“You know I’m not that kind of witch.”

Clem wasn’t a Haywood, but she’d been around Irene’s family long enough to know as much. Still, Irene quirked her lips before she rifled through another row of herbs. Cloves to clear a lingering charm. Angelica to fight bewitchment. Sylvia clearly had her own sort of influence—Addison selling her the rosemary and her mother ever agreeing to give the woman corn seeds from the shadow garden all those years ago were both a testament to that.

Irene spooned the concoction into a teacup and added boiling water.

Clem stepped up beside her and wafted the steam toward her. “Doesn’t smell as bad as I expected,” Clem said. “You want to sell this?” That was Clem, always thinking about their business. It was part of what made Lavender & Lemon Balm so successful outside of Irene’s magic. While Irene could put together teas on instinct, Clem could see the opportunity behind them.

“I don’t see why not,” Irene said. “With the sort of energy that woman carries around? Everyone in town should drink this daily. Just to be safe.”

She crossed the shop and grabbed the bottle of Bonner’s ten-year that Sylvia had dropped off as a thank you. The label read Danielle. Irene held it high and examined the amber-colored liquid beneath the warm, yellow light.

“No, you don’t!” Clem jumped into action, running across the room to rescue the bourbon. They may have had no intention of ever touching the stuff, but it was worth almost two hundred dollars. “I’ll take that,” Clem said. “Since I know you won’t be drinking it.”

Irene rolled her eyes and sat down at the table. Once the tea finished steeping, she took a sip, letting the herbs that floated to the top of the cup press against her lips, but not swallowing them. She needed every last leaf for her reading.

The front door opened, and Addison and Quinn stepped through. Quinn went around to the other side of the register and stashed the paperwork from that morning’s shadow garden haul, then wrapped an arm around Clem’s waist and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Hey, Mama,” Quinn said.

Clem ruffled her hair. It was only a couple years after the death of Irene’s brother that Clem had started dating Quinn’s mother, Taylor. They’d been together ever since, and though they hadn’t been able to get married until 2015, it hadn’t made them any less of a family.