Dream Lake (Friday Harbor #3)(54)

“But she knows she’ll be safe. She knows you’ll be there.”

“She knows that right now.” Zoë began to pet Byron, who had just crawled onto her lap. “But she may not always know it.”

After handing a glass of wine to Zoë, Justine poured another and sat on the other side of the sofa. “It’s weird, when you think of it,” she said. “About what you are, when you take away the memories and desires.”

“You’re nothing,” Zoë suggested morosely.

“No, you’re a soul. A soul on a journey … and life on earth is just part of that journey.”

“What do you think happens after we die?”

“According to my family—at least, on my mother’s side—some souls are lucky enough to go up to the ultimate life force. Heaven. Whatever you want to call it.” Justine crossed her legs and settled more comfortably into the corner of the sofa. “But other souls, who’ve made mistakes during their lives on earth, have to go to a sort of waiting place.”

“What kind of waiting place?”

“I’m not exactly sure. But it’s their chance to understand what they did wrong and learn from it. The coven calls it ‘Summerland.’ ”

Byron curled himself into a doughnut shape on Zoë’s lap and began to purr. Zoë sipped her wine and studied her cousin with a perplexed smile. “Did you just say ‘coven’? As in witchcraft?”

“Oh, it’s just a joke my mother and her friends have,” Justine said with a dismissive little wave of her hand. “They’ve called their group a coven forever. They even named it. The Circle of Crystal Cove.”

“Are you part of it?”

Justine made a scoffing sound. “Do you ever see me with a broomstick?”

“I don’t even see you vacuum.” Zoë smiled down into her wineglass, but looked up as a thought occurred to her. “What about that old besom broom in your closet?”

“My mother gave it to me as a rustic decoration. I like to keep it near my clothes because it smells like cinnamon.” She made a comical face as she saw Zoë’s expression. “What?”

“What’s the word for when people go astray from their religion?”

“Lapsed.”

“I think you might be a lapsed witch.”

Although Zoë said the words lightly, Justine gave her a strangely intent glance before asking with a grin, “Would it make any difference to you if I was?”

“Yes. I’d want you to cast a spell to make my grandmother better.”

Her cousin’s expression softened. “I’m afraid spells can’t take her off the path she’s on. If I tried, things would only get worse.” She stretched out a long leg and rubbed Byron’s furry bulk with her foot. “All I can do is be a friend to you both,” she said. “For whatever that’s worth.”

“It’s worth a lot.”

The next morning, after making breakfast at the inn, Zoë called Emma. “Guess what I’m doing today?” she asked brightly.

“You’re coming to visit me,” her grandmother guessed.

“Close. Today and tomorrow I’ll be busy getting the cottage ready, and the next day, you and I are moving in together. Just like old times.”

“Come get me now, and I’ll help.”

Zoë smiled, knowing that even though the offer was sincere, Emma wouldn’t be of any practical use. “I can’t change the schedule,” she said. “Justine and I have everything worked out. Her boyfriend Duane is going to help us, and—”

“The man from the motorcycle gang?”

“Well, it’s not really a gang, it’s a biker church.”

“Motorcycles are noisy and dangerous. I don’t like men who ride them.”

“We like the ones who have big muscles to help us move furniture.”

“Is Duane the only one helping you? Those club chairs are very heavy.”

“No, Alex will be there.”

“Who is he?”

“The contractor. He has a pickup with a trailer hitch.”

Mischief edged her grandmother’s tone. “Does he have big muscles, too?”

“Upsie,” Zoë chided, and felt her color rise as she remembered the hard strength of Alex’s body pressed to hers. “Yes, as a matter of fact he does.”

“Is he attractive?”

“Very.”

“Married?”

“Divorced.”

“Why did he—”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Zoë said, laughing. “I’m not interested in a love life right now. I want to focus on taking care of you.”

“I’d like to see you find a good man before I’m gone,” Emma said wistfully.

“You’d better hang around then, because at this rate it’s going to take me a while.” Hearing the back door of the kitchen open, Zoë turned to see Alex walking in. She smiled at him, her heart beginning to beat faster.

“When are you coming to get me?” Emma asked.

“The day after tomorrow.”

Her grandmother sounded perturbed. “Did I already ask that?”