Page 8 of Wrong Number, Right Cougar

“Or you could buy Old Man Blaze’s.”

“As if I have that kind of money.” I had some money, but not compete-against-city-buyer money. “Do you know anything about the new owner?” Maybe that could give me an edge. And yes, I was grasping at straws.

“Nah, not really.” I tapped on my phone and put in Blaze’s full name and “relatives.” I didn’t know why I thought that would work—but it didn’t, because how could it. “One thing’s for sure—I gotta do something.”

“And what would that something be?” He smirked.

“I have not a clue.” I stood up. “Glad I was able to amuse you today.”

“Happy to be amused.”

I drove back home where I spent the next few days having a pity party for one. Was it healthy? Absolutely not. Was I able to pull myself out of it? Nope.

And it wasn’t just me. My cougar was off, and I couldn’t understand why. Every day he shifted, hunted, and wandered back to the resort. Maybe… maybe I did need to figure out a way to buy it. That was the only way to save it, and my cougar felt very strongly about it all of a sudden.

Today was different. I wasn’t sure how, but it was. I went from sitting on my porch with my coffee to walking toward the resort. I wasn’t even sure why. It wasn’t like my cougar wasn’t going to head that way later on.

Or right then, because midway, my cougar forced a shift, one I didn’t feel coming. One minute I was walking, and the next one, fur. He usually didn’t force his way out like that, and I always had some sort of advance notice. But not today.

And the second we took our fur, I understood why.

He scented our mate.

And as we got closer, I saw the car. It… it wasn’t local.

This was definitely the new owner.

And he was mine.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse.

Fate was a bitch like that.

5

THORN

I’d intended to arrive at Cougar Lake in the late afternoon, but because I’d stopped for lunch on the way, and then a coffee, and to take photos, it was dark when I drove along the main street.

Not knowing if there was a room at the lodge—Noah had said it was rundown—I’d booked a motel for the night. When I checked in, the manager asked if I’d eaten dinner, and when I told him no, he checked his watch and said the grocery store was closing in ten minutes and the diner in an hour.

He gave me directions along with my room key, and I dashed to the supermarket and bought fruit, cereal, and milk for the morning. I ordered a burger and fries at the diner that was almost empty. As Saul, the waiter, wasn’t busy, he was willing to chat, and I asked about the lodge.

Tears filled his eyes when he mentioned Alexei. I didn’t correct him. From what Noah had said, the townspeople knew that wasn’t my godfather’s real name, but he added a dash of color and a hint of intrigue to the town, and he was well-loved.

“I miss him. Alexei used to eat here at least once a week. He used to regale us with stories of his early life, but I got the feeling there was a lot of pain that he pushed away.”

Being labeled the black sheep might do that, not that I understood what my uncle had done to deserve that title.

“Tell me about the lodge. Can I book a room?” Noah hadn’t provided me with many details about the place, and while I had found the lodge website, it said the place was closed. I didn’t mind holes in the carpet and a threadbare bedspread as long as I could lock the door.

“Nah, it’s closed. Has been for a while since Alexei got sick. But you might be able to stay in the main house.”

Uncle should have contacted the family or me. We could have arranged for him to be looked after.

“The town rallied, and there was always someone with him.” His faraway gaze suggested he was perhaps thinking of happier times.

He gave me a lot to think about. If the lodge was in such a bad state, I might not get much from selling it, unless it was better to tear it down and sell the land.

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