Chapter 3

Calvin jerked awake when something reptilian trailed over his foot. His heart settled down when he caught his little sister Meagan’s underlying scent. The eleven-year-old enjoyed practicing her shifting abilities.

Pulling back the covers, Calvin’s eyes widened at the sight of a king cobra raising its head as it slid closer. If he hadn’t known it was Meagan, he’d be shitting his boxer briefs. The “snake” spread its hood and hissed, making the hair on Calvin’s forearms rise.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he said. “Back to human form.”

The snake opened its mouth, baring deadly fangs.

“Knock it off.” Calvin’s inner horse didn’t like snakes any more than it did whips. “You better go get dressed before Mom comes looking for you.”

Meagan slid off the bed and slithered out of his bedroom.

Calvin looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was almost seven. He’d had a late night and had apparently overslept. Ten minutes later, he was showered, shaved, and just about dressed when Adam popped his head into his room.

“Hey, bro.”

Calvin smiled. “Hey.”

Adam came all the way in and shut the door. “Did you come up with any ideas about what to get Mom and Dad for Christmas?”

The holidays were fast approaching, and the Lightfoot kids were searching for something that would express their profound gratitude and love to the people who’d given them so much. To the outside world, Lightfoot Farm was simply a legitimate agricultural business, but to the people who lived there, it was much more.

Trent Lightfoot was a shifter who’d run away from his foster home at the age of seventeen. He and Delia had met seven years later. When Trent had revealed his true nature to Delia, she’d been surprised, but had accepted his shifter abilities as a part of the man she loved. They’d bought the farm when they’d gotten married. Adam had come along a year later, but Delia hadn’t conceived again.

At a cattle auction eight years later, Trent had encountered six-year-old Calvin. He’d been homeless, dirty, and hungry. Shifters always recognize other shifters, and Trent had instantly known by Calvin’s scent that the boy was of his ilk. Trent had cajoled Calvin into telling him his story.

The boy’s parents had abandoned him at the cattle auction a few days before Trent had arrived. It had amazed Trent that no one had turned Calvin into the authorities. When Trent had called Delia, and told her about Calvin, she’d urged him bring the boy home.

With some finagling, Trent’s lawyer friend, Wayne Carson, had gotten Calvin’s adoption pushed through. So, Calvin Black Bear had become Calvin Lightfoot, the first of ten shifter kids adopted by the Lightfoots. Wayne and a couple of other friends had kept their ears to the ground regarding more shifter kids.

Ten years ago, Adam had appointed himself a shifter rescuer and begun helping Wayne. He pored over social media and traveled the country looking for shifter kids who needed a home with people who understood them.

Calvin pulled on a long-sleeved black T-shirt. “I have a few ideas, but we’ll all have to decide together. I wish Mom was as easy to buy for as Dad.”

Adam sat down on Calvin’s bed. “What are these ideas?”

Calvin shoved his wallet in his back jeans pocket. “A bingo cruise.”

Adam cracked up. “A bingo cruise? Mom would love it, but Dad would hate it.”

“Not the one I’ve been checking into. There are other things to do on it, too. Deep sea fishing, snorkeling—stuff like that. Dad would love it,” Calvin said.