Page 47 of Salvation

I already have lost everything,Todd wanted to say.

He crumpled up his napkin and stood. That morning, he’d woken up feeling like he could leap over the saloon in a single bound. Now, he felt creaky and spent. Recognizing his mate was easy. Knowing what to do about it was the hard part.

“Where you going?” Soren arched an eyebrow.

Where else? He pointed toward the back room. Maybe an hour of sanding would help him figure something out.

Soren shook his head and took the last sip of his coffee, then stood. “Not today. Jessica and Sarah really want the garage finished. We need to clear the last of the junk out.”

“Now?”

Soren shrugged and headed out. “The baby’s napping. No better time.”

Such a simple statement, yet one that prompted such a heavy feeling of loss. Todd scowled as he followed Soren out the back. He was just a puppet in fate’s hands. A tool. Why would he ever drag Anna into a life as messed up as that?

“All this crap has to go,” Soren said, motioning toward the heap in the garage.

Todd wondered if it was time for him to go, too.

Gotta stay. Gotta keep our mate safe.

“We’re only keeping the useful stuff,” Soren went on.

He nodded quietly. Yeah, he got the message. Right now, he was useful. But as soon as they tracked down that rogue wolf and ensured the clan’s safety, he’d be superfluous, too. Just like the dusty black-and-white TV set he carried on the first trip over to Soren’s truck or the boxes of old magazines. They’d had their day to shine. Now they were faded and worn.

A lot like him.

“On three,” Soren said, and they both lifted a steel workbench covered in cobwebs. There was a lot of sawdust, too, and the smell transported him to the mill at home.

Home. Maybe he would head back to Montana, after all. He could go back to bear form and live in a den, or he could fix up a cabin somewhere way out in the woods.

Not going anywhere without Anna,his bear growled.

“I can’t understand what the previous owners ever did with all this stuff,” Soren sighed. There were empty jars, snowshoes, and even a set of golf clubs.

Todd eyed the clutter. Yeah, there was a lesson in that. Whatever he decided to do, he’d keep it simple.

A vision flashed before his eyes: him, sitting on the porch of a painfully empty cabin, stroking a long, gray beard. Jesus, he’d turn into one of those loony hermits the mountains were full of.

Just talk to her,his bear said.

Soren pulled one of the golf clubs out and swung it like a bat. “Maybe we should keep one of these around. Keep the troublemakers away.” Then he laughed and stuck it in the back of the pickup. “Of course, bear claws work pretty well for that, too.”

Todd flexed his right hand involuntarily. Yeah, bear claws were good if they worked, but he wasn’t sure he could extend his.

Soren’s head snapped right, and he jogged over to the saloon. Either the baby had just woken up, or the phone was ringing. Whatever it was, Todd hadn’t heard it. He itched to pull out the glass jars and throw them against the wall one by one. Instead, he settled for slamming a rusty old rake into the back of the pickup. Then he looked around for something else to smash, bend, or break, but all he found was an old Formica countertop. He was just thumping it into the truck when Soren came out with Teddy in his arms.

When Soren stepped close, Teddy reached a hand out to grab Todd’s ear, and he froze. His son, reaching out to him? For him?

The baby stopped short and grabbed Soren’s beard instead.

“Little rug rat,” Soren murmured, nuzzling the baby with his chin.

Todd dropped his gaze. Yeah, he got the picture, all right. An idyllic father-son relationship he played no part in. All he could do was ruin it.

“You mind if we finish up later?” Soren asked, turning away. “Little guy’s hungry. Gotta go find Mommy. Right, Teddy?”

Todd watched them go, aching inside. No, he’d never be a part of that baby’s life. But he couldn’t just walk away, either. He needed the baby to know he cared.

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