Page 45 of Calling All Angels
He kissed her goodbye and headed off toward the exit. Aubrey slumped back down onto a chair in the waiting room, combing her fingers through her hair.
Emma sat down on the chair beside her. “It’s going to be okay, Aubrey. No matter what. It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”
But both she and Connor knew that was a big white lie. She still didn’t know which way this would go. Maybe Connor did, but he wasn’t telling her. Did other people who landed in the in-between stay here long? Was she minutes away from waking up? Or going in the other direction? Was it her time or not? How would she know?
She’d always believed that when it was your time, it was just your time. But it certainly felt like some cosmic mistake had been made in her case. That, first of all, the accident had possibly only happened because they’d thought she was Aubrey. Which was terrifying. So, whose fate was at play here? Hers? Or Aubrey’s? She couldn’t even consider anything happening to Aubrey. She simply wouldn’t allow it.
She shook her head, wanting to hug her niece. If only she could get to the bottom of all this.
“Let’s go, then,” Connor said, reaching for her hand.
“Go where?”
“To the bottom of it all,” he said with a wink.
“Youhaveto stop doing that,” she told him.
“Aye, right.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know,” he said, pulling her up from the chair.
She sent a look back at her niece. “But what about…”
“Dinna worry. She’ll be safe. This willna take long.”
Confused, Emma stopped resisting. For reasons she couldn’t begin to fathom, when he put his hand in hers, curled his fingers around hers, she trusted him.
They started down the corridor together. In the next instant, they were in another place altogether. A pretty, green place, with a lake beside it that smelled of summer and of the fragrant pines bending in the July breeze. There was a gabled house with a wide, screened porch in the back, pretty as a picture with a flower garden surrounding it. A stunning woman with blond hair was sitting in an Adirondack glider on the lawn with an infant snuggled against her shoulder in the warm sun. There was a Fourth of July banner strung across the front of the porch with little handmade red, white, and blue triangles.
Emma tightened her fingers around Connor’s. The look on his face reminded her of a boy on the first day of school—at once excited and nervous.
“Where are we?” Emma asked Connor.
“Leyton Grove.” He pointed to the woman in the glider. “And she’s an old friend of mine.”
Chapter Eight
Emma frowned. Anold friend? What exactly did that mean? He’d been an angel for centuries. How old could she be?
The woman, who was definitely not an angel, was waving to a sailboat doing maneuvers offshore on the sprawling lake, catching the wind in its sails. It reminded her of a boat her father had owned for a few years that he’d sailed on the ocean. She’d been on it many times, and the sight brought a rush of memory and emotion. This boat was pristine looking, made of wood. From here, Emma could make out a man and a young girl who was helping with the rigging. Connor was watching the boat, too, smiling at the sight.
The woman in the Adirondack chair jumped to her feet, shocked and happy to see Connor, who had materialized before her.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Scotsman,” she said, striding toward him.
“Elspeth,” he said, reaching out to hug her. “And who’s this wee bairn?” He peeked behind the blanket in her arms. A small perfect little face appeared and scrunched in a yawn. A tuft of wispy blonde hair covered the crown of her head.
“This is Anika Noel, our little girl. Sam’s and mine. Molly’s, too, of course.” She blushed as she spoke.
“I hadn’t heard. She’s…well, she’s bonnie, Elle.Meal do naidheachd.Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” she said, beaming. “We couldn’t be happier.”
Elspeth. Elle.She had the look about her of a woman who was perfectly herself, right with her world. Happy. Emma remembered then hearing about her, twice now. Connor had told her that she’d been one of them—a guardian—before she’d quit to be with the man she’d fallen in love with, Sam Wynter, who was apparently the one steering that boat out on the lake. Curious, Emma wanted a better look at the man who’d changed an angel’s mind.
But if she ever got to tell anyone she’d been with two Celestial beings (one fallen) chatting away a few hundred miles from the bed she lay in, surely no one would believe her. She wasn’t sure if she believed it herself.
