Page 43 of Wild Scottish Rose

“It feels like that’s the natural progression of things, doesn’t it?” Shona shrugged. “People want more so you deliver more.”

“But at what cost? Your own happiness? Maybe there’s other ways to provide more without it requiring more lift. Like what about if you went into preserves?”

“Jam?” Shona tilted her head at me.

“I don’t know. Whatever the word is for when you put the vegetables in the jar and eat out of them all winter?”

“Canning, preserves, that kind of thing.” Shona’s lip worrying intensified, and I wanted to kiss thetension away. “I can’t say I haven’t thought about it. If I built another greenhouse, I could focus those plants solely on product to be jarred and eaten through the winter. I do have a recipe…”

“For?” I asked, intrigued.

“A spiced aubergine chutney.”

It took me a moment.

“Eggplant?” I asked.

“Och, right. You don’t call it aubergine.”

“No, and I have never heard of an eggplant chutney before, but I am here for it. When can I try some?”

“I don’t make it all that often. It’s just an old recipe of Gran’s.”

“Even better. Invite me over for wine and chutney. I’ll go buy us a baguette. Look”—I nodded to a bakery booth—“I bet they have perfect bread for a chutney.”

“But…” Shona looked around the booth.

“What else needs to get finished today?” I asked, coming forward to put my hands on her shoulders. “I’ll help you.”

“Usually, I take an hour after my booth sells out to visit the other vendors. It’s nice to say hello to everyone. Then I’ll have to go back and check anything that needs taken care of at the gardens. Then, yes, maybe we can have some chutney.”

“Ohhh, it’s a date.”

“Maybe, I said.” Shona rolled her eyes.

“A maybe date. Even better. Keeps you on the edge of excitement all day, doesn’t it?” I grinned at her when she wrinkled her nose at me.

“You’re a bit like an annoying puppy, aren’t you?”

“Puppies are known to be very cute,” I said, threading my arm through hers and tugging her toward the stalls. “Come on, Shona. Show me around.”

The market was a delight for the senses from home-baked goods and seasonal produce, to artisan-crafted candles and home goods. I bought Shona a candle for the autumnal equinox from a pagan candle company and a little felted hedgehog for Eugene. It looked up at me, a sweet smile on its face, reminding me of the hedgie.

“You think Eugene will play with it?” I asked Shona, tucking the stuffed toy into my bag.

“I honestly have no idea. But it’s sweet of you to think of him. They’re quite active at night, so maybe you can give it to him later and see if he likes it.”

“I love that you have a pet hedgie,” I said, watching as Shona’s eyes widened at the word “love.” She was as prickly as a hedgehog when it came to matters of the heart.Has she been hurt before?Or was she reluctant to invest her heart in someone like I was?

“He’s new to the yard,” Shona admitted, picking up a hand-knit scarf in the same shade of blue as her eyes, with pink edging. She held it for a moment, seemingly at war with herself, and then put it back. I snagged it from the table and smiled at the kindly grandmother type who was knitting in the chair by the table.

“This is lovely. Do you make all of these yourself?”

“I do.” The woman put her needles down and beamed at me. “It’s been a real blessing to me in my retirement. Keeps my mind and my thoughts busy.”

“Edith, good to see you. You haven’t been out in a while,” Shona said.

“Knits don’t sell as well in the summer, dear.”

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