Addy couldn’t stop staring out the window. They had been on the road for over three hours, but every mile had brought more excitement, more new things to see, from the narrow, winding roads leading away from the farm to the terrifying jumble of traffic flying around Knoxville, to the seemingly endless expanse of four concrete lanes called Interstate 40 that led to Nashville. For the first time, she was aware of what she had been missing by staying in her little valley. Oh, she had read books, watched television, heard Granny talk about the outside world, but she had never experienced it for herself. And once the first wave of guilt for leaving Granny alone had passed, Addy had been determined to remember every little detail, so she could share it with Granny when she returned home.
“Only another fifteen, twenty minutes,” Mark said then yawned.
“This must be tiring,” Addy said. “Driving like this, I mean. All this traffic.”
“It’s not too bad,” Mark said, “though I rarely get to drive, since Uncle Bart usually grabs the wheel.”
“Tell me about your Uncle Bart. You’ve told me about your brothers, and growing up on the farm, but where does Uncle Bart fit in?”
“I told you my dad’s one of ten.”
“Yes.”
“Well, Dad’s the oldest, and Uncle Bart is the youngest—he’s only seven, eight years older than Matt. Bart and Dad are the only two Shifters in that generation, so they’ve always been close.”
“And because Uncle Bart is a Shifter, he’s close to all of you, too?”
“Somethin’ like that. Unlike Dad, though, Uncle Bart went to college. He went to East Tennessee State over in Johnson City. When you meet him, you probably won’t believe he majored in theater—though he’ll be the first to tell you he only got on stage a couple of times when he couldn’t avoid it, and the rest was all stagecraft, design, and lighting. He did an internship at one of the big casinos in Las Vegas, but he hated it and came home as soon as it was done. That’s about the time the family started wondering if the four of us boys could make it as a professional band. Not that they wanted to send us off to Nashville, but things were getting’ pretty tight on the farm, and the money would sure come in handy. Dad put Uncle Bart in charge of us, and it’s worked out pretty well.
“Of course, snagging the Konstantine Talent Agency—thanks to Mel—is what’s allowing us to get a decent recordin’ studio and some pretty classy live gigs, but Uncle Bart’s still in the middle of it. Thank God.”
Addy smiled. He obviously loved his uncle, and it made her feel safe to know the Saint family was a close one in which everyone seemed to look out for one another. She thought about her own family and frowned.
“What’s wrong, Addy?” Mark asked.
She sighed. “Nothin’. I’m just breaking one of the Ten Commandments.”
“Oh?”
“I’m coveting your family. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have so many people care about what you do, what becomes of you. I have Granny, of course, but...”
Mark reached across the space between them and took her hand in his.
“You’ll know soon enough, Addy. You’re bringin’ your music to us. That’s gonna make you family real quick. I promise you that.”
Addy squeezed his hand in return, praying it would be so.
After a time, the traffic began to pick up again, and he released her hand to place both of his securely on the wheel.
“Gettin’ close to our exit,” he said. His eyes never seemed to stop moving as he continuously checked his mirrors, keeping a close eye on all the traffic around them. She wondered if his other life as a bear made him all the more attentive when living as a man.
As they exited the Interstate, Addy took a deep, fortifying breath. It wouldn’t be long, now, before she met the people who meant so much to Mark—the people who would help to decide her own future.
“How do you do it?” she asked after she had lost track of the times and directions they had turned at various intersections. “How do you know where we’re going?”
Mark chuckled. “I do it by takin’ the exact same route home every time,” he admitted. “I sometimes end up goin’ a long way out of my way to get there, but at least I get there, as long as I stick to what’s familiar.”
“How do other people do it?” she asked, genuinely perplexed, as she watched all the cars and trucks jockeying for position at every intersection.
“How is it you can find your sugar maple tree from anywhere in the forest?”