“Okay, Jak, thank you. I appreciate all your honesty. I’m going to try to figure out what was going on. I’m going to do my damnedest, okay?”
Jak nodded, running a hand over his prickly jaw, the question he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer to falling from his lips. “Who was she? My mother?” It still caused hurt to echo through him when he thought of those words—my mother. She’d never been a mother to him though. She’d never come back.
“She was a troubled young woman, Jak. She made a lot of very bad choices, but I think she was trying to make them right. I think she cared about you and carried a lot of regret.”
Jak didn’t know how to feel about that. He wasn’t sure he could miss someone he’d never known. He wasn’t even sure he could be angry at someone he’d never known.
When Jak looked up, Agent Gallagher was watching him, a worried frown on his face. But when he met Jak’s eyes, he gave him a small smile. “There are some other things I’ve found out about your past and where you might go from here.”
Jak felt a jolt of fear. “Do I have to leave the cabin I live in now?”
Agent Gallagher sighed. “I’m afraid so. I spoke to Isaac Driscoll’s sister, who’s his next of kin, and she was unwilling to let you remain on the land.” Why did he look mad? What did he care if Jak couldn’t live in his cabin anymore? It wasn’t really his anyway. Maybe he should have left it the second he found out Isaac Driscoll was watching him, had lied to him. But he hadn’t wanted to let the man know he’d found out what he was doing, had thought he could hide it, so he’d acted normal . . . tried to understand what to do. And then . . . Driscoll was dead.
And now, he couldn’t be sorry he’d had somewhere to be with Harper. If he hadn’t had this cabin, he wouldn’t have been able to protect her from the cold.
Take me inside.
At the memory of the words, Jak’s skin flushed.
But now . . . now the cabin wouldn’t be his anymore.
He’d go back to the forest. He’d survived it before. Survived it with less knowing than he had now. The only thing that made his heart speed up and his throat go dry was the woman sitting next to him, the woman who he wanted to call his own. The woman who he would never let visit him in a cave in the woods. When he thought of it he felt ashamed. He could feel her eyes on the side of his face, but he wouldn’t look at her.
“How long has she given Jak to vacate the land?” Harper asked, and he heard anger in her voice too. They both thought that woman should let him stay. But . . . now that he was really thinking about it, maybe he didn’t want to stay. Not in a place where he had been lied to, watched. He didn’t want to live in a cave in the woods, because it would mean leaving Harper, but . . . he didn’t want to live on Driscoll’s land either.
“A week,” Mark said.
Harper gasped as she brought her hands to her mouth. “A week? What kind of horrible witch is she?”
Mark Gallagher laughed, but it didn’t sound like a regular laugh. There was no happiness in it. “Class-A.”
“I guess so. Does she know what her brother did?”
“I didn’t get the notion that she cared. They weren’t close. She’s interested in her payout and that’s about it.”
Harper was quiet but he could see her teeth grinding. She was mad for him. It made a warm feeling in his chest. “Okay,” he finally said. What else could he say?
“I have some other news for you,” Agent Gallagher said. “And it’s good. Or, at least, I hope you’ll see it that way.” He paused, his brow wrinkling. “You have a grandfather, and he wants you to come live with him.”
“A grandfather?”
“Yes. Your father’s father. Unfortunately, your father passed away many years ago.”
Jak felt a tightening in his chest. But he hadn’t known that man. “My father’s father,” he repeated, trying to picture unknown people who were somehow part of him.
“Yes. He knows how you’ve been living, knows about Isaac Driscoll. He’d like to offer you a home with him for as long as you want to stay.”
Jak didn’t know if he should trust this. He kept trying to tell himself that there was no war, no enemy, and then, he had to tell himself that not everyone was lying to him. If he couldn’t, how would he ever make it through the world?
“Who is he?” Jak asked. “My . . . grandfather?”
“Turns out your family is very successful. They live outside Missoula and own the Fairbanks Lumber Company.”
“The Fairbanks Lumber Company?” Harper repeated, surprise in her voice. “That’s . . . that’s huge. Wait, Jak’s father was a . . . Fairbanks?” She looked at Jak. “So that means you are too?”
“A Fairbanks?” Jak asked. “Lumber Company?” He frowned, his head spinning. “I don’t want to live with strangers. I don’t know them.”
“You’ll get to know them. And . . . if you don’t enjoy their company, you can move out.” The agent paused. “Jak, I think this is a really good opportunity. I think . . . well, having family on your side—especially a family like the Fairbanks—is going to open a lot of doors for you.”