when you’re ready to go.”
“I’ll be just a second.” Kyle closed the door. Rowen was just finishing her pancake. He set the frying pan back on the burner and finished cooking the second Mickey.
“Rowen, hon, something’s come up, and I have to go with Fitz to check up on a lady who’s been very sick. Ruth will be across the hall. If I’m not back before she has to leave for church, she’ll take you with her and I’ll pick you up there a little later.” He plopped the second pancake onto her plate and went into his bedroom to get dressed, talking all the while. “Go ahead and finish your breakfast but get dressed in case I’m late, okay?”
“Yeah.” She was rifling through the center of the paper in search of the comics. “Aren’t you going to have any breakfast?”
“I had some juice, but I’ve got to hurry,” Kyle said as he came back into the kitchen hastily buttoning his shirt. “Don’t worry, I’ll have an extra-big lunch.” The truth was, he had lost his appetite knowing what he would be dealing with when he and Fitz got to the old woman’s house. He stepped into his boots and threw on his coat. “Now don’t putter--you need to be ready if I’m not back or Ruth will squawk at you.”
“I know, Dad,” Rowen said, and Kyle hurried out the front door.
~~~
Daisy Delaine had hardly slept.
After Kyle and Leroy had admonished her to go inside during the snowstorm, she had returned to her front yard and gathered two pots of the fluffy new snow. By the time the morning light revealed her mobile home to be half-buried in snowdrifts, the kitchen counter was littered with ingredients—rosehips, cinnamon, molasses, crushed cranberries, and a number of unlabeled bottles of herbs and powders—and two pots of potion simmered on the stove. Daisy tended her cooking pots carefully, humming to herself and occasionally bursting into full song. She directed her lyrics toward a charcoal-colored mop of fur that watched her from a kitchen chair. In response to Daisy’s serenade, the mop sat up and wagged its tail.
The red substance in the larger pot had the consistency of raspberry syrup. Crimson bubbles puckered to the surface, releasing puffs of a sweet, cinnamon scent. Daisy stirred the mixture vigorously and lifted a spoonful to her nose. “Smells done to me! Nice and thick, too. We’ll just let our Valentine’s Day potion sit for a while to cool, won’t we, Smudgie?”
Smudgie whined and lay back down on the chair. Daisy turned off the stove burner beneath the pot of red liquid and focused her attention on the smaller pan.
Its contents didn’t smell nearly as pleasant as the red Valentine’s Day potion.
Daisy whisked the watery, brownish-green mixture that simmered in the smaller pot. “Needs more sassafras,” she muttered. She glanced around her kitchen, finally reaching for an unmarked jar of brown powder. She unscrewed its lid and shook a small heap of the powder into the murky mixture.
“Not long now, Smudgie, not long at all,” Daisy cooed to the dog as she resumed her stirring. “We’ll have this to Mary in a flash, we will, and she’ll be better in no time.”
Once the powdered root had dissolved, Daisy sniffed the steam rising from the pot and removed a clean jar from her cupboard. This has to help , she thought as she ladled the jar full of the brownish-green liquid. It’s my strongest batch yet! Daisy gazed at the sealed jar for a moment and then planted a kiss squarely on its lid.
As she switched off the second stove burner, her face brightened and she turned again to the little gray dog. “Maybe after I take the healing potion to Father O’Brien, I should take some samples of the Valentine’s Day potion to the neighbors. We could even get some advance orders this year, couldn’t we?” Smudgie yipped and wagged.
Daisy ladled some of the fragrant red liquid into a few other empty jelly jars and screwed the lids on tightly. She then put on a parka.
“Now
“I’ll be just a second.” Kyle closed the door. Rowen was just finishing her pancake. He set the frying pan back on the burner and finished cooking the second Mickey.
“Rowen, hon, something’s come up, and I have to go with Fitz to check up on a lady who’s been very sick. Ruth will be across the hall. If I’m not back before she has to leave for church, she’ll take you with her and I’ll pick you up there a little later.” He plopped the second pancake onto her plate and went into his bedroom to get dressed, talking all the while. “Go ahead and finish your breakfast but get dressed in case I’m late, okay?”
“Yeah.” She was rifling through the center of the paper in search of the comics. “Aren’t you going to have any breakfast?”
“I had some juice, but I’ve got to hurry,” Kyle said as he came back into the kitchen hastily buttoning his shirt. “Don’t worry, I’ll have an extra-big lunch.” The truth was, he had lost his appetite knowing what he would be dealing with when he and Fitz got to the old woman’s house. He stepped into his boots and threw on his coat. “Now don’t putter--you need to be ready if I’m not back or Ruth will squawk at you.”
“I know, Dad,” Rowen said, and Kyle hurried out the front door.
~~~
Daisy Delaine had hardly slept.
After Kyle and Leroy had admonished her to go inside during the snowstorm, she had returned to her front yard and gathered two pots of the fluffy new snow. By the time the morning light revealed her mobile home to be half-buried in snowdrifts, the kitchen counter was littered with ingredients—rosehips, cinnamon, molasses, crushed cranberries, and a number of unlabeled bottles of herbs and powders—and two pots of potion simmered on the stove. Daisy tended her cooking pots carefully, humming to herself and occasionally bursting into full song. She directed her lyrics toward a charcoal-colored mop of fur that watched her from a kitchen chair. In response to Daisy’s serenade, the mop sat up and wagged its tail.
The red substance in the larger pot had the consistency of raspberry syrup. Crimson bubbles puckered to the surface, releasing puffs of a sweet, cinnamon scent. Daisy stirred the mixture vigorously and lifted a spoonful to her nose. “Smells done to me! Nice and thick, too. We’ll just let our Valentine’s Day potion sit for a while to cool, won’t we, Smudgie?”
Smudgie whined and lay back down on the chair. Daisy turned off the stove burner beneath the pot of red liquid and focused her attention on the smaller pan.
Its contents didn’t smell nearly as pleasant as the red Valentine’s Day potion.
Daisy whisked the watery, brownish-green mixture that simmered in the smaller pot. “Needs more sassafras,” she muttered. She glanced around her kitchen, finally reaching for an unmarked jar of brown powder. She unscrewed its lid and shook a small heap of the powder into the murky mixture.
“Not long now, Smudgie, not long at all,” Daisy cooed to the dog as she resumed her stirring. “We’ll have this to Mary in a flash, we will, and she’ll be better in no time.”
Once the powdered root had dissolved, Daisy sniffed the steam rising from the pot and removed a clean jar from her cupboard. This has to help , she thought as she ladled the jar full of the brownish-green liquid. It’s my strongest batch yet! Daisy gazed at the sealed jar for a moment and then planted a kiss squarely on its lid.
As she switched off the second stove burner, her face brightened and she turned again to the little gray dog. “Maybe after I take the healing potion to Father O’Brien, I should take some samples of the Valentine’s Day potion to the neighbors. We could even get some advance orders this year, couldn’t we?” Smudgie yipped and wagged.
Daisy ladled some of the fragrant red liquid into a few other empty jelly jars and screwed the lids on tightly. She then put on a parka.
“Now
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