Page 14

“I don’t know the least bit about tea. But I can learn. The real focus of the shop will be the cookies.”

“Och?” Peggy said, raising an eyebrow questioningly. “Cookies? Ye mean those wee biscuits with the pretty designs on top?”

I nodded and moved to the other side of the counter to grab the ones I’d spent the better part of the night decorating instead of lying in bed thinking about Mac flying back to the other side of the world, or what I’d given up when I’d chosen to stay.

Still sorely lacking a cow cookie cutter, something I was determined to remedy soon, I’d opted for cute sheep for this batch, giving them little black faces and silvery white fluffy curls. Once I’d grown tired of piping swirl after swirl, I’d moved to pumpkins and cornucopias, inspired by the faint scent of fall riding the breeze from the window I’d opened to cool off the kitchen while I baked.

“These are lovely!” Peggy cried as she peered into the box that I held out to her. “Far too pretty tae eat!”

Chuckling, I jiggled the box gently at her. “Please, take one. It would be a shame to let them go to waste. Their evanescence is part of what makes them special. ‘Temporary art, meant to be consumed and remembered rather than preserved’,” I said, quoting a popular cookie artist I followed online.

“Weel, if ye insist,” she said as she reached into the box to pluck out a little sheep.

My stomach did a little happy flip when her eyes widened with delight after her first bite.

“Och! These are lovely! Yer shop is going tae be a wonder. No one on the high street sells anything like these.” Her excitement dimmed as she looked at the counter and around the shop.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly flooded with anxiety.

“Where’ll ye display them? Can’t be on the counter. Germs, ye ken?” She gestured to the counter with a frown.

The decision was still so fresh, I hadn’t given much thought to displays or anything else. The counter was lovely, made of ancient wood, spanning half the length of the shop, but there was absolutely no way I could serve food without putting up some sort of barrier to keep customers from touching or sneezing on the cookies. I frowned.

“You’re right. I guess I’ll need a display case of some sort.”

Add that to the long list of things to figure out. My heart sank. The learning curve was going to be steep.

Peggy flashed me a reassuring smile. “Dinna fash yerself. Our Nial’ll whip ye one up in a jiff. He’ll make it suit. Ye’ll see.”

My eyes shot up in surprise.

“Aye,” Peggy said. “He’s a good egg, our Nial. Has a way with wood, ye ken.” She tapped the side of her nose and pursed her mouth as she nodded. “Claimsit tells him what it wants tae be, and he just does what it says. Makes beautiful things, he does.”

She laughed and winked when my eyes widened in surprise. Aside from having never heard of magic that allowed someone to speak to inanimate objects like that, it had been hammered into me when I was growing up that only women could manipulate magic.

“’Course, he could be having us on, but the results dinna lie.”

“Is he…?” I started, then stopped, unsure whether it was a polite question to ask a near-stranger. Curiosity won out. “Are you…?” I gulped. “Are you a witch?”

“Witch?” Peggy laughed. “With a pointy hat and a broom tae fly on? Naething liken that, but I do have a way wi’ plants masel.”

“Your plants… talk to you?” I asked. It would certainly explain why her garden still looked lush and vibrant even though fall was well underway. Portney had its fair share of earth witches, so I was on more familiar ground with Peggy’s revelation. But I’d never encountered someone who could manipulate magic and didn’t proudly proclaim that they were a witch.

“Och, nae. More that they let me know what they need so I can give it tae them, ye ken? Just a touch of the earth magics.” Peggy waved her hand dismissively as though it was entirely normal for people to talk to their plants to learn what they needed.

If that had been the case, the plants in my care wouldn’t all end up shriveled and brown.

“Does everyone in Banhaven have a…” The words failed me.

“A wee touch of magic?” Peggy suggested with a smile.

I nodded.

“Nae. But some do. Our family all have a wee something. Our Nial with the wood. Our Fiona with the tea. Ma mam had a way wi’ the weather. Always knew when tae bring in the wash. Helpful, that.” Peggy pursed her lips and nodded sagely.

I couldn’t help laughing.

“What’s funny ’bout the wash?” Peggy asked, looking amused at my delight.