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“I’m for it. You two can walk me to my room on your way. Well, you four since we have our canine escort.”

At the door, Trey took one last scan before he turned out the lights. All quiet, he decided. All settled. For now.

In the morning, he talked her into the shower, so her day started out in the best possible way.

Downstairs, the dogs—their morning ritual slightly delayed—dashed outside. By the time they’d dashed back in for breakfast, Sonya, absolutely content, sat down next to Trey with coffee and bowls of cereal.

“If you don’t count middle-of-the-night conversations with dead relatives, this feels so normal.”

Trey tapped his mug against hers. “It’s our normal.”

“You take it all so… well, just in stride.”

“I grew up in and around the manor, with the legends, the rumors, and with a couple of my own experiences. You’ve had a hell of a lot more to adjust to. And I don’t see a hitch in your stride, cutie.”

Oh, she’d had more than a few hitches, she thought.

“When I first moved in, it was easy to dismiss things, mostly little things, as old house, imagination, coincidence, whatever.”

He remembered how she’d looked that first day, standing there, the ground blanketed with snow, her hair dancing in the cold wind under her knit hat. He remembered the look of wonder and excitement on her face.

“It didn’t take you long to accept and deal.”

“Falling in love with the house, and I have to admit at first sight, factored into that. But… And I’ve never believed what I’m about to say. Do you think some of it comes through the blood? The Poole blood. I don’t know if I’ll ever really think of myself as a Poole. Born and raised, and happily, as a MacTavish, but.”

“But,” he agreed. “And I think your ancestry could play into it. Clearly, you and Owen—both Pooles—could see something in the mirror Cleo and I couldn’t. And could—Jesus, what a moment—walk into it. You saw and heard what you did last night. Cleo and I only barely got a hint of it.”

“But you both hear Dobbs when she goes on one of her fits, and you’ve seen her twice now. Once in the Gold Room—and that was another moment—and out on the seawall. Cleo saw her out there, too.”

“Dobbs wasn’t a Poole.”

Swallowing a spoonful of cereal, Sonya sat back. “She wasn’t a Poole. That’s so simple and logical, it went right by me. Counselor.”

“Simple, logical. It doesn’t explain why I’ve seen Clover twice, and you haven’t.”

“Oh, that just shows you’re not a girl.”

“Guilty as charged. But how does that apply?”

“Obviously, she’s soft on you, and has been.”

Suddenly, Trey’s phone rang out with the classic “Holding Out for a Hero.”

Raising her eyebrows knowingly, Sonya pointed at him. “I rest my case.”

“Who am I to argue with a hot babe? Make that two hot babes. Mookie and I have to get to the office. You’ll text if you need me?”

“Yes. I intend to have a very good, very productive day. You have one, too.”

He rose. “Any day that starts out with shower sex is already good and productive.”

“I can’t argue with that,” she said, and kissed him. “Bye, Mookie. Be a good boy and a wise legal consultant.”

Alone, Sonya dealt with the breakfast dishes as she imagined the ever-vigilant Molly had already made the bed.

“Come on, Yoda, let’s go to work.”

Upstairs, she started with checks of her texts and emails. Though it tempted her to dive right into the Ryder proposal, she ordered herself to work on current clients. She could end the day with the big potential.