Page 15 of A Surprise Baby for the Wolf Shifter

Already, I was off to a horrible start as a mother.

“I hope so. Please feel better. I’ll cover for you this weekend, but you owe me. Big time,” she said.

“I understand. I won’t let you down,” I promised.

“Uh-huh,” she muttered. “Bring the note in with you on Monday.”

“I will,” I said.

The call ended.

I hated lying to my boss, but my excuse was the best I was able to come up with, on such short notice.

As it was, a short doctor’s visit later, I had a note in hand which excused me from work for the weekend. I had the next few days to find Weylan and tell him our one night came with something a little extra. And then we needed to decide how to proceed with this news.

My anxieties were getting the best of me. And it made it difficult to sleep. Between the nerves from seeing Weylan again, and the morning sickness recking havoc on my body, I was exhausted. Eventually, the sun rose, and I pulled myself out of bed. I still managed to toss my bags into my car first thing after breakfast and headed for a little town called Idaho Springs. All without visiting the throne.

I recalled him telling me about his home that fateful night. We shared much of our lives with each other. Strange for a one-night stand, for sure. At least, I thought so. It wasn’t anywhere close to the stories I had heard. But I didn’t mind. It was nice to learn something about someone, even if I was never going to see them again.

Little did I know then how useful that information was going to be now. But I was glad I had narrowed the whole of Colorado to a simple, small town a little less than an hour away. Surely someone there would know him.

With luck, I would soon find out.

I had tossed my bags into the backseat of my car and hit the road first thing the next morning. It wasn’t much longer when I pulled into the parking lot of the hotel within the town’s limits. From the outside, it didn’t look like much. Just a beat-down single-floor inn that had seen its glory days come and gone. It was also the only thing I managed to book for my last-minute trip. I counted my blessings because I had booked their last room. The place was also the only hotel available.

I figured there must have been some sort of celebration going on over the weekend. Though looking at the town, I couldn’t tell.

Regardless, once I finished checking in and hauling my stuff inside my room, I started walking along the only main street in town in hopes that I might just bump into him. After all, all I had was his first name and the town he was from. It just so happened his name wasn’t very common, so the likelihood of more than one Weylan living in this town was slim to none.

Probably.

A passerby, dressed in a flannel button-up t-shirt and faded blue jeans walked in my direction. He appeared to me as the epitome of a farmer. I almost chuckled. He nodded and smiled at me.

“Morning,” he said.

I smiled in return and said, “Morning, if you have a moment, I was hoping you could help point me in the right direction.”

He stopped. “Needing a little help getting where you’re going? Whereabouts are you heading?”

“Well, sort of,” I said. “You wouldn’t happen to know of anyone by the name of Weylan, would you, or where I might possibly find him?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he squinted. His lips curved downward in an expression that wasn’t quite a frown. In fact, it bordered on disgust. I sighed. He shifted his gaze to the sidewalk, as though the answer was written on it. Then he shook his head and said, “Can’t say that I do. Good luck though.”

“Thank you,” I said and sighed.

He walked off and I took a moment to stare at my surroundings. This was going to be a very long process. One where a single weekend might not be enough. But I wasn’t going to let that deter me.

The houses across the street looked inviting. I wondered if he lived in one of them. I wasn’t about to go door to door to find out. I wasn’t an idiot. The store fronts that nearly formed a straight line on the other side of the street could hold some sort of diner. He didn’t strike me as the breakfast type, but then again, he probably did. I really didn’t know all that much about him, despite how much we shared with each other.

I had one direction to go, and that was farther down the street. And that’s exactly the direction I took. With time working against me, I still hoped the weekend would result in a direction to go.

I came across several other locals. All with the same answer.

It seemed like I had spent hours walking on the sidewalk, asking everyone I passed if they knew him or where to find him. I had asked almost every single person who glanced my way. No one had a clue about who I was talking about.

I was starting to get the impression that this was a wasted trip. Because either he lied about where he was from, which was understandable, everyone seemed to keep to themselves—again, understandable—or he didn’t socialize with the locals. That didn’t seem like him. But maybe it was. What did I know? I only knew the man for one incredibly blissful night.

About another half an hour later, and I was wagering he lied to me until I caught a glimpse of a guy who seemed awfully familiar. Seconds later, I realized how he seemed familiar, and his ridiculous name. He was coming out of a small pizza joint. He stopped right outside the door and lit up a cigarette. Then he turned his attention toward me.

---