Book 12: He's Back, But Not to Stay

Aviva

“Line up,” I whisper against ten-year-old Lexa’s ear. “Breathe in… release.” An arrow splits the cool spring air in two. A soft squeak whispers toward us as a squirrel falls from its perch on a nearby cottonwood tree. I squeeze her waist in silent congratulations while she beams, her dark-blue eyes wide and round. “Good job.” I grin, giving her a pat on the back. “Go get it.”

Lexa takes off in a blur of red curls and homespun textiles in soft creams and browns that match the melting snow. In the distance, over the shadowed mountains, plumes of gray smoke stretch toward the first inklings of the sunset.

Lexa bounds back to me, squirrel in hand. I tie it to her belt and help her put her bow back in her halter while seven-year-old Nora puts the finishing touches on the snowman she’s been building for the last hour.

“Nora, come on!” Lexa calls out, motioning for her little sister to hurry up, but Nora has never listened to anyone in her lif