Aunt Jo swung her feet out, her cane in one hand, her huge purse in the other. Dylan helped her out of the truck and then followed her to where Ava, Sarah, and Kat stood. Aunt Jo’s flowered dress and red wool coat were a stark contrast to Dylan’s flannel, jeans, and work boots.
“Aunt Jo, what are you doing here? Did I forget your tea?” Ava rubbed her forehead, trying to remember her deliveries from yesterday. “I thought I dropped it off, but maybe I—”
“I’ve got it right here.” Aunt Jo reached into her purse and pulled out her tea canister. “I brought it so you could test it.”
“Test it?”
“To make sure it’s not poison or anything.”
Ava’s face heated.
Dylan turned to Aunt Jo. “You’ve been using Ava’s teas for years. I don’t know how many times you’ve told me that your arthritis practically disappeared when you started taking that tea at bedtime.”
“What do you know about tea? You don’t even like it.” Aunt Jo’s bright brown gaze turned to Ava. “Is it true what they’re saying about your teas? That they’ve been poisoned?”
“No, no! It’s just…” Ava took a breath. “There was something wrong with three teas I made on a particular day. Just those three, and no more.”
Sarah brightened. “They were all made on the same day?”
Ava nodded. “So far it doesn’t seem any others were affected.”
“That’s a relief,” Kat said.
“It is if I can figure out what went wrong.”
Aunt Jo put her canister back into her purse. “I guess I’ll just hang on to this then. I was afraid I’d have to reuse my old tea leaves until you sorted things out. They would work, but the tea would be weak.”
“You keep your old tea leaves?” Kat asked curiously.
“I mix them with potting soil. My petunias love them.”
Sarah’s attention was still on Ava. “You look a lot more hopeful this afternoon than you did at lunch.”
“I make teas in groups that use similar ingredients. These three teas had four in common: lavender, peppermint, ginger, and dandelion root. Something had to have happened to one of the plants I used. Sofia and Kristen are pulling all of them out right now so we can look for fungal infections, thrips, scales—something that might affect a plant’s health.”
“We can help,” Kat said.
“I’ll come too,” Aunt Jo announced. “Dylan, you might have to wait.”
“I need to get back to the tearoom.” He smiled at Ava. “I got a call that your cabinets are ready.”
“They’re early!” Ava exclaimed, ridiculously grateful for some good news.
“Surprised me too. I was on my way to pick them up when Aunt Jo called and asked for a ride. If I work a little extra, I should be able to get most of them installed today.”
“By all means, go get them. I’ll take Aunt Jo home later.”
“We’ll have to pick up Moon Pie from his spa day,” Aunt Jo said. “He’s at Paw Printz getting his hair done.”
Ava smiled. “No problem. It’s near my tearoom. Dylan, thanks for offering to work late. I feel bad about that.”
He shrugged. “Your opening is coming up. I figured I’d better hop on this while I’m free. Will you be coming by?” His warm hazel gaze seemed hopeful.
“After I drop off Aunt Jo, sure.” Ava appreciated Dylan’s commitment to her tearoom. She couldn’t have asked for a better contractor. “I want to see these cabinets in place. The kitchen will finally look kitchen-y.”
“Yes, it will. I’ll see you later, then.” Still smiling, he headed for his truck.
They watched him pull out of the parking lot.
“Mm-hmm.” Aunt Jo pursed her lips. “I knew it. That boy has a thing for you.”
Kat nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
“Seemed like it to me too,” Sarah added.
“You guys are crazy,” Ava said. “Just because a guy is nice doesn’t mean he ‘has a thing’ for you.”
“I don’t know,” Sarah said. “He offered to work late.”
Kat gave a nod. “Without any prompting, too.”
“Sounds like love to me,” Aunt Jo announced. “Come on, Kat. Let’s go find Sofia. She’s supposed to give me the recipe for that dish she made for Sunday supper at the church.” The older woman went inside and Kat, grinning, followed.
“Ridiculous,” Ava muttered as she moved the empty box to her other hip and started to follow them.
Sarah grabbed Ava’s arm and stopped her. “Ridiculous or not, he’s a nice guy.”
“I don’t have time for nice guys, or bad ones, either. I’ve got this mess with the teas, and the tearoom, and the b—” She caught herself just in time, adding lamely, “And other things, too.”
“Once we get this tea mystery solved, you’ll have more time. Ava, don’t look so worried. It’s all going work out. I know it.”
Despite the circumstances, Sarah’s smile made Ava smile in return.
That was Sarah for you. Her inherent optimism brought hope and happiness to those she loved. Ava still remembered when, three days after her fifth birthday, their mother had brought Sarah home from the hospital. Their father had died only a few months before, and times had been dark. But then Momma had brought home Sarah, who with her toothless grin and belly-deep chuckle had brought them all back to life.
When Ava first held her baby sister, she’d been speechless with delight. Sarah had been tiny and doll-like, and she’d gurgled with happiness as if just as pleased to meet Ava as Ava was to meet her. Since Ava had just celebrated her birthday, she’d believed with all her five-year-old heart that the baby was her own special birthday present.
After Sarah’s birth, Momma was often tired, and since her older sisters rolled their eyes and complained when asked to babysit, playing with and caring for Sarah became Ava’s expected chore, one she enthusiastically accepted, and one she took on full-time fourteen years later when Momma died.
Ava smiled at her sister now. “I wish I believed in me as much as you do.”
“You make it easy,” Sarah said simply. “Now, come on. We’d better get in there. Aunt Jo isn’t what I’d call patient.” She grinned and then went inside, leaving Ava standing at the threshold.
Ava closed her eyes. I don’t deserve that. I should—
“Ava?” Aunt Jo called from the greenhouse. “Are you gonna help or not?”
Ava sighed and went inside.
Kat, Aunt Jo, and Sarah were standing to one side of a long, shiny metal worktable that held a neat row of ginger and peppermint plants. Kristen was at another table, examining a row of lavender plants.
“Where’s Sofia?” Ava set the empty box on the table near Aunt Jo.
“Here!” Sofia came in carrying a flat of dandelions and placed it near the lavender. She was a small, slender woman with thick brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. “This is the last one.”
“All right, then.” Ava turned to her friends. “Divide the plants up between you. We have to examine them one at a time. Every leaf, every stem.”