Chapter One

Heath

“Nearest place that can fix a bus like this is…”—the tow truck guy took off his dingy cap and scratched at his sweaty hair—“about an hour away. I’ve got a friend up there. He can fix anything and has a big enough shop.”

Two hours away and off my path.

Wasn’t like I had a choice. My bus had broken down on a stretch between two small towns: one with a gas station only and the other a grocery store. The clerk there tried to sell me a jar of off-brand peanut butter for three times the price of gas.

No, thank you.

“Then let’s tow it there, please. Can I ride with you, or should I order an Uber?” I asked, hoping a little bit for the latter. Riding two hours with a stranger wasn’t my idea of a good time.

Then again, neither was breaking down on a road walled in by trees taller than mountains.

“You can ride with me. Grab whatever you need for the ride while I get this hooked up.”

“Thank you.”

I grabbed my backpack and water bottle and waited on the side of the road under the cover of a tree, watching my house and my mode of transportation get tethered with heavy, rusty chains. Not part of the plan, but I didn’t find myself as upset as I thought I would be. After all, it was an older bus. Hiccups happened along the way, but I had become a decent mechanic as I fixed the bus up to take me across the country.

But there were some things even I couldn’t fix.

“Hop on in,” the man said. The stitched-on name patch on his shirt read Randy.

“Thank you, Randy.”

As expected, the cab of the tow truck smelled like old fast food and more engine fluids, all underneath the cloud of the air freshener apple hanging on his rearview. Randy flashed me a smile as he threw the loud truck into drive and headed toward the mechanic shop.

Along the way, I pulled out my journal, intending to keep a record of this, but my thoughts drifted back to my den as they often did. My fox needed a den, but the one I came from didn’t quite fit. My parents didn’t understand this fact, never had. They claimed that foxes stayed in the dens they were born in—raised in.

From early on, I realized the difference between myself and the other foxes. They were content with living in one den their entire lives. Finding a mate in an alpha or an omega close to home and then having as many kits as possible to fill up a village.

Inside me was a passion to explore and reach out into the world, searching for a den of my own, not one inherited or settled for.

My fox craved a mate or two far from the alphas around the den I came from. Instinct would tell me who they were, of course. In the meantime, I traveled. My parents thought I was searching for myself; that’s the story they told people.

The truth was, I already had a good head on my shoulders. There was no reason to find myself when I already had, the moment I saw my bus. That bus, now being dragged behind this tow truck, was the catalyst for what my life was now.

Some people didn’t understand the reasons I had to do this, but they didn’t have to. It was my life, not theirs.

Still, I’d made that decision ten years ago. Over the last two or so years, my drive had evolved from seeing this country and all its wonders, to finding a place to settle down—find a mate or mates—and have some kits of my own.

There was no pinpointing the exact time my goal changed but it did without my permission.

“About thirty more minutes,” Randy said, tapping his finger on his phone. He had navigation app open, telling him all the turns and roadblocks. I had the same app. Sometimes I simply turned it off and roamed without aim.

“Thanks,” I said, snapping back to the present moment. The pages of my journal were blank as I’d spent the drive reminiscing instead of writing.

I watched as the long winding road, hugged by towering trees, came to an intersection and a town became visible up ahead.

“There’s the shop. Rob’s Repair.” Randy pointed out the windshield to an open garage with several cars taking up all the parking spaces outside. There were cars on lifts inside and a couple of men in coveralls with their hands and most of their bodies under the hoods.

Randy dropped me off before maneuvering my bus into an adjacent lot. I paid for the tow before talking to Rob. The R names around this place got confusing.

“How long do you think?” I asked, knowing his ballpark would probably double once he got a look at the engine.

“A week? Maybe more.”

That’s what I thought.

“Is there a place to stay around here?” I asked. “A place to rent by the week or a motel?”

Rob nodded. “Yeah. Down the block and north about two more blocks.”

I tipped my chin and looked at him down my nose. “And for the directionally challenged?”

He laughed, wiping his blackened hands with a dirty rag. “That way, one block. At the diner, take a left and walk up two blocks. The motel is on the corner. Big neon sign that says motel.”

I let out a laugh. “Thank you. I’ll be there if you need me, and you have my cell.”

“I’ll be in touch,” he said and walked back to the shop.

Taking in the sights of the small town, I followed Rob’s directions, noting where the diner was as well as the general store. When I got to the motel, I paused outside. My fox stirred inside me, alert and expecting something. Not in a defensive manner but aware. Very aware.

This place was beautiful with gorgeous views of mountains and trees. The trails weren’t far away and if I judged correctly, the ocean was only a few hours down the road.

Huh. This place would be perfect to settle down in.

“Welcome,” a man said as I opened the door. “Would you like to book a room?”

“I would. Thank you. Just a single, if you have one.”

“We actually do. What’s your name?”

I gave them all my information and they put my credit card on file. Another male came in and kissed the first one on the temple. He had gardening gloves on and, from the outside and the lobby, it looked like they kept this place immaculate.

Damn. What I wouldn’t give for a loving alpha to be sweet to me.