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Footsteps pounded down the staircase to match the thundering of my heart.
Kyle appeared by my side a moment later. “What is it?”
I pointed out the window and his shoulders slumped. He turned me to face him, and pulled me close. “You’re shaking. Oh, Brynn. It’s not a fire. They’re nightlights so the house isn’t so dark when I go home to change in the morning. I’m surprised they’re visible from here.”
“Are you sure?” I croaked, clutching my throat.
“Yes. We can walk over and I can show you if you like.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to get close to anything remotely resembling a house fire again.
Kyle’s voice was quiet, soothing. “Breathe.”
I slumped into him.
“I know you don’t want to, but you really should talk to a doctor about this,” he said. “They can help.”
I straightened and drew a deep breath. “I’ll think about it.” And probably wouldn’t do anything beyond think. I needed time and space. A month, nearly two, wasn’t enough time to get past the trauma.
“Come to bed,” he coaxed.
I glanced over his shoulder, toward the dimly lit living room. “I think I want to work for a while, make a candle or two. Between the scents and working with my hands, it calms me down.”
He stared at me, uncertainty in his eyes.
“Go to bed,” I told him. “You can even sleep across the street if you’d rather.”
He drew his brows together with a frown. “That’s not going to happen. Not now.”
“Really, I’ll be fine,” I said, not at all sure I would be, but knowing I needed time to myself.
I laid my head against his chest, listening to the reassuring, steady rhythm of his heart. I was alive. He was alive. The world had gone into hibernation for the winter, but in the spring, the earth would renew itself with new growth, a new cycle of life. “May,” I whispered.
“May?” he repeated.
“May will be the perfect time to get married.”
His chuckle rumbled against my face. “You never cease to surprise me.”
I pulled away and leaned up to kiss him. “Go to bed. I’ll be along soon.”
Kyle caressed my face. “I can sleep on the couch until you’re ready.”
“No point in being uncomfortable.”
When he hesitated, I took him by the hand and led him to the staircase. “Go on. If I need you, I’ll holler.”
His thoughts reflected in his face, from uncertainty to resignation, before he climbed the stairs.
I flipped the lights on in the workroom and I searched out dried flowers to press into a wax pillar, but couldn’t find any. Instead, I took a bundle of rosemary from the ceiling, held it under my nose and breathed in. Combined with lavender, the smells would relax me while I molded and designed the candle.
I hummed while I greased the pillar mold and strung a wick, turned on the burner and melted the wax. I added the lavender essence, poured a coating inside the cylinder and sang Soak Up The Sun quietly as I cleaned rosemary sprigs to press into the setting wax.
While I worked, a creeping sensation tickled my back. Georgia stood behind me, thumb in her mouth, sock monkey in her hands—Georgia, but not Georgia. She had a glow about her, and I could see through her. An astral projection?
Ash sauntered into the workshop and flopped down beside Georgia’s image, the way she would have if the little girl had actually been there.
“I’m right here, honey.” I hopped off my stool and crouched beside Georgia’s projection. “Were you having a bad dream?”
She glanced around the workshop. “Sing to me?”
I sat cross-legged on the floor and sang the chorus of Soak Up The Sun, then transitioned into Here Comes the Sun. Apparently, I’d struck on a theme this evening. Walking on Sunshine followed naturally, and then I ended my impromptu concert.
“What are you making?” she asked.
“A candle. The smells make me happy.”
“Me, too. Can I make a candle?”
“Not tonight, sweetie.” I had to keep reminding myself Georgia was only three. Even I knew the gifts she exhibited were extraordinary. “How did you find me?”
“I closed my eyes and made a wish,” she said. “Mommy says dreams are wishes from your heart.”
Not at all what my mother had taught me about wishes, but I couldn’t argue with Georgia. While I sang a song from Cinderella about wishes, Georgia closed her eyes and faded away.
Should I go after her? Make sure she drifted comfortably to sleep? Guide her dreams. I looked for the grimoire on the worktable, wondering if it would help with my decision, but the only things there were what I’d laid out to make the candle.
I rose from the floor and finished pouring the candle. Eyes closed, I inhaled the scent, but my thoughts returned to Georgia and the way she’d sought me out. Tomorrow I’d call Nora to ask her what she knew about astral projection.
Ash jumped onto my lap. I stroked her silky fur while I waited for the candle to set. When my head became too heavy to support, I folded my arms on the worktable and cradled my forehead.
Dreams are wishes from your heart. Georgia had wished to see me. With Jason’s antagonistic attitude, the dreams might be the only way for me to reach Georgia.
My shoulder shook, or rather, someone shook my shoulder. I opened my eyes and straightened. Sun filtered through the blinds. I shivered against the chill in the room and looked for the man I knew was attached to the hand shaking me awake.
“I guess I fell asleep,” I said unnecessarily.
“I’m worried about you,” Kyle said.
“I knew the scents would soothe me, I just didn’t realize they’d work so well.” I gave him a smile and slipped off the stool to stand beside him. He was already dressed. “What time is it?”
“Eight o’clock.”
I yawned and stretched my arms over my head. “Then I’d better get moving.”
“Brynn...”
I slipped my arms around his waist. “I’m fine. I promise.”
He nodded, but the look on his face indicated he didn’t believe me. “I’ll see you when you open the store?”
“Ten o’clock, sharp.”
“Cassandra’s back today?”
No more unexpected visitors at the shop, or at least I wouldn’t have to deal with them alone if they did show up. “Yes, sir.”
He snorted. “You sure you’re okay?”
A finger of irritation tickled me. “I wish you’d quit asking me that.”
“I worry about you.”
I nodded. “I’ll see you at ten.”
He kissed me goodbye and left.
I checked the candle, melted the remainder of the wax to top off the depression around the wick and went upstairs to get showered and dressed.
When I returned to the workshop an hour later, one of the grimoires lay open to a recipe for a special order—an ordinary day in my house. Before I packed to leave for Windfall, I’d mixed three more special orders.
Cassandra had already opened the boutique when I arrived and was hanging new designs on the clothing racks.
“You’re going to make people think you’re eager to be back to work.” I took off my coat and opened Ash’s basket.
“Ya think?” Cassandra replied. “I love my family, and lord knows I’m going to miss my gran, but I’m so ready to get back to work.” She set her hands on her hips. “How have things been here?”
“About the same.” I headed to the backroom to put out Ash’s morning food. When I returned to the front, Cassandra was staring out the windows. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Getting used to the new order of things, you know?” She sighed. “Family changes, work changes.” She waved her hand around the boutique. “I still can’t get used to the new layout.”
“I was thinking the same thing earlier this week. It works, though.”
She smiled. “I don’t suppose we’ll know for sure until next summer, but I do love being able to show off my designs.” Cassandra met me behind the counter. “So fill me in. What have I missed the past few days?”
I put a finger to my chin and gave a dramatic tilt of my head as if pondering the question. “Let’s see. Kyle and I are still dating, the earth is still revolving, the trace of snow we got is melting...”
She laughed. “Okay, okay. I take it nothing major has happened, not that you’re one to indulge in idle gossip.”
“Got it in one.” I tapped my finger on one side of my nose and went for my tote to retrieve the candle I’d made last night.
“I can smell the candle from here. Nice,” Cassandra said.
“Soothing,” I added. “In fact, I’m still wrestling with myself about keeping it.”
“Didn’t Nora used to burn incense in the shop sometimes? Hey, if it relaxes customers enough to buy new clothes, I’m all for it.”
I’d missed this. Conversation. Company. A buffer from the townspeople. “Maybe I will light the candle,” I said. “Later.” I hitched myself onto a stool. “You want to talk about anything? The funeral? The family?”
Cassandra bowed her head. “Probably. But not yet. I mean, we knew she was near the end, but that doesn’t make it any easier. The stroke was such a shock, and then to have her go so quickly...”
I reached for her hand. “If there’s anything I can do.”
“That goes both ways. Kyle told me to try to talk you into finding a counselor for PTSD. Because of the fire?”
I blew out a breath, not happy he was trying to go around me. “I told him I’d consider it. I’m fine. If I’m not, I’ll look for help.” I told Cassandra about the nightlights in Kyle’s house. “In the dark, it looked like there could have been a fire. It isn’t as if I freaked out for no reason.”
Ash hopped onto the counter and turned circles on her rug in the corner. I stroked her fur and she arched into my hand, her purr increasing before she settled into a ball.
“I should forewarn you about something else, though,” I said. I told her about LeAnne’s visit and Jason’s opposition to a family reunion. And I told her about Georgia, what an adorable little girl she was.
“Tough spot to be in,” Cassandra said. “With the mother wanting to be friends and the father trying his hardest to shut you out.”
“No kidding.” Not to mention Georgia searching me out in her dreams. “I’ve bonded with the little girl, even though we’ve only spent a short amount of time together.”
“Kids are like that sometimes,” Cassandra said. “Like they have a natural instinct. Then again, you’re a good person. I knew I liked you the first time I met you.” She patted me on the back as the bell over the door announced Kyle.
“You,” I said, walking toward him. “You don’t need to bring other people into our problems. My reaction last night was not over the top.”
“Maybe not,” he said, “but you are still having flashbacks.”
“What do you expect? I had flashbacks for six months after your aunt tried to shoot me, too.”
He cringed. “Which probably makes this trauma worse.”
I shook a finger at him. “Stop. I’m fine. If I need help, I’ll ask for it.”
“Yeah, my aunt needed help and she didn’t get it until she was forced to.”
“Are you comparing me to your aunt?”
“Brynn, no.” He shot a glance at Cassandra, who was smiling while pretending not to listen. “Promise me...”
“I promise. A few nightmares are normal, don’t you think?”
He nodded, albeit reluctantly.
“Now go make sure the rest of the shopkeepers aren’t having any issues this morning. That is what you do when the strip opens, isn’t it?”
Kyle took a step toward Cassandra, as if he was tempted to ask her to watch out for me again, and I shot him a glare. He frowned.
“If...” he began.
“You’ll be the first person we call,” I told him.
He wagged a finger at me. “This isn’t over.”
“Have a good day, Kyle,” Cassandra called out to him.
He sighed and walked out.
“Thank you,” I said to her.
“He always did have an exaggerated hero complex,” she said. “If it makes you feel any better, he isn’t as bad as he used to be. When he was dating Kelly Goddard, he was practically obsessive about her safety.”
“I can’t say he’s been obsessive,” I said. “Just annoying.”
Cassandra laughed. “Consider it a win.”
My phone buzzed with a text—LeAnne thanking me for the flowers and letting me know they were sending her home. She was on bedrest until her due date and she thanked me again for watching Georgia. I typed a response letting her know I was happy to watch Georgia any time she needed help. My text went unanswered.
Because she didn’t need me? Or because Jason had caught her texting me?