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“It’s really nice to meet you. Thank you for these, they are delicious.” I picked up my second scone to go, knowing it was a touch rude, but my mind was spinning with an idea. “Catriona, will you be around for a bit? Would you like to stop by the restaurant, say in an hour or two? Or perhaps tomorrow? I have a few things to figure out right now, but I’d have some time to show you the place later today or tomorrow if you’re interested.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world, dear. I’ll wander on down after our chat.” Catriona smiled up at me, a warm and open smile, and I berated myself for my earlier annoyance with her.
“Great, see you later.” I looked down at where both dogs had planted themselves at my feet, their eyes on my scone. “Not a chance, kids. Your mom would kill me. This will give you an upset tummy.”
Sir Buster growled at me, and Lady Lola rolled on her back.
“Interesting tactics. Submission and aggressiveness. And yet, neither will work.”
“They’re shameless, really.” Hilda sighed.
I left the two women chatting, my brain busy with an idea I’d had. Honestly, I’d quite forgotten about the broonie until I’d unlocked the kitchen doors and propped them open to encourage the light breeze to work its way into the room. Only when I saw the kitchen, entirely put to rights, ingredients that I’d left out the day before when we’d left in a hurry tidied and stacked, did I remember that I was dealing with a small elf goblin man thing.
A shiver went through me as my nerves kicked up, but Agnes hadn’t said he would be violent or to be considered a threat—she’d merely mentioned mischievous. I took the clean kitchen to be a good sign and that he was happy about the cream we’d left out for him.
But now…how the hell did I befriend a broonie? A part of me desperately wanted to call for help, but that went against everything that I’d ever stood for. So, instead I did what I’d always done—I handled it myself.
“Hello?” I called, stepping tentatively inside, and hitting the switch for the lights. When silence greeted me, I shrugged and walked to the table, putting the book of spells down on the box that held the cutting board Munroe had given me. “Um, well, thank you for cleaning up in here. I don’t like to leave a mess in the kitchen, so it’s very kind of you to help. I really appreciate it.”
A whisper of something sounded in the other room, and the hair at the back of my neck rose, but nothing else followed.
“So, um, if you wanted to get to know each other, I’d be fine with that as well. Or are you hungry? I see the cream is gone. What…is there anything else you like to eat?”
At that, something clattered in the other room.
Ah-ha. The way to any man’s heart—through food. Well, the poor thing couldn’t subsist on cream alone, right? I’d just have to see how he felt about cookies.
“I’m going to make up a batch of cookies because I owe some people an apology. I’ll save some for you. Would you like that?”
Something that sounded suspiciously like “Aye” drifted in from the other room, and I waited, my eyes on the door to the banquet hall that was cracked open. When nothing appeared, I sighed and went to the pantry to take inventory of my ingredients. I’d put an order in for some staples before I’d arrived and was pleased to see the refrigerator and pantry were well-stocked with the basics. Keeping it simple, I decided on cinnamon oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.
Testing the oven, I was pleased to see it had been outfitted with a modern burner system. It took me a moment to figure out the Celsius to Fahrenheit degrees, consulting my phone to make the conversion for me, but then it was just like old times. I picked one of my favorite soulful cooking playlists from my phone, turned it up, and bent to work, letting my mind drift back to the idea I’d had earlier.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the sadness in Catriona’s eyes when she spoke of baking her bread. While I could bake bread, it wasn’t where my talents lay. I wondered if there was a recipe in my book that might be of help to her. It was worth a shot, right? And, at the very least, it might assuage some of my guilt for thinking about pushing her into the street when she was openly flirting with Munroe. Nevertheless, I knew a woman in pain, and maybe, with my newly discovered Kitchen Witch powers, I could fix something up for her. After I’d slid the cookies in the oven and set the timer, I rested one hip against the counter as I thumbed through the book.
“Ah-ha! I knew it,” I said, delight filling me as I found a page for arthritis. “Interesting.” Nigella seeds were listed as one of the potential ingredients that could be used in the recipe, and I wondered if Catriona had done some research herself. “So what I’m seeing here is a variety of options that I can put together.” Talking to myself while cooking was pretty much the norm for me, and I often forgot other people were around in the kitchen until they answered me when I spoke. Now, I muttered to myself as I read through the variations. The spell indicated that I could make a tea, an ointment, a soup, or a tincture. I eyed up the recipe that involved a ginger and hot pepper tea, but I kept circling back to the one that involved stinging nettles. I’d been certain I’d seen a batch nearby recently.
Humming to myself, I dug in a drawer until I found a pair of kitchen shears and some rubber gloves for cleaning dishes. Then, I cast my mind back to where I’d last spied a patch of nettles. It had been by the tool shed when we went on our ritual walk, and Archie had warned me away from them. Grabbing a bowl, I sought them out and cut a few bunches and placed them gingerly in the bowl. Stinging nettles could be nasty if they touched the skin, and even I, a city girl, knew to take care with them. Returning to the kitchen, I pulled up short.
The rest of the spell ingredients had been assembled neatly for me on the prep table.
My alarm for the cookies went off, and I jumped about a foot in the air, barely catching myself from dropping the bowl of nettles.Lovely.I was going to have to adjust to having a broonie around and, until then, it seemed I’d constantly be on edge. Putting the bowl on the table, I grabbed my oven mitts and took the trays of cookies from the oven and put them on racks to cool. Then I turned to study the ingredients laid out on the table.
The healing recipe was for a garlic, nettle, and potato soup with onion and a touch of turmeric as well. All of these ingredients were simple, yet I suspected the combination of garlic, nettle, and turmeric would be the ingredients that would provide the most healing properties for Catriona. I grabbed the olive oil and poured it over the nettles, keeping my gloves on as I massaged the leaves until they were tender, and then cut the stalks from the leaves. In moments, I had the garlic and onion cooking in a pot, before I added water, bouillon, and the potatoes I’d neatly diced. While I waited for the water to start simmering, I checked the cookies and found them to have cooled just enough that I could slide a few onto a plate.
Taking a deep breath, and then another, I steeled my resolve before I tiptoed to the open doorway to the banquet hall. Peering inside, my eyes darted among the stacks of furniture for any creatures that may be hiding. When nothing moved, or jumped out at me from the dark corners, I bent and placed the plate on the floor.
“Thank you for your help in the kitchen.” Turning to go, I paused and then turned back around. “Um, if we’re going to, like work together, do you have a name? Should I call you something?”
A soft mutter greeted me from far across the room. My pulse picked up, and I steadied my breathing.
“Um, I didn’t quite catch that. Was it David, you said?”
Something clattered to the floor, and there was an indignant sound.
“Okay, not David. Try again? It’s hard to hear you.” I seriously could not believe I was having a conversation with a kitchen goblin. Another muttered response, and I thought for a moment, trying to pick out the sounds.
“Rice?” I said, confused.
