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“And here I thought we were moving quickly.”
Oliver laughs and claps his hand on my shoulder. “She needs you. I’m glad you’ll be close by.”
“We’re headed over to Miss Sophia’s today. You’re welcome to come. I think we’ll need all the help we can get, and I trust you implicitly.”
“Annabelle and I will be there. She’s making some cobbler, and then we’ll head that way.”
“Is she ever not in the kitchen?”
Oliver laughs and shakes his head. “She says acts of service are her love language, whatever in the Sam Hill that means.”
“Well, I’m not complaining. Her cobbler is my favorite. I’ll see you both in a bit then.”
I toss my bag into the trunk of the car, wave at the older man, and then set off for Miss Sophia’s house in the bayou.
Daphne mentioned to me the other day when we were in her shop that the girls plan to build a cottage for their mama on Miss Sophia’s property. I wonder where they’re thinking of doing it. I could lend a hand. It would be cute on that little hill, right behind where Miss Sophia’s cabin sits.
I pull up and turn off the car. When I walk into the house, I already hear voices coming from the kitchen.
Lucien and Cash are already here, but I hear other voices, as well.
“There you are,” Miss Sophia says with a welcoming smile. She cups my face in her hands and looks deeply into my eyes. “Blessed be, Jackson.”
“And to you,” I reply before kissing her cheek.
“We haven’t seen you in a long, long time,” Gwyneth Bergeron, Lucien’s mother, says and rushes over to offer me a hug. “It’s good to have you home.”
“Thank you.”
Aiden, Lucien’s dad, shakes my hand, and I’m offered tea and cookies before we sit around the giant table in Miss Sophia’s dining room.
Her house is small, but I swear it seems to get bigger when people are here to accommodate everyone. And I wouldn’t put it past Miss Sophia to have cast just that kind of spell.
Everyone is welcome at her table.
“Oliver and Annabelle are on their way,” I inform everyone. “Has anyone heard from the girls?”
“They’re on their way, too,” Cash says and pops a cookie into his mouth. “Everything went smoothly with Ruth.”
“Good.” I turn to Miss Sophia, who’s sipping her tea. “Are you sure you’re okay with having her here with you? After everything that happened?”
“Ruth has been through hell,” she says mildly. “And she came out the other side. None of it was her fault. I’m looking forward to helping her get stronger and keeping an eye on her to make sure she stays safe from that which tries to harm her.”
“We’re grateful,” Lucien says. “We’re all grateful.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure. Ruth’s a strong witch, and we’ll need her before long. But that’s a story for another day.”
I blink at her and want to press her for more information. But I know this woman. And because I do, I know she won’t say more until she’s good and ready.
Oliver and Miss Annabelle arrive to another round of warm welcomes. Annabelle winks at me as she sits next to Miss Sophia.
She’s a strong witch in her own right, and I’ve always had a soft spot for her. If Oliver is a father to me, then Miss Annabelle is a mother, and I’m grateful to both of them.
She has her black hair tucked under a bright orange and yellow scarf that matches her flowy dress. Miss Annabelle loves bright colors and says the dresses keep her cool in this horrible Louisiana heat.
“You have news,” Miss Sophia says, watching me.
“Reading my mind?”
Her smile flashes, and she shakes her head. “No need. It’s written all over that handsome face of yours.”
“Well, you’re right. We have news. But we’ll tell it when everyone is here so we only have to say it once.”
We hear car doors slam outside. Within minutes, the girls walk in, Brielle rolling a suitcase behind her, as a smiling Ruth holds Millie’s hand. Millie favors her mother, with her long, blonde hair and willowy figure.
“Welcome home,” Miss Sophia says as she wraps the other woman in a warm hug. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Thank you, my friend.” Ruth leans her forehead against Miss Sophia’s. “Thank you.”
“Come in, everyone,” Miss Annabelle says, ushering the women inside. “There’s tea and sweets, and lots of love to go ‘round.”
“I love it here,” Daphne says with a sweet sigh as she slips her hand into mine and rests her head on my biceps. “It always feels so…safe.”
“What a wonderful compliment,” Miss Sophia says with a smile. “Come, everyone. Make yourselves comfortable. Let’s pour some tea, shall we?”
It’s five minutes of organized chaos, filling cups and spooning up cobbler, laughing, and hugs. And then we’re all gathered around the table.
“Where do we start?” Daphne wonders aloud.
