“What’s this about, Nate?” Sylvia asked. “This is a celebration. For the first time in decades, all the founders are together.” She raised her glass in Maura’s direction, and Irene almost laughed at the look on her mother’s face.

“Which is exactly why I wanted to bring this up,” he pressed. “As we all know, the magic of Yarrow was here long before any of us were alive. It’s Yarrow’s special brand of magic that has made our success possible.”

Irene planted her elbows on the table. “You’re talking about the shadow garden.”

“I am,” Nate said. “The magic in Yarrow’s soil has made our five-star restaurants the best in the state. It saved the bourbon industry, and it’s allowed our economy to flourish, providing for everyone in this town.”

The words almost sounded like a compliment, but Irene didn’t like the way Nate was giving credit to the land alone and not to her family’s relationship with it. It made her wary. Tansy bloomed and fell from his shoulders. It felt like the moment you hear a hornets’ nest but haven’t quite pinpointed where the buzzing is coming from.

Sylvia cut in. “We’re grateful for everything your family has done for the distillery over the years.”

Nate sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, we’re grateful, but we’re also concerned. Something is wrong with our dark corn.”

“What’s this?” Maura asked.

“It’s nothing we need to worry about,” Irene said to her mother. “At the festival, Sylvia mentioned their crop is growing weaker. I handled it.”

“You turned her down,” Nate said.

Irene saw the pride in her mother’s aura, and she indulged in a small smile.

“So, now you’re bringing it up here in the hope that we’ll say yes?” Irene asked. “You trying to broker a deal in front of everyone isn’t going to make a difference.”

“The Bakers also have a vested interest in Yarrow’s prosperity,” Nate said.

“And we’ll make our concerns known if we have any,” Elena said.

“This dinner was never meant to be an apology, was it?” Kaden interrupted.

“Kaden—” Sylvia said.

“No, Mom,” Kaden said. “I’d really hoped that my memories of you had blown your manipulation out of proportion, but this?”

“What exactly is it that you want?” Elena asked. “For the Haywoods to give you more corn?”

“Actually,” Sylvia said, “we were hoping Maura might lease us some of her garden. Perhaps if the corn grew on their soil, we’d have a stronger crop.”

Before the first dark-corn mash, shadow plants wouldn’t grow outside of the Haywood land, but, miraculously, those seeds had, as if the garden had willed it so. If the corn would no longer grow in the Bonner fields, then that was as the garden willed, too. Simple as that.