Sarah came to an abrupt halt, confused. “What—”
“Just don’t look,” Kat hissed.
“Don’t look at wha—”
Town sheriff Blake McIntyre sauntered out of the pet store and across the street, a bag of cat food tucked under one arm.
Sarah’s breath caught in her throat, and her knees grew wobbly.
Kat said firmly, “Look. Away.”
But it was too late. Sarah was already looking. And whenever she looked at Blake, she reacted.
Most of the time, Sarah considered herself a mature, capable, independent woman. Although Ava paid most of their housing costs, Sarah had her own job, paid her own bills, and drove her double-cab pickup truck like a boss. She’d been doing all of that since she graduated high school, too. But there was one thing that made her fall apart at the seams. He was six foot one, with light-brown hair and green eyes, and looked downright edible in his sheriff’s uniform.
And right now, he was walking toward his office, striding along without a care in the world while she watched him, aching to say something brilliant, or fascinating, or—
“For the love of heaven!” Kat slipped her arm through Sarah’s and dragged her the final steps to the Audi. “Come on!”
Sarah knew she should look away from Blake. Back in high school, she and Blake had had a strange on-again, off-again relationship. Although, technically, their relationship had never been fully “on.” Instead, she’d liked him when he hadn’t liked her and then vice versa. They’d done that strange back-and-forth for several years until, in high school, The Incident had happened.
Just thinking about it now made Sarah slightly sick to her stomach. For her own mental health, she should forget about The Incident and Blake and never think of either of them again. She knew that, but the second she saw him, her mind went into overdrive, and she couldn’t seem to remember anything except how desperately she wanted him to like her.
Kat unlocked her car and practically shoved Sarah into the seat. Then Kat reached into the back seat, grabbed a ball cap, and slapped it on Sarah’s head.
The brim obscured Sarah’s vision, and Blake was mercifully out of sight.
Sarah put her hands over her hot face and moaned. “Why, oh why do I do that?”
“I have no idea.” Kat shot Sarah an exasperated look. “But you need to figure it out. I’ve never seen anyone so determined to make a fool of themselves around a man.”
“I can’t help it. He’s just there, and then I start thinking, or maybe I stop thinking— Sheesh, I don’t know, but it’s been like this since I was fourteen.”
Kat started her car and pulled out of her parking spot. “Maybe one of your books will tell you what’s going on.”
“I’ve asked and none of them know.” Sarah slid down in her seat and tugged her ball cap lower, glad they were driving in the opposite direction, away from Blake. She didn’t have time for this nonsense; she needed to focus on helping Ava. That was what was really important. “I wish Momma was still here. She always knew how to find answers, no matter what problems we had.”
Kat turned the car onto Maple Street. “I’m just glad none of Ava’s teas seem to have caused permanent damage.”
“Ava makes them super weak, so they’ll only work for a short time. She says people should be able to decide from day to day how they want to feel.”
“She’s as smart as your momma. I’d hate to think what would have happened if her teas didn’t wear off. Erma, Jon, and Jess would be royally screwed.”
Sarah agreed. They drove on in silence for a few moments and soon Kat turned the car down the long street that led to Ava’s greenhouses. Hang on, Ava, thought Sarah. We’ll be there soon. We’ll figure out what’s going on with your teas and find an answer. I promise.
CHAPTER 5 Ava
Ava stepped out of her greenhouse and walked past the half whiskey barrels that lined the parking lot. During the spring and summer months, big trucks arrived to pick up flats of herbs and flowers for various grocery and garden stores. Then, the dirt-filled barrels would be filled with a colorful array of flowers and would provide a much-needed protective barrier—more than one was cracked from being hit by an inattentive driver. But for now, the barrels stood silent and colorless, which matched her mood perfectly. She reached into her truck bed and fished out an empty box, then started back to the greenhouse.
Her steps slowed as she got closer. Things were going so, so wrong. After a nearly sleepless week searching for an answer to Erma’s misfiring tea, and haunted by the mad thumping of the box under her bed, this morning Ava had discovered that two more of her teas had gone crazy.
Two more. Oh God.
Her head aching, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d had lunch with Sarah and had tried to keep her worries to herself. There was no sense in worrying her sister. Once lunch was over, Ava had immediately come here, to the greenhouses, where she and Sofia Rodriguez-Kaine, her greenhouse manager, had pored over the tea-making records, looking for clues.
What they’d discovered had given Ava a faint glimmer of hope—all three messed-up teas had been made at the exact same time. Even better, they were the only teas she’d made that night. The next step was to look at the common ingredients, but she’d had to leave that to Sofia, as Ava had been interrupted all afternoon by people calling to cancel their specialty tea orders. Ava had managed to talk most of them into waiting while she investigated the situation, but a few people had refused to be so patient. Her chest tightened. I have to figure this out. I have to.
She set the box by the door, too distressed to go back inside just yet. Sofia was there now with Kristen, moving all the plants Ava had used to make the wonky teas to one place so they could examine them. Thank goodness for Sofia. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
When Sofia and her son, Noah, had first moved to Dove Pond, they’d rented the small farmhouse that sat at the bottom of the hill in front of the greenhouses. While living there, Noah had made friends with their next-door neighbor, Jake Kaine, a brilliant if odd game developer. One thing had led to another, and over time Jake and Sofia had started dating. They’d recently married, which meant that Ava’s farmhouse was once again empty.
She wondered if Rick Donovan, whom she’d promoted from crew chief to manager of her landscaping business, might be interested in the rental. He was currently commuting from Bryson, which was quite a distance, so the little house might be just the thing for him. She made a mental note to ask him the next time she spoke to him.
Her shoulders tight, Ava stretched her arms over her head. She really should be inside helping Sofia and Kristen. And yet she lingered where she was, enjoying the afternoon sun as it dispelled the usual January chill. A row of Zéphirine Drouhin roses, thornless climbers she’d planted along a trellis that stood along the walkway to the supply shed, sat flowerless in the late-January sun. The climbers had all been put to bed months ago, but come summer they’d bloom with pink, deliciously fragrant roses. She stooped beside one now and ran a finger over a branch. Instantly, her mind was filled with the tranquility of the healthy plant’s deep slumber, which soothed her own troubled thoughts.
Her gaze moved from the branch to her hands, which always seemed faintly green, as if her skin had been stained from touching plants so often. She had discovered her gift on her seventh birthday, as all her sisters had. In the Dove household, the birthday girl always got her favorite meal, and at the time, Ava’s happened to be hot dogs and baked beans. While waiting for her mother to finish the birthday feast, Ava had pushed Sarah in a stroller up and down their long driveway, a delightfully big and rambling if somewhat decrepit Queen Anne–style house. After their father’s death, the house had grown more ramshackle each year and was now surrounded by thick overgrowth, the shrubbery out of control.
That day, the tenacious Floribunda rosebush at the corner of the front walk kept getting tangled around the stroller’s wheels. At first, Ava had tried to steer out of
the way, but the rosebush seemed determined to capture them as they passed. The fourth time it happened, Ava had gotten irritated, and without thinking, she’d snapped, “Stop that!”
For a startled moment she and the plant had stared at each other; then, after a stilted minute, the plant had rustled as if offering an apology. Slowly, leaf by leaf, it had curled back from the stroller and out of the way. The next time Ava walked past the bush, there was plenty of room for Sarah’s stroller.
After that day, Ava would walk around the yard, trailing her fingertips over every leaf, every petal, every fresh bud. Plants didn’t talk to her the way books talked to Sarah, as plants didn’t use words so much as feelings. But Ava became an expert in reading those feelings. She started tending to the plants in their yard, knowing when they needed more water or sun, when they longed for shade, or just wanted some company. Later, she would grow flowers, shrubs, and herbs in the chipped pots she found in the old shed behind the house and then replant them in their yard until their house stood in the center of a lush, beguiling, fragrant garden.
The neighbors, enchanted by Ava’s results, had hired her to work in their yards, too. Growing busier by the year, Ava had started her own landscaping business at the young age of sixteen. She’d been wildly successful, later branching into her specialty gourmet teas, which had done well, too. And soon, the Pink Magnolia Tearoom would be up and running, yet another notch in her business belt.
Or it would be another notch, if her misbehaving teas didn’t derail her whole plan.
Ava collected the empty box she’d left beside the door. Before she’d faced this tea emergency, her biggest worry had been the secret she’d been keeping under her bed. Now she wasn’t sure which she dreaded more. Either one could be disastrous.
Her shoulders aching under the weight of her thoughts, she had just swung the door open when a car pulled into the parking lot, the tires crunching on the gravel. She turned to see Sarah getting out of Kat’s Audi.
Sarah hurried forward while Kat climbed out of the driver’s seat. “Oh, Ava, I heard about the other two teas. Have you figured anything out?”
Ava looked past Sarah at Kat. “Chatty thing, aren’t you?”
Kat closed her car door, looking sheepish. “If she hadn’t heard it from me, she’d have found out from someone else. People in town have started talking.”
“I know. I’ve had some cancellations.”
Kat winced. “Oh no.”
“We’re here to help,” Sarah announced, as if that made all the difference in the world.
Ava supposed a few more hands wouldn’t hurt. “Come on in. Sofia, Kristen, and I have been—”
A familiar red pickup pulled into the lot and parked beside Kat’s Audi. Dylan Fraser jumped out, flashing them an infectious smile. He was tall, Dylan was, close to six foot three. His hair was a deep auburn brown, an unusual color that was made all the more noticeable by how much it contrasted with his red beard. “I brought you all a visitor,” he announced as he went to open his passenger door.
Aunt Jo swung her feet out, her cane in one hand, her huge purse in the other. Dylan helped her out of the truck and then followed her to where Ava, Sarah, and Kat stood. Aunt Jo’s flowered dress and red wool coat were a stark contrast to Dylan’s flannel, jeans, and work boots.
“Aunt Jo, what are you doing here? Did I forget your tea?” Ava rubbed her forehead, trying to remember her deliveries from yesterday. “I thought I dropped it off, but maybe I—”
“I’ve got it right here.” Aunt Jo reached into her purse and pulled out her tea canister. “I brought it so you could test it.”
“Test it?”
“To make sure it’s not poison or anything.”
Ava’s face heated.
Dylan turned to Aunt Jo. “You’ve been using Ava’s teas for years. I don’t know how many times you’ve told me that your arthritis practically disappeared when you started taking that tea at bedtime.”
“What do you know about tea? You don’t even like it.” Aunt Jo’s bright brown gaze turned to Ava. “Is it true what they’re saying about your teas? That they’ve been poisoned?”
“No, no! It’s just…” Ava took a breath. “There was something wrong with three teas I made on a particular day. Just those three, and no more.”
Sarah brightened. “They were all made on the same day?”
Ava nodded. “So far it doesn’t seem any others were affected.”
“That’s a relief,” Kat said.
“It is if I can figure out what went wrong.”
Aunt Jo put her canister back into her purse. “I guess I’ll just hang on to this then. I was afraid I’d have to reuse my old tea leaves until you sorted things out. They would work, but the tea would be weak.”
“You keep your old tea leaves?” Kat asked curiously.
“I mix them with potting soil. My petunias love them.”
Sarah’s attention was still on Ava. “You look a lot more hopeful this afternoon than you did at lunch.”
“I make teas in groups that use similar ingredients. These three teas had four in common: lavender, peppermint, ginger, and dandelion root. Something had to have happened to one of the plants I used. Sofia and Kristen are pulling all of them out right now so we can look for fungal infections, thrips, scales—something that might affect a plant’s health.”
“We can help,” Kat said.
“I’ll come too,” Aunt Jo announced. “Dylan, you might have to wait.”
“I need to get back to the tearoom.” He smiled at Ava. “I got a call that your cabinets are ready.”
“They’re early!” Ava exclaimed, ridiculously grateful for some good news.
“Surprised me too. I was on my way to pick them up when Aunt Jo called and asked for a ride. If I work a little extra, I should be able to get most of them installed today.”
“By all means, go get them. I’ll take Aunt Jo home later.”
“We’ll have to pick up Moon Pie from his spa day,” Aunt Jo said. “He’s at Paw Printz getting his hair done.”
Ava smiled. “No problem. It’s near my tearoom. Dylan, thanks for offering to work late. I feel bad about that.”
He shrugged. “Your opening is coming up. I figured I’d better hop on this while I’m free. Will you be coming by?” His warm hazel gaze seemed hopeful.
“After I drop off Aunt Jo, sure.” Ava appreciated Dylan’s commitment to her tearoom. She couldn’t have asked for a better contractor. “I want to see these cabinets in place. The kitchen will finally look kitchen-y.”
“Yes, it will. I’ll see you later, then.” Still smiling, he headed for his truck.
They watched him pull out of the parking lot.
“Mm-hmm.” Aunt Jo pursed her lips. “I knew it. That boy has a thing for you.”
Kat nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
“Seemed like it to me too,” Sarah added.
“You guys are crazy,” Ava said. “Just because a guy is nice doesn’t mean he ‘has a thing’ for you.”
“I don’t know,” Sarah said. “He offered to work late.”
Kat gave a nod. “Without any prompting, too.”
“Sounds like love to me,” Aunt Jo announced. “Come on, Kat. Let’s go find Sofia. She’s supposed to give me the recipe for that dish she made for Sunday supper at the church.” The older woman went inside and Kat, grinning, followed.
“Ridiculous,” Ava muttered as she moved the empty box to her other hip and started to follow them.
Sarah grabbed Ava’s arm and stopped her. “Ridiculous or not, he’s a nice guy.”
“I don’t have time for nice guys, or bad ones, either. I’ve got this mess with the teas, and the tearoom, and the b—” She caught herself just in time, adding lamely, “And other things, too.”
“Once we get this tea mystery solved, you’ll have more time. Ava, don’t look so worried. It’s all going work out. I know it.”
Despite the circumstances, S
arah’s smile made Ava smile in return.
That was Sarah for you. Her inherent optimism brought hope and happiness to those she loved. Ava still remembered when, three days after her fifth birthday, their mother had brought Sarah home from the hospital. Their father had died only a few months before, and times had been dark. But then Momma had brought home Sarah, who with her toothless grin and belly-deep chuckle had brought them all back to life.
When Ava first held her baby sister, she’d been speechless with delight. Sarah had been tiny and doll-like, and she’d gurgled with happiness as if just as pleased to meet Ava as Ava was to meet her. Since Ava had just celebrated her birthday, she’d believed with all her five-year-old heart that the baby was her own special birthday present.
After Sarah’s birth, Momma was often tired, and since her older sisters rolled their eyes and complained when asked to babysit, playing with and caring for Sarah became Ava’s expected chore, one she enthusiastically accepted, and one she took on full-time fourteen years later when Momma died.
Ava smiled at her sister now. “I wish I believed in me as much as you do.”
“You make it easy,” Sarah said simply. “Now, come on. We’d better get in there. Aunt Jo isn’t what I’d call patient.” She grinned and then went inside, leaving Ava standing at the threshold.
Ava closed her eyes. I don’t deserve that. I should—
“Ava?” Aunt Jo called from the greenhouse. “Are you gonna help or not?”
Ava sighed and went inside.
Kat, Aunt Jo, and Sarah were standing to one side of a long, shiny metal worktable that held a neat row of ginger and peppermint plants. Kristen was at another table, examining a row of lavender plants.
“Where’s Sofia?” Ava set the empty box on the table near Aunt Jo.
“Here!” Sofia came in carrying a flat of dandelions and placed it near the lavender. She was a small, slender woman with thick brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. “This is the last one.”
“All right, then.” Ava turned to her friends. “Divide the plants up between you. We have to examine them one at a time. Every leaf, every stem.”
A Cup of Silver Linings Page 7
