Hearth & Cauldron Large Print - Whispering Pines Mysteries, Book 14 (PAPERBACK)

Chapter 1
Seven-year-old Peony nearly broke my heart the way she played with her fingers and sniffled so hard her shoulders jerked with each sharp inhale. My heart was safe with thirteen-year-old Clover, but she was trying her darndest to break my spirit. Leaning forward with elbows resting on her widespread knees and a glare on her face, Clover was as defiant a child as I’d ever seen.
I could have said no . . . No, no, I couldn’t have. My whole life, I’d never been able to say no to people. I did need to move this along, though. I had a shop to open and customers to tend to. Something to bake. There was always something to bake.
“We’re so sorry to bother you with this, Reeva,” their father, Alder, insisted.
“We didn’t know what else to do,” added Aster, their mother. “They say it takes a village to raise a child and well . . .”
“It’s fine that you came to me,” I assured with an empathetic smile. “As high priestess, I see my role as being both guide and rule enforcer. Before I say anything to your girls, however, I have to ask something from the two of you.”
They both froze, their eyes wide. If only they could be that in sync as parents.
“I need to know,” I continued, “that you’ll enforce whatever punishment I give. While it does sometimes take a village to raise kids, and you happen to live in one where the residents are always willing to help when there’s a need, ultimately your daughters are your responsibility.”
“Of course.” Alder gave a firm nod, eyes shifting from me to his daughters, issuing a silent warning.
“Whatever you say, Reeva,” Aster vowed, a beat too late. “We’ll follow it to the letter.”
I glanced at the girls perched on my patio bench. For an instant, they’d both become my daughter. Yasmine at seven after getting caught red-handed cutting into the cake I’d told her was for our neighbor’s birthday party that night. Yasmine at thirteen after sneaking in through the front door at midnight when she’d been told in no uncertain terms that she couldn’t go to that party. I didn’t like the authoritarian side of parenting any more than Alder and Aster Flowers did. But oh, what I wouldn’t give to have my girl sitting before me now, alive and well, anxious for the words about to come out of my mouth.
“First, let’s be sure I’ve got my facts straight.” I took a few steps closer to the girls. “Please correct me if I get anything wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” Clover sassed instantly.
“Clover,” Aster snapped, “I swear to the Goddess, if you don’t check that attitude, I’ll triple whatever punishment Reeva gives.”
The girl remained quiet but made a face at her mother. They should have named her Saguaro or after some other kind of cactus flower. The girl was prickly as a porcupine.