“Why don’t I fill up a wire crate while you talk to Tobias,” Shelley said.

“Talk to me about what?” Tobias wiped his face on his sleeve.

“About this.” Jesse pulled the picture of the bison out of the envelope and watched her son pale. “Did it look like this?”

Tobias shook his head. “Mom, you can’t show that picture around.”

“I was asked to give it to Joe Wolfgard. You and Shelley are the only ones in town who have seen it. The only ones who will see it.” She wanted to rub the ache in her wrist, but he knew her tell just like she knew why he sometimes pressed a hand against his right ribs when he was sensing something strong. “What spooks you about this?”

“Can’t say.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Tobias gave her a hard look. “Won’t. Truman and I saw something this morning, something humans don’t usually see and live to tell about it.”

Jesse looked at the one paw print that was different from the smaller Wolf prints painted on the bison. “All right, Tobias. I still have to give the picture to Joe Wolfgard.” She hesitated. “Abigail Burch wondered if she could have some bison fat for making her candles and soap.”

“Mom...” Tobias didn’t continue, and Jesse heard the tick-tick-tick of her old clock. “I’ll ask, but you make sure Abigail—and Kelley—knows she can’t be wandering out there by herself.”

Shelley put the wire crate on the counter, filled with bottles of juice and soda. “I figured Floyd has water.”

“He does. Thanks Shelley.” Tobias lifted the crate, gave Jesse a look that was both hard and pleading, then walked out of the store.

“Trouble?” Shelley asked.

“Could be.” Jesse put both pictures in the envelope and stashed them under the counter as Abigail returned.

“I brought both sets of cards,” Abigail said, setting silk-wrapped bundles on the counter.

Not tarot cards, Jesse thought as Abigail showed them her grandmother’s deck, then did a reading for Shelley with her own deck. Not tarot, but something similar. Something I’ve seen before.

“I’m going to meet a stranger full of danger and darkness.” Shelley watched Abigail dash across the street toward her own little shop. Then she snorted. “How likely is that here in Prairie Gold?”

“You didn’t get a feeling?” Jesse wished she could put some ice on her now-throbbing wrist.

“Nothing.” Shelley gave her a curious look. “Did you?”

“You need to get back before your helper gets bored and starts rearranging the books again.” Since Shelley’s helpers were usually the older children who liked books and wanted to earn pin money, they tended to be responsible—up to a point. “Do some research for me.”

“You want your own set of tarot cards?” Shelley teased.