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“Go where?” Sophie asked her grandson.

“It’s a slow day. Thought I’d take my girls for a drive. Get Hope out of the house into the fresh air. Tempt her with a sundae from the Custard Cupboard.”

Sophie and I exchanged an “oh crap” look.

“Joy has finally settled into a regular naptime,” Hope snapped. “I won’t screw that up to go driving around the countryside with you.”

“She’ll sleep just fine in the car seat.”

Wasn’t Jake’s way to push, especially not with an audience. The fact he was doing both indicated he’d reached the end of his rope with my little sister.

A feeling I was familiar with.

“Jake, you don’t know—”

“One afternoon, Hope. The three of us acting like a normal family.”

Jake’s voice was calm, but pure steel.

Impressive.

Hope continued to gape at him with a mix of confusion and alarm. I half expected she’d snatch Joy and stomp upstairs, and that’d be the end of it.

But Jake reached out, gently touching Hope’s cheek with a soft plea. “Please.”

She smiled, almost shyly. “Okay. Right after I feed her and get myself ready. I’m kind of a mess.”

“I’ll feed her. And you always look great,” Jake added.

Hope flounced upstairs, her step lighter than I’d seen in months.

Kudos to Jake for his well-played moves.

Sophie’s foot nudged mine under the table. Twice.

“What? You need help with the dishes?”

“Shee, I think aliens done abducted the real Mercy and left this imposter who volunteers for chores.” Her strong, wrinkled hand briefly covered mine. “Ain’t it good to see things are getting back to normal around here?”

“Define normal.”

She harrumphed. “Such a smarty-pants. What are your plans for the day?”

I glanced at the clock. “Working. My shift starts in two hours.” I focused on Jake, murmuring to Joy, waiting for the bottle to heat. “I wanted to tell you that I saw a mountain lion yesterday.”

“Where?”

“Over by the prairie dog town in the northwest corner of the Newsome’s old place.”

“What time did you see it?”

“Morning. She didn’t look good. She was mangy. Starved. A bit too long in the tooth to have cubs.”

“She attack you or anything?”

As far as I knew, we’d never had a mountain lion attack our cattle, to say nothing of attacking a human. “Nope. Have you seen her around? Or any kind of tracks?”

“I haven’t been up in that section for a while. But I ain’t surprised. Lots of people are reporting seeing mountain lions where they ain’t supposed to be.”

In the last few years, the South Dakota Game, Fish and Parks started a mountain lion season to deal with the growing problem. Some folks were appalled, calling it a barbaric practice. But I figured they’d change their tune right quick when the lions started snacking on little kids.

Jake tucked Joy in the crook of his arm and popped a baby bottle in her mouth. Greedy sucking noises sounded. “Did you kill her?”

“No.”

He frowned. “You didn’t shoot her?”

No. “I . . . ah, missed.” Liar.

“You missed? That’s a bad sign.”

Automatically, I assumed he meant I’d lost the weapons skills I’d spent years honing. I bristled. “Why?”

Jake and Sophie exchanged a look.

“What?”

Sophie pinch pleated the ruffles on the place mat. “You know about spirit animals, right?”

I nodded.

“They’re a reflection of ourselves. Sometimes they lead us to something; sometimes they lead us away. You must’ve seen a part of yourself in her. Destroying her meant you’d destroy that part of yourself, so you didn’t.”

Of all the . . . “I call bullshit on that, Sophie. I also saw two squirrels going at it for like twenty minutes, up and down a pine tree, bark flying everywhere, and I didn’t shoot them. So if what you’re saying is true about the lioness, I should also consider the mating squirrels . . . my spirit animals? I should read their intensive mating practices as a sign I’m dying to have wild squirrel sex, hanging upside down in a tree?”

A funny smile tilted the crinkled corners of Sophie’s mouth. “That’s exactly what it means.”

Jake and Sophie looked at each other again and busted a gut laughing.

I wasn