All at once, Irene’s eyes went wide. “Kaden Bonner.” She whispered his name like she only just realized what it meant to have him standing in front of her. “You’re back.”

“I am.” He hesitated, not sure how far to push her. “And it sounds like you’re pissed at my mom. Why am I not surprised?”

“She doesn’t know you’re here?”

“She doesn’t,” Kaden said.

“And you don’t want to be here,” Irene said.

“Not particularly.”

Irene considered him. “Maybe it is you.”

“Maybe what is me?”

She shook her head and the cicada took off. “Help me bring this case inside, and I’ll get you a cup of tea.”

Kaden lifted the crate and carried it up the stairs through the back door. Irene nodded to a stack of similar boxes in the corner. “Set it there for now.”

Then she headed into the shop, pulling jars from the shelves. Kaden followed her.

“Where did I put the lavender?” She bit her lip. “Never mind.” She reached for one of the circular racks overhead and pulled a few purple flowers free. “Sit,” she said with a nod at a pair of armchairs in the corner.

So he sat, watching as she filled a mug with leaves and flowers and water. Her eyes lifted from the rim, met his across the room, and she shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

“Out there,” he said, unsure how to ask the question, “did you… remember me?”

Irene’s eyebrows rose. “Actually, no. I mean, once you told me who you were, I remembered Nate had an older brother. But you left so long ago.”

Kaden nodded slowly. “Summer of ’97.”

“No wonder I don’t remember you actually leaving.” She crossed the room and sat down in the chair beside him. She pressed the mug into his hands. “Drink.”

“How much?”

“All of it except for a tablespoon.”

“No, I mean how much for the tea.”

“On the house,” she said. “As long as you’ll let me read your leaves.”

Kaden glanced up at the sign over the register and the price this place charged for a tea-leaf reading. “What’s in it?”

“Lemon balm. Dandelion. Stinging nettle.”

“And lavender,” Kaden said.

Irene’s lips tilted up. “And lavender.”

Kaden lifted the teacup toward her in a toast. The contents tasted like forest and sunshine and warmed him all the way down.

“It’s good to see you, by the way. How’ve you been?” He attempted to make conversation, trying to understand what had happened since he’d been gone. It had been a long time. Long enough, apparently, for him to be forgotten. The thought stung, but it’s what he’d wanted. To leave Yarrow behind forever.

Irene arched an eyebrow. “Don’t swallow the leaves.”

He took another sip and considered her. “I’m guessing you and my brother broke things off?”