the inscription, my confusion mounting at the sight of the even letters.

It’s been a while, Elijah. Don’t you think you should come home now?

Chapter3

Elijah

Itried not to think about the postcard over the next few days as I tended to my chimp crops and my chickens. But the words were etched in the back of my mind no matter what I did or where I went.

My customers stopped by for their usual pickups, and I popped by the local haunts, the gun range, and the sheriff to drop off their orders. Everyone in town partook in my product and had for generations. I was as much a staple in Seven Rock as Laramie’s Laundry or Cote’s Fine Chickenry.

Which was what made that damned postcard so much more daunting.

It had to be some kind of stupid joke, perpetrated by one of the boys. Who knew how teenagers thought? I hadn’t been one in gods only knew how many years. I’d been a full-grown man when I’d clawed my way out of that dirt grave two centuries ago, although I couldn’t be sure just how old I was then. I couldn’t even be certain how many years had passed since I’d found myself in Seven Rock after spending five decades crawling from one place to the next, trying to understand where home was, who I was. Time had lost its meaning for me a long time ago.

But staring at the postcard had done something to me that I hadn’t experienced in years. It had triggered a response from the deepest recesses of my broken memory, a flash of elusiveness that was going to drive me crazy until I found answers.

And I wasn’t going to stop thinking about it until I got to the bottom of why it was driving me so crazy.

I had to go to Pario City—wherever the hell that was.

Three days after the postcard arrived, I made my decision and got my affairs in order. I called on Thorald to sit on the crops and house, but he drew the line at manning the chickens.

“I’m not watching those shitters and that damn rooster—he cock-a-doodle-doos funny,” Thorald complained. “If you want me to run things here while you’re off chasing hookers, I’m not doing it with the damn birds here.”

“Chasing hookers?” I repeated, blinking. “I’m going to Pario City.”

“That’s what I said,” he drawled, winking slyly.

Gritting my teeth, I shoved as much as I could into a burlap pack before heading across the road to Waverly’s farm, half a mile from my property.

The old horse shifter eyed me skeptically, his feelings for me thinly veiled behind his rheumy, aging eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked gruffly.

“I’m leaving town for a… a while,” I told him. “I need someone to keep an eye on the animals when I’m gone. Can I run them this way for a few days?”

Waverly’s brow shot up. “You’re leaving town?” he echoed slowly. “I didn’t know you did that.”

The response annoyed me more than it should have.

“I’ve got some business to take care of,” I growled. “Can you take care of the birds or what?”

Waverly appeared unbothered. “Don’t see why not,” he agreed slowly. “Who’s gonna take care of your… crops?”

I smirked, glancing over my shoulder toward the road where Thorald had already set up camp in my garage.

“I won’t be gone that long, old timer,” I reassured him, swiveling my head back. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Waverly snorted. “You think I want any part of your dirty business, Mr. Webb? Seven Rock used to be a nice place before you came ‘round.”

I hissed lightly, whipping my head closer to him, eyes narrowing.

“I’ve been here since before you were born, Waverly,” I reminded him. “And your daddy didn’t seem to have any trouble with the products I sold.”

Waverly paled, but I didn’t give him a chance to argue as I spun around and headed back toward my house to gather my belongings.

“Hey!” Waverly yelled.

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