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“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I said, wiping my eyes. “This is why waterproof mascara and eyeliner come in so handy,” I tried to quip, but my voice cracked and I stared at the table.
“You’re not okay,” Fancypants said.
“I will be, I promise. I was just remembering…” I paused. I didn’t want to go into it again—every time I talked about Rian’s death, it stabbed another dagger in my heart.
After a moment, Fancypants said, “All right. Can you open the door for me? I’d like to go outside.”
“You’ll be careful? There are hawks and eagles out there and they’d probably love to make their lunch off a baby dragonette like you.” I gazed at him, trying to assess whether he was strong enough to fight them off.
“I can hold my own. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Singed feathers make for wary opponents.” He snorted and this time, two jets of fire appeared. They weren’t huge but I had the feeling he was reining himself in.
“All right. Don’t go far, okay?” I opened the kitchen door and he flew out and headed over toward Bran. I watched him for a moment, then returned to the table. I sat down and opened the planner. I hadn’t used it since I moved here, but now I swallowed my tears and decided it was time to set a firm date for opening my shop.
I glanced at the calendar. It was mid-June, and I could have the shop pulled together within a couple weeks, tops. But I had to also make up spell kits and charms, and those took time and magical energy. July fourth was coming up and that meant people would be heading out for campouts and parties, so I decided to give myself a month and open the shop on July thirteenth—a Saturday. I planned to be open Tuesday through Saturdays, from tena.m.through fourp.m., and I’d take Monday off. Since I still had plenty in savings from my inheritance, I didn’t want to overload myself.
I circled the thirteenth with a big red line and stared at the page, letting it sink in. Putting it in the calendar made it real. This was it—I was doing this. I pulled out a new notebook and opened it to a blank page. Then, using asterisks to mark off each task, I began to list everything I’d need to do to be ready.
* * *
Two hours later,Fancypants was back, lounging on the sofa, looking bored, and I was making lunch for Bran. I wanted to get it out of the way before Faron arrived. The way he had acted the night before had warned me that they might not get along together. As I carried the sack containing a turkey sub, an apple, and four cookies out to him, I was pleasantly surprised to see that he had managed to plant almost all of the herbs, and to label them with white stakes. The beds were lovely and it would be a breeze to keep up with them.
“Thank you!” I said, setting the lunch bag on the corner of one of the beds. They were filled with every herb I could think of to buy, and I noticed he had arranged them in four sections: culinary herbs, culinary herbs that could be used for magic, strictly magical and medicinal herbs. And even a section for baneful herbs. “This is wonderful. You’ve done a fantastic job.”
He stood back, beaming, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m glad you like it. I tried to pattern them in what seemed like the most logical order to me.” He glanced at his phone. “It’s almost eleven. Is there anything else you need me to get to before I have to leave?”
I handed him his lunch. “Not that I can think of. Stick around if you like. I finally decided on an opening day for my shop next month. I need to have a sign made to hang at the end of my driveway, and another one to go over the shed. I should also create a graveled parking space for cars, don’t you think?”
He scanned the area around the workshop. To the left was the utility shed, which sat near the treeline. To the right was the lawn extending to the beginning of the circular driveway.
“I think over there would be best, so they can park right off the drive and not interfere with your parking spaces for friends and family. Also, it creates a bit of a distance between them and your house—an unspoken boundary.” He paused, then asked, “Do you have a restroom in the workshop so your customers don’t have to enter your home?”
I nodded. “A powder room, yes. I asked the contractor who renovated the workshop for me to install one. I also have a sink in the main workshop for washing herbs and other things. I had him build walls so the workshop part is private and away from the area that will serve as the store. All I have to do at this point is stock the shelves and put up the signs.”
“I can make your signs, if you don’t have someone in mind yet.” Bran stared at the workshop. “What do you want them to look like?”
“You don’t have to—” I stopped at his look. He wanted to help. It occurred to me that Bran was a man so caring that it would be easy to take advantage of him. While he wasn’t a pushover, his big heart might get him in trouble. He was lucky he’d been strong enough to avoid having his heart broken so far—though his ex-girlfriend had done a good job of jerking him around.
“I don’t have to what?” he asked.
“If you’re going to go to all the trouble to make my signs, I insist on paying you for the work. You are a generous man and I won’t take advantage of you. I was going to have to pay for them anyway and this way, at least I know who’s doing the work, instead of hiring somebody on Designarama.”
Designarama was a website for artists of all types to sell their wares. The vendors ranged from those who made cringy home-crochet cock cozies to artists who could put the great masters to shame. The main criterion was that all products sold had to be original art, whether it be digital wallpaper or tea cozies. No mass-produced items were allowed, nor AI-generated art.
“I’m pretty handy with signage,” he said. “Meanwhile, I have another hour or so. I noticed that you have a bunch of shelving to install in the utility shed?”
“The shelves go in the workshop, in the sales area. I have everything marked out on the walls. If you want to help me by installing them, I’d appreciate it. But I can’t let you work for free,” I said. “The only friend I’m willing to take advantage of is Bree. She and I have an understanding. We’re there for each other, if at all possible. Please, how much would you charge?”
He sighed. “How about this: I’ll install your shelves and gravel your parking area for five hundred, which will include the gravel and anything else I need to buy.”
I knew that I wouldn’t find a better price. “That’s more than fair.”
“I’ll work till noon, then get home to take care of the farm. It will probably take me several mornings to finish, if that’s all right. Then I can get to the signs.” He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped off his brow. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and it took everything I had to keep from reaching out to wipe it away.
“That sounds good,” I said. “I’d better—” I paused as the sound of a car approached.
Bran and I both turned as the Ford truck pulled into the driveway. The door opened and out jumped Faron Collinsworth, and as he and Bran stared at each other suspiciously, my mouth ran dry.
CHAPTERTWELVE
