Hitched & Hitched Again: A Comedy of Marital Mayhem novel Chapter 1294

Late summer in the deep woods meant one thing: mosquitoes. Lots of them. Thankfully, Quincy’s homemade bug spray worked like a charm.

No need for frantic swatting or desperate waving—one whiff of that spray and the bugs kept their distance, drifting off before they came anywhere near.

Elysia had spent enough time up here to know her way around the herb garden blindfolded. She led Baby straight through the brambles, past the old oak, and right to the patch where the wild herbs grew thick and wild.

This mountain was a treasure trove. Rare medicinal plants that city doctors would pay a fortune for? Here, they grew like dandelions in a summer lawn.

Tracey was already there, kneeling in the dirt with her old wicker basket, plucking leaves with the practiced ease of someone who’d done this a hundred times before. She spotted Elysia and Baby and beamed, waving them over.

“Elysia!” she called, her voice bright as morning.

Elysia grinned, taking Baby by the hand and walking over. “We brought you breakfast, Grandma. Better eat it while it’s still hot—I’ll take over here.”

Tracey set down her basket and scooped Baby up for a kiss, not bothering with any of that ‘oh, you didn’t have to’ business. “You start with this patch. When you’re done, move over to the next one, alright?”

“Got it. Are these herbs for the antidote?” Elysia asked, eyeing the greenery.

A shadow flickered across Tracey’s face. “That’s right. I’m hoping I can crack it with these common herbs. If not, we’ll have to try something else.”

She didn’t say it, but Elysia knew what she meant: fancy recipes were fine for the rich, but if the antidote cost a fortune, it wouldn’t help anyone who really needed it. If things ever got bad, if the outbreak spread, even the government might struggle to afford the cure. But if she could make it cheap enough? Maybe it could be handed out for free—or at least be something ordinary folks could actually buy.

Elysia nodded, pulling on her gloves. “Alright, Baby, you stay with Great-Grandma, okay? Mommy’s got some work to do.”

Baby looked up, big-eyed. “Can I help, Mommy?”

A shame, really.

Tracey had never thought much about finding a student when she was younger. But now, with her hands not as steady and her knees creaky, she felt the urge. Was it for her own sake, or for all those folks out there who couldn’t afford a doctor’s visit?

Getting sick was easy. Getting help was hard—and expensive.

She knew her skills shouldn’t be lost. But she wouldn’t just teach anyone. There were plenty of students out there who’d jump at the chance, but Tracey wanted someone who really belonged. Someone who’d share her heart, not just her knowledge.

She was still lost in thought when Baby tugged at her sleeve. “Great-Grandma, why are you sighing? Don’t you want your breakfast?”

Tracey shook herself and laughed. “Oh, honey, I love your mommy’s cooking. I was just thinking how old and slow I’ve gotten—your mommy picks herbs way faster than I do these days!”