Chapter 7: Pie on Tuesdays

The Ridge Diner was full at noon.

It sat on the county road at the edge of Niemi land.

Half the pack ate there, along with every logger in the county.

I walked in with Stellan behind me and the scout's message in my head.

Mara, before she called herself Bostick.

My mother had never told me another name.

She had died when I was six.

I had her ring and a lullaby, and nothing else.

Beck saw me through the pass-through window and lit up.

"Turkey on rye?" he called.

"Not now."

His smile slipped, but he put down his spatula.

Linnea stood at the register in a yellow apron.

She saw my face and her hand went still on the cash drawer.

"Lowen."

"Come out here, Lin."

"I'm working."

"Come out here, or I say it from where I'm standing."

She came around the counter.

Twenty people at the tables had stopped eating.

A trucker with a forkful of pie held it in the air.

I didn't care.

"One of the Elder's scouts stopped me on the ridge today," I said.

"The Elder's man knew my mother's old name. So I think you do."

Linnea's face went the color of paper.

"Did you know my mother?"

"No," she said at once. "I swear to you, Lowen. I never met her."

"Did anyone in your family?"

She didn't answer.

"Linnea."

Keep reading free with an account. Start Her Brothers Scented Me at the Gate, Now All Three Claim Me from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.