Falling Light (Game of Shadows #2)(87)

Nicholas nodded. “When you get to the mainland, just call my dad and let him know I’m—Jamie—is okay.”

“We will,” Michael promised.

Michael did indeed know where Astra kept the canoe and he led the way. Nicholas came along with them. They found a small, anxious fox sitting in the canoe. Nicholas clucked soothingly at the animal as he scooted it into his arms.

“I haven’t seen you for a while, little man.” He scratched the fox behind its ear, then set it on the ground, and it stayed close to his feet.

Nicholas turned to Mary and held out his arms. She went readily into them and hugged him as tightly as she could. He whispered in her ear, “If I had a snowball’s chance in hell with you, I would give him a run for his money. Don’t let the bastard take you for granted.”

She smiled and grew teary. “I won’t. Take care of yourself, will you?”

“You too.” He brushed his lips against her cheek, her mouth. Then he let her go and stepped back.

She turned to Michael to find him watching them both, his mouth drawn into a thin, jealous line. She said, “Oh, don’t even be that way.”

He cocked an eyebrow, then seemed to make a decision and throttled back. “Fine.”

He climbed into the canoe and guided her as she climbed in too. Mary settled between his legs. The water came to just below the canoe’s rim.

“Do you know how many miles it is to Beaver Island, let alone the mainland?” Michael asked. “With the canoe riding this low in the water we’re going to get exactly three yards.”

She glanced at Nicholas who stood nearby with his hands on his hips, watching. Even the angle of the fox’s ears was doubtful.

The eastern horizon had grown lighter with the promise of a new dawn. The northern horizon was smudged with clouds of ash, but elsewhere, the sky was crystal clear and the stars were fading. It was going to be a beautiful day.

Mary took a deep, cleansing breath of fresh air as she looked around. Astra sent us here for a reason, she thought. And the Lake likes me.

Well, it couldn’t hurt to ask.

She leaned forward, stared into the black water and whispered, “Excuse me. Hello, Lake?”

Epilogue

ONE NIGHT IN late August, Nicholas had a dream.

He had buried all the bodies from the battle on the island. Then he had worked to clear away the debris from the cabin fire.

When the clearing was readied, he spent the long, hot summer days building a new house. Now the frame was finished, and some of the flooring, but he had a lot to do before it would be ready for winter.

He reveled in the hard, physical work. Through it, he grew acquainted with the young, strong body that he had been given, and it filled out the promise of power in his wide shoulders. It also helped to heal the parts of him that needed healing.

In his dream, he lounged in the shade of his new porch, watching the small corner of the world that he had claimed for himself. Even though it was morning, the day was turning into a scorcher. The fox lay at his feet, panting like a dog.

Mary walked up the path. She wore sunglasses, and she was tanned to a warm honey brown. A tangle of thick, layered, wavy hair floated around her slender shoulders. She was casually dressed in cutoff jeans, a hot pink tank top with spaghetti straps and matching pink flip-flops. Her toes were painted a bright pink too.

Pleasure welled in Nicholas. When he had first met Mary, she had been too thin, her face carved from stress. Now she was a healthy weight and vibrant with color. As she approached, he rose to his feet and put his arms around her in a tight hug.

He said, “I know I’m dreaming, but it’s still good to see you.”

She laughed. “It may be a dream, but that doesn’t make it less real. Michael is teaching me how to do it.” She pulled her sunglasses down her nose to look at him with bright aquamarine blue eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you. How are you?”

He nodded. “It took me a while, but I’m good. I needed to be alone to think. I’ve made peace with what we did, and I’ve thanked Jamie for the immense gift he gave me.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.” She tilted her head up to look at the house. “This is amazing. How many bedrooms is it?”

“Four,” he said. “I always wanted to build my own house but never had the time, so I’ve gone a bit overboard. The island is never going to stop cloaking itself from the outside world, and it’s not like I’ll have many visitors here. There’s a lot of work still to do, but I’ll have it insulated and ready for winter.”

“It’s beautiful,” she told him. “How are Jerry and Sara?”

“They are doing okay.” He gestured an invitation for her to join him on the porch, and she climbed the steps to sit on the swing beside him. “Sara doesn’t know. She thinks Jamie is working in Marquette for the summer. I call her every week, and we talk. It makes her happy. My dad suspects something, but he hasn’t said anything yet, and neither have I.” He took a deep breath. “I have to decide soon what I’m going to do about that. For now I’m being who I need to be, and I’m letting them call me Jamie because that’s what they need to call me.”

Her expression shadowed with compassion. “I’m sorry, that’s so hard.”

Gently, he echoed the words that she had said to him months ago. “It will be all right.” They sat for a while in companionable silence. Then he asked, “How are you and Michael?”