The rest of the dinner went by relatively quickly, everyone seeming eager to get away. At least the food was incredible, though Jak seemed suspicious of it all, and Mrs. Fairbanks pushed hers around her plate.
Harper noticed Jak watching the food being cleared and as the woman picking up the mostly full dishes passed by, he stopped her, asking softly, “What do you do with the food?”
She looked down. “The food, sir?”
Jak leaned back, speaking more quietly. “The food we don’t eat.”
“We . . .” The woman glanced around helplessly, but no one but Harper was paying attention to the exchange. “We throw it away, sir.”
“Oh.” Jak turned, the expression on his face embarrassed and dejected. He swallowed and Harper’s heart ached. She felt ashamed for every extra bite of food she herself had thrown in the garbage. How often had he starved? How often had he sat somewhere in the forest, hungry and alone? To see the excess here—the thoughtless waste—must be so incredibly distressing.
Finally, Mr. Fairbanks stood. “Thank you for a lovely meal, everyone. I have some work to get back to, but, Harper, it was nice to have you join us.” He gave her a nod, and everyone else stood as well.
“Thank you, Mr. Fairbanks,” she said as he left the table.
Jak came around and took her hand, shooting a threatening look at Brett, who was already moving away. She took Jak’s hand eagerly and let him lead her from the dinner table.
They both seemed to breathe a mutual sigh of relief as they walked quickly down the hall and into the foyer. Nigel appeared as if out of nowhere and they both startled, covering their mouths with their hands as he let them out the door. They both withheld their laughter until the door closed behind them and then their laughter exploded, both fast-walking away from the house as they tried in vain to keep their hilarity muffled.
Jak swung her under the garage door awning on the other side of the house and they gave in to their laughter. Harper had needed the release and felt a hundred times more relaxed once her giggles had subsided. It had all been so ridiculous.
They were awful. With maybe the exception of Jak’s grandfather. But even he was obviously judgmental, only not where it counted. Why hadn’t he turned that sharp-eyed judgment on Loni and her bratty, insufferable children? Still . . . they were Jak’s family. He needed them if he was going to thrive in his new life. At the very least, he needed what they could provide for him. The Fairbanks name would open any number of doors that would never open for mere mortals—like her.
“What do you think of them?” Jak asked once their bout of laughter had completely faded away. “Do you . . . enjoy their company?” He raised a brow.
She gave him a small smile. “They’re not the Gallaghers.” She reached up, moving a lock of hair off his forehead. “But they’re your family. Your grandfather cares about your well-being, I can tell. He wants to help you adapt. To learn. To find success. I think you should let him.”
“You do?”
She nodded.
“Okay.” He laced his fingers with hers. “When can I be alone with you?” he whispered close to her ear and she shivered. “I want it to be now.”
She groaned. “I know. Me too. But, I don’t want to be a point of contention between you and your grandfather.” His brows did that up and down movement that meant he was figuring out a
word, and she smiled with affection, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow and show you a little more of Missoula. We’ll go to my place for a while afterward.” She smiled at him suggestively.
“It won’t be enough. I want the whole night.”
She laughed. “Okay, greedy. But we’ll make do with what we have for now. You can’t be spending every waking hour with me. You still have about ten thousand books to get through.” She winked at him and he smiled, but looked disappointed. This separation is hard for me too, Jak.
He sighed, stepping back. “Okay. Someday I’m going to have a house of my own, and you’re going to live there with me, and never spend another night alone.”
“Oh, Jak,” she breathed, stepping into him, kissing him, breathing him in. His innocent simplicity. He wanted that so much right now. But she wondered again how his changing, his merging and blending with society at large would alter who he was and what he wanted. And she knew it wasn’t fair of her not to let him go if ultimately, him changing meant leaving her behind.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The snow had melted, the earth soft and spongy beneath her feet. In the distance, she heard the occasional yap of a dog as she and Agent Gallagher made their way through the wooded area.
She’d been surprised when he’d called her that morning, asking for a ride to Isaac Driscoll’s place, even though the roads were markedly better than they’d been the week before. Harper had assumed her less-than-prestigious police consultant career had officially come to an end. But Agent Gallagher had told her he not only needed a ride, but that he could use her help “poking around in the woods” as he put it.
Harper had suggested that Jak come along and help too—or even instead of—after all, no one knew those particular woods better than he did. But Agent Gallagher had said no, and she thought he’d acted cagey about it, and so there she was, stepping over a decayed log as she studied the piece of paper Isaac Driscoll had drawn and apparently kept in his bedside drawer.
“Boss?” came a voice from behind them.
“Yes,” Agent Gallagher called, moving past her to the edge of the woods where the other man stood. She recognized him as one of the men who’d been holding a dog when they’d arrived a half an hour before.
Harper looked away, studying the map again. Agent Gallagher had told her the word at the bottom—obedient—had something to do with the Spartans. Apparently, Driscoll was obsessed with them. Harper released a frustrated breath. Without any specific starting point, she had no idea what to look for. There was nothing that looked like anything she’d seen on a traditional map before.