“What’s that?” I asked.
“Apothecary bag,” Callan said, deftly opening a jar. He removed the cloth from my hand and dabbed salve on the wound. I inhaled a potent mixture of eucalyptus, calendula, pomegranate, and other herbs as the cool salve sank into my skin.
My eyes widened as, within seconds, the slice on my palm sealed. By the time all the ointment had sunk into my skin, my palm was smooth and pain free, as if the cut had never been there.
“How did you… What is that?” I asked, eying the glass vial with new awe.
“It’s a wound-healing concoction I’ve been working on for a while. I test it whenever I get minor cuts rock climbing. It hasn’t failed me yet.”
“But that’s like… a miracle medicine. You could make a fortune selling that.”
Callan shook his head, a soft smile touching his lips as heran a finger over my healed palm. “I don’t want to make money from it. I want it to help people. But the human medical market isn’t ready for this yet. Maybe it’ll be a project I ‘complete’ when I’m working on my PhD. If my mom hasn’t forced me into a senator seat by then.”
I studied Callan’s face as he gently released my hand and repacked his apothecary bag. He was a treasure.Does he know it? Do his parents know it? His brother? How can they not be shouting from the rooftops how proud they are of him?
I was so full of emotion I couldn’t express that all I could do was squeeze my hands together and take a deep breath.
Finally, I settled on the only words that felt right, even though I knew they weren’t nearly enough. “The world is lucky to have you, Callan Rhodes.”
He turned back to me, looking so startled that it made my chest hurt. With a note of forced levity in his voice, he said, “Right back at you, local.”
Chapter Six
Aunt Vera arrived at the café shortly after Callan departed. She breezed into the room in a blur of scarlet coat, thick gray scarf, large vegan-leather bag, and a sweet perfume I’d made her for Christmas.
“How did your study session go?” she asked and kissed me on the cheek.
“Good. Thanks for letting us use the space. And for the scones. Everyone was raving about them.”
“Of course they were.” Aunt Vera nodded then hung her coat on a rack in the back room. “Are you on your way out? I came in to experiment with a few recipes. You’re welcome to join me.”
I glanced at my watch and was relieved to see that I had some time to spare. I hadn’t had any time with my aunt since her New Year’s trip to visit the family of her husband, Bryce.
“I’d love to,” I said, moving to the sink to wash up. As I scrubbed my hands with the crisp lemon soap, I again marveledat the complete lack of evidence that I had cut myself only a few minutes ago.
“Are you ready for spring classes to start? You’re still taking one class at SCC, right?” Aunt Vera asked.
“Yes, prop design is a year-long class. We’re making the decorations forA Midsummer Night’s Dream, which the drama classes will perform later in the semester. I’m excited to see everything come together.”
“I can’t wait to see it. Speaking of spring, I was thinking about trying something different that we can launch once it warms up. What do you think of flower-flavored cookies?”
“Flower-flavored?” I scrunched up my nose. “Which flavors?”
“Well, we’re already famous for our lavender scones. Maybe we branch out to hibiscus, jasmine, honeysuckle.”
“Where are you going to source those?” We had an abundance of each of those at Evergreen Academy, but I couldn’t share that information.
“I thought I could get a garden growing out at our house. Get it certified then do a farm-to-table kind of thing.”
She opened her purse and pulled out a paper-wrapped package. As she unfolded it, I spotted the bright pink of camellia. “Options are limited in the winter, but I’m going to experiment with these.”
“What are you going to do? Grind up the flowers?”
“I’m not sure yet,” my aunt admitted.
“I talked to Bryce while you were visiting his family,” I began, deciding it was as good a time as any to broach the subject. “He said you were talking about flowers a lot and putting bouquets all over his relative’s home.”
“Who doesn’t love flowers? They were all into it. Did he tell you I arranged the bouquets myself?”
