An Unlikely Witch Read Online Free

they?”
    “Apparently.”  A grin of quiet delight.  “Aaron’s soup was the first time they’d had broccoli since.  She said it reminded them of how much love flowed back in those early days.  Now they have it every Friday for dinner.”
    A whole scrapbook of such rememberings.  It would warm the soul of a man who was so very good at warming others.
    “It’s amazing to read them, and to realize how deeply he touches lives with the food he puts on the table and the flowers he leaves by the bedside.”  Sophie paused, looking at the jar in her hands.  “I didn’t have any idea.  I thought I did, but I really didn’t.”
    It was so easy as a healer to believe your life’s work mattered.  Others weren’t nearly so fortunate.  “He’ll know how much he matters on this earth.  It’s a truly lovely thing you do for him.” 
    The younger healer smiled, eyes dancing in the firelight.  “I didn’t do it alone.  Thank you.”
    It had truly been a pleasure. Moira had been tasked with temporarily borrowing the registration book for the inn and with dropping Sophie’s elegant, handwritten request letters in the mail.  “Anyone could have done as much.” 
    Sophie chuckled as the jar in her hand farted.  “Maybe.  But so far, I think you’ve managed to keep it a secret.”  She glanced over.  “Are you any further along on a gift for Ginia?”
    No.  And it was a weight on her shoulders, although not a heavy one.  “The flowers are murmuring of old things.”  Which wasn’t much of a clue when you were a musty old witch.
    “You’ll think of something.  You always do.”
    More than one jar in the room suddenly emitted rude noises.  Ginia high-fived Lizzie, eyes bright.  Moira listened to the sounds of laughter, treasuring them—and wondered exactly what of the old she was meant to give to that brightness.
    -o0o-
    Lauren carved a glob of frozen caramel out of her pint of ice cream and considered her bay window.  Somehow, the objects there had reorganized themselves over the last few months.  They looked now as if they were holding court for the orb, currently sound asleep on its glittery velvet pillow.
    It was odd to think of a paperweight sleeping.  And this afternoon, it didn’t slumber alone.
    Fuzzball yawned and stretched in his pool of sun—and caused one of Devin’s eyes to open.  “You’re awfully wiggly for a sleepy cat there, dude.”  His fingers scratched a fluffy gray head as he looked over at his wife.  “Sorry, didn’t hear you come home.  I must have dozed off.”
    She smiled, enjoying his drowsy good humor.  “That’s what lazy Saturday afternoons are for.”  The two of them had been sound asleep when she’d gotten back from her last open house of the year.
    “Hmmm.”  His eyes were waking up now.  “So how come you’re sitting over there eating ice cream instead of napping over here with me?”
    Good question.  “I’m thinking.”  Strategizing, really.  “I need to have a chat with the orb.”
    Devin didn’t move a muscle, but his whole being was suddenly on alert.  “Why?”
    She sighed, so not wanting to disturb his lazy, cozy peace.  “I’m not sure staying quiet is the best course of action.  I need to see if it will give me more details.”  Some sort of clue that might help her with the timing of dropping a bomb onto her best friend’s life.
    “Yeah.  That would be awfully damn useful.”  Dev’s voice was casual—only his mind hinted at menace. 
    He read her far too well.  “I’m worried about Nat.”  That was a weak word for the turmoil in her insides.
    “It’s picking on those you love best.”  He scowled in the direction of the paperweight. 
    Still her knight in shining armor, even if he snored when he napped.  Lauren set her ice cream aside.  Comfort could wait—she was ready to do this.
    He hadn’t moved, and yet she felt him wrap around her.  “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”
    He would