“Sure. Do you want me to leave?”
Reid looked briefly conflicted, then waved at her to stay where she was.
“Em will tell you anyway so you might as well hear it. We just got a call that Tiffany’s sister has been released from protective custody. There’s no indication that she’s coming here, but I wanted you two to know that it could happen and keep your ears open.”
Logan swore. Trystan set his hand on Storm’s belly. Storm chewed her teething beads, oblivious to the blanket of concern that had descended over the room.
“What does that mean?” Sophie asked tentatively.
“I don’t know.” Reid’s voice held all the frustration that Logan felt. It was reflected in Trystan’s face as well. “We know that she knows about Storm and was planning to come here, but wound up in trouble with the law. Now she’s loose. If she wanted to call and arrange a visit or something, I think we’d figure something out.”
Reid looked to Logan and Trystan. They each jerked their shoulders in maybe.
“But if she challenged us for custody, then no,” Reid said firmly. “That’s a war we need to be prepared to win.”
“How’s Em?” Sophie asked.
“Freaking out and pretending she’s not.” Reid gave his jaw a rub. “I said I’d bring Storm home. Do you mind?” he asked Trystan.
“I have to finish getting the Storm Ridge ready to sail anyway.” He unbuckled the sling, as somber as the rest of them.
Reid took Storm but pulled her out of the sling. He let the contraption dangle off his elbow while he held the baby securely against his chest.
Hold on to her. Hold on tight, Logan wanted to insist. His own arms felt weak and useless, his chest hollow.
“Maybe it’s nothing,” Reid said, but he didn’t sound convinced or convincing.
“Maybe,” Trystan echoed in a hollow tone.
Until they knew that it was nothing, they would all fear the worst.
Chapter Nine
Live entertainment in Raven’s Cove was almost nonexistent. A local DJ played three nights a week in the summer for any tourists who happened to be moored here. Locals often ended their busy week with a few drinks, but no one made a point of going to the pub for music.
Therefore, when an actual band turned up, it was an event. The act could be a yodeler with a pan flute and the entire community would show up.
Almost the entire community. Somebody had to watch the kids and Emma’s mother offered, including Biyen so “you lot” can have a night out. Biyen could have stayed with Gramps, but he was even more excited than Sophie for this special treat. He was going to eat popcorn and watch a movie with Imogen and Cooper and have a sleepover in the rumpus room at the Fraser house. Could life get any better?
Storm was already down for the night when Sophie arrived with him. Delta waved off any concerns.
“I’ll text Emma if anything comes up, but Biyen is good as gold and Storm knows me now. She won’t play strange if she wakes and I go in to her. Have fun.”
“Your mom is warming up to Storm,” Sophie noted when she was walking down the drive alongside Emma and Reid. From below, they could hear the muffled voice of someone introducing the band inside the pub.
“I think Glenda shamed her into it,” Emma said wryly. “If Glenda is big enough to dote on her ex’s baby, surely Mom could open her heart to her daughter’s adopted daughter.”
“I thought it was because Imogen got Storm to say ‘Nana,’” Reid said.
“Pretty sure that was a fluke,” Emma said wryly. Storm was only eight months and babbling nonsense most of the time.
“We still need to keep an eye on that girl, or she’ll put Storm in her suitcase when she leaves,” Reid said.
Sophie wondered if seeing how anxious Emma was over the prospect of Tiffany’s sister turning up here might have impacted Delta’s attitude. She was very reserved and Emma seemed incredibly sensitive to the slightest criticism from her mother. From what Emma had told Sophie of her relationship with her family, it had nearly strained past its breaking point through her divorce. When she had first arrived here, she’d barely been speaking to any of them. She and her mother had become more relaxed with each other as this visit had worn on, though, which was nice to see.
Tonight wasn’t the time to get into that, though. The band was finishing up a lively rendition of “One Week” by the Barenaked Ladies as they arrived at the door.
“That’s not the real band, is it?” Emma asked.
Reid paused in opening the door to point at the poster showing a half-dozen musicians in toques, holding maple syrup, poutine, and a stuffed beaver under a maple-leaf-shaped logo that read, CANADIAN CONTENT.
The band helpfully introduced themselves as they entered the crowded pub. The tables were full, and the bar was elbow to elbow with people trying to order drinks. Two servers were holding trays of shots as they wove between the clusters of patrons.
“Thanks for coming out, Raven’s Cove,” the lead singer said. “We are Canadian Content. We cover Canadian bands and something we hear all the time is, ‘I didn’t know that song was Canadian.’ We turned it into a drinking game. If you want to play along, the rule is, if you say, ‘I didn’t know this band or song is Canadian,’ you have to buy a round of shots for your table. Ready, Raven’s Cove? Let’s parteeeee.”
A cheer went up and the band rolled into “New Orleans Is Sinking” by the Tragically Hip.
“Oh, I like this one!” Emma began rocking her hips. She glanced for Reid, but he was wedging himself into a space at the bar. “Dance?”
Sophie nodded and they started toward the dance floor.
“I didn’t know this song was by a Canadian—” Emma had leaned toward Sophie to be heard over the music, but stopped herself, eyes going wide as she slapped her hand over her laughing mouth.
“No!” Sophie went back and tugged on Reid’s shirt. “Shots on her!” She thumbed at Emma.
“Really?” Reid mouthed and shook his head, amused. He nodded and waved to get the bartender’s attention.
They danced through Arcade Fire, Arkells, and a Shania Twain medley before going to find Reid.
