The backdoor opened and Janette and Janie Mae walked in. Janie looked between Francine and Darla. “What’s going on?”

“Eggie marked Darla last night and she’s still trying to pretend she didn’t join the Manson Family.”

“You lying sow!”

“We don’t have time for this,” Janie cut in. “I’ve got a list of pies and a chance to make some real cash.”

Darla’s eyes grew wide. “I was thinking the same thing!”

“You were?”

“Yeah. It’s brilliant. We open a pie store or a bakery here and sell pies to the entire town.”

Her sisters stared at Darla and Janie said, “Actually, that’s not what I was talking about. But it is brilliant.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

Janie grinned. “Racing against those Barron sluts.”

“I am not racing a cat. And neither are you, Janie Mae. You’re five months pregnant.”

“Only three of you need to race. Three of our best against three of theirs. I figure you, Roberta, and Janette. Francine’s out because she drives like Grandpa Lewis.”

“Gee . . . thanks.”

“And how are we supposed to make money from that?” Darla asked.

“Both the bears and the cats have been taking bets. The cats are favored to win.”

“So you bet on us?”

“It was easy. I had the money from every damn Smith wanting a pie.”

Darla glared at Roberta. “I thought I told you to get her gosh darn money!”

Roberta shrugged. “Ooops.”

Eggie wandered into the back door of his oldest brother’s house. He knocked over the trash can and went through it. He was always amazed at the stuff his kin was willing to toss out. He usually found all sorts of stuff he could fix up later, you know, when he had time.

Not finding anything interesting today, he went to the refrigerator and with his muzzle grabbed hold of the towel someone had left hanging from the handle. He pulled it open and studied the contents. Francine was usually pretty good about having plenty of food available for her mate and pups.

“Hey, Uncle Eggie.” Two of his brother’s older sons walked through the kitchen, patting Eggie’s side as they did. He gave them a welcoming bark and went back to finding something to eat. There was a raw roast, so he pulled that out and went to work on devouring it.

“Does your female not feed you, little brother?” Benji asked from the doorway. “And make sure you clean up when you’re done. I don’t want to hear from Francine about it.”

Yawning, Benji made his way into the kitchen and hauled himself up on the counter. “Hand me the milk, would you?”

Eggie stared at his brother.

Benjirolled his eyes. “You can’t just shift to human for two seconds? You ain’t no full wolf, Egbert Ray.” Benji wiped the piece of raw roast from his face that Eggie had tossed at him. “Bastard.”

Eggie had just finished the rest of the roast when Bubba Ray walked in. “You cooling off the whole neighborhood, Egbert Ray?”

“Don’t start with him,” Benji warned. “He’s in a mood and throwin’ meat.”

“I think that’s him being playful, big brother. Word on Main is that Egbert Ray marked little Darla Mae as his own last night.”

“She agreed to that?”

Eggie growled and bared his fangs and Benji quickly held his hands up. “It was just a question, no need to get nasty. She just seemed a little . . . hippy-dippy to be comfortable as the mate of the most—what was that word Aunt Ju-Ju used?” he asked Bubba.

“Reviled.”

“Yeah. The most reviled Smith in the Northern Hemisphere since our ancestor Milton ‘Gut Eater’ Smith was terrorizing England.”

“Boiling all those pretty little girls.”

“I thought he liked ’em raw.”

“No, no. He liked ’em boiled up in stew or barbequed over an open spit for the fine flavor and tenderness of the meat.”

Eggie shifted and bellowed, “All right, that is enough!”

His brothers burst out laughing and Eggie stormed over to the sink so he could wash the blood off his face.

“Every last one of you are bastards,” he muttered around the running water.

“Look,” Bubba pointed out. “Darla marked him back. How cute.”

Normally Eggie didn’t get involved in this kind of verbal sibling squabbles, but for once . . . he actually had a little ammunition.

“At least mine let me mark her.” He slowly faced his brother, saw Bubba’s eyes narrow while Benji snorted. “Didn’t even have to argue with her. She just told me she loved me and offered the back of her neck.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “How many pups you got with Janie Mae now, Bubba Ray . . . and still she’s as unmarked as a newborn babe. So which Smith has control of his female now, boy?”

His younger brother’s nostrils flared out, a sure sign that he was pissed off. Good. But before Eggie could really revel in his moment of triumph a soft, “Eggie?” from the backdoor had him cringing.

Darla walked in, her gaze glancing at the three males before she walked over to Eggie. She gazed up at him and he waited for it. Lord, she must be mad. Her being a feminist and all. Not that he blamed her. He deserved it.

“Why are you standing here naked, with your brothers, and smelling like blood?”