“Meanwhile,” Hope continued, “I heard back from my cousin and from the school. My cousin promises to send me what she can. She doesn’t buy the ghost angle for a minute. Her response was very amused and really condescending, but she’s enthusiastic about her research, and pleased someone else in the family shows an interest. Even if it’s about the wrong sister. And the librarian’s working through the red tape, but feels due to the family connection, and the family’s long-term support of the school, she can cut through it. There are letters. She hopes to scan me copies within the next few weeks.”

“Progress.” Owen sat back. “Better than I’m doing.”

“If they both come through and I end up with piles of documents, I’m dumping half on you.”

“Willing and ready.”

Angry young voices punched through the open deck door.

“It couldn’t last forever,” Clare said and started to rise to break up the fight.

“I’ve got it.” Beckett nudged her down again.

“Go with it,” Justine told her. “Pregnancy pampering doesn’t last forever either. Plus I’ve got ice cream to bribe them with. Any other takers?”

Hands shot up around the table.

“I appreciate it,” Hope said, “but I really need to get back. Carolee’s held the fort long enough. Thanks for dinner, for everything. It was just great.”

“We’ll do it again,” Justine promised. “And I’d like to see those letters when you get copies.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do. ’Night.”

Ryder tapped a finger on his knee for about twenty seconds, then pushed up from the table. “Be right back.”

As he walked to the door Owen made exaggerated kissing noises. Ryder just shot up his middle finger and kept going.

“My boys.” Justine sighed. “So damn classy.”

He caught her before she got to her car. “Wait a minute.”

She turned, hair swinging, settling.

“What time are you clear on Tuesday?”

“Oh. I should be done by five. Maybe four thirty.”

“That works, if I can use one of the showers.”

“It’s your inn.”

“It’s not about whose inn it is.”

“Then yes, you can use one of the showers. Any one you like.”

“Okay.”

When he said nothing else, simply stood, bringing that surge up with the steady look, she angled her head. “Well? Are you going to kiss me good-bye?”

“Now that you mention it . . .”

He left her breathless and needy, light-headed and trembly. The perfect end, she thought, to an unexpected summer evening.

“That oughta hold ya.”

She laughed, shook her head as she slid into her car. “Let’s hope it holds you. Good night.”