Page 15 of Starlight Witch

I nodded. “I feel horrible, but yes. I don’t know, May. I just don’t know.”

“Well, you’ll figure it out. And whatever the outcome, thank you for hearing me out.”

“Of course. You’re his mother, I expect you to stand up for him.” I took another bite of the pie. “So, you’re willing to come with me for Thanksgiving? Even with my crazy mother?”

“I’ll be there. Especially now that our families are going to be related.” Leaning across the table, she placed her hand on mine. “Don’t be too hard on your mother. She’s been through a lot, from what Bran says.”

“You know that my aunt Ciara sent me my father’s diary?”

May tilted her head, giving me a puzzled look. “No, I didn’t know that.” She paused, then asked, “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I thought Bran might have told you about it. It’s the journal my father kept for a few months before he was found dead. There are some questionable things in it that make me wonder if he committed suicide, or if he was murdered. My mother hasn’t seen it, and I’m not telling her about it. But when we go up there for Thanksgiving, I intend to ransack the house for a letter he supposedly left. My mother didn’t find it, I’m sure. All I know is that the Witches’ Guild of Port Townsend may have had something to do with his death.”

“Oh dear,” May said, knitting her brows. “I don’t recommend drawing their attention. You don’t think that they killed him, do you?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that he mentioned the Witches’ Guild, and being watched. He said something about a secret room, and how much he regretted his greed, and how hard it was to turn away from…some sort of temptation. I’m not certain what happened. I can’t ask my mother—and honestly, I don’t think that she knows anything about it. But my father was enchanting protection magic into my clothing when I was five.”

“It’s difficult when someone’s death has a cloud hanging over it. I take it Bran is going to help you search for the letter?” she asked, finishing her coffee and getting up to pour another cup.

I nodded. “Yes, he said he would. I was wondering if you might help? We have to keep this a secret from my mother somehow. I doubt if my aunt would tell her anything, but I don’t want to drag her into anything traumatic. Not after Owen’s death.”

May cut herself a piece of pie to go with her coffee. “You don’t think there’s any correlation between Owen’s suicide and your father?”

I shook my head.

“I know it seems unlikely, that both of them supposedly killed themselves. But Owen had reason. He was depressed, and he had overdosed twice before. My aunt found him in time, both prior attempts. This time, she didn’t.”

“Did they conduct an autopsy?”

“Yeah,” I said, sighing. “The level of drugs in his system was so high that he couldn’t have been in his right mind.”

My throat tightened and I wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall.

“Are you all right?” May asked.

With a shrug, I said, “Even though I hadn’t talked to Owen in a while, we were best friends during childhood. I loved him. In my heart, I feel like I let him down. I wasn’t there to offer him the support he so obviously needed.”

“I understand, but you were healing from your own trauma. Did your great-grandmother point out that if someone is determined to take their own life, they’ll find a way? Even if you were there, you may not have been able to change anything.”

Worrying my lip, I sighed. “I know. And he was so out of it, anything I said would probably have bounced off. I just wish I could have tried. That I knew what was going on before it was too late. But there’s nothing I can do now.”

I finished my pie. “Did Bran show you the ring before he proposed to me?”

She grinned then, her eyes sparkling. “Well…let me see it.”

I held out my hand. “I just love it, it’s so beautiful.” After a moment a thought crossed my mind. “This isn’t some family heirloom, is it? Because if it is, I want to make certain to take excellent care of it. Not like I wouldn’t take care of it anyway, but it’s better to know these things from the start.”

May laughed. “No. To be honest, I was with him when he bought it. I steered him to this style. Bran’s a wonderful man, but he doesn’t have the best of taste when it comes to jewelry. So, I hope you don’t mind that I took the initiative.”

“I thought that might be the case,” I said, relieved I could still laugh. “I’ve never met any man who has my taste when it comes to jewelry. Thank you. I do love it. It’s incredibly beautiful, and I will take care of it and try not to be a klutz and lose it or damage it.”

I finished my pie and coffee as we shifted our conversation to the barn. If May had any other questions, like where we’d be living, she kept them to herself.

“The new barn will be ready in a few days. I can’t wait to bring our animals back home. Would you like to see the progress?”

“We won’t be in the way?”

She shook her head and stood, linking her elbow through mine. As we walked out the back door, the smell of wood smoke hung heavy in the air. The wind was blowing it in a westerly direction, the gusts picking up the scattered handful of leaves remaining on the trees and sending them spinning around us in a frenzied autumn dance.

---