Page 95 of Wild Scottish Rose

But I knew.

Owen was sending them.

And I didn’t know if I was ready to receive them.

But the look on Eugene’s face was too excited, that I couldn’t crush the wee lad, could I? I accepted each rose he brought me, until I had a vase full of flowers, and a heart full of confusion. I wanted to stay mad at Owen, didn’t I? That was a low blow, sending Eugene, because nobody could resist his cuteness.

“I asked you for the truth, didn’t I?”Owen’s words echoed back to me, and I winced. Neither of us were inthe right here, which is also why I was probably still so mad.

Despite my anger with Owen, I carried the vase into my bedroom, and put it on my table.

Damn it, but I missed Owen. He’d done exactly what I’d worried he would, cut me out of his life the minute he’d learned of my magick, and now I had this Owen-sized hole where my heart used to be. I was miserable, and I could kick myself for ever allowing him to kiss me. I’d known, even then, that he was the type of man that I’d never be able to get over.

But with his flowers on my bedside table, I slept peacefully for the first time since the day at the island.

The next day it was chocolates.

Individually wrapped Tunnocks tea cakes. After the third one that Eugene brought over, I stopped him and scribbled a note for Eugene to give him.

That’s enough.

Twenty minutes later, Eugene scuttled back with half a scone in his paw and laid it gently at my feet.

I laughed.

I couldn’t help it.

He was trying, even if he was too chicken to come speak to me to my face.

The next day it was socks.

Hot pink socks with hedgehogs on them to be exact. I loved them.Of courseI did. How could I not?

A small sliver of hope bloomed, yet I didn’t know what to think. Or how I felt about Owen at the moment. All these emotions were jumbled up in my head, and I needed some sort of clarity.

Lia’s jar of tea sat smack dab in the middle of my counter, and I sighed, reaching for the kettle.What if my heart wasn’t ready to be open?The last thought was said in the tone of a petulant child. Great, now I was even annoying myself. I pressed my lips together as I stared out the window to Owen’s cottage, waiting for the water to boil. Maybe I just needed to go talk to him. Clear the air. At the very least I’d get closure, right?

My kettle clicked, and I poured it in my favorite mug of gran’s, one shaped like a squash, and scooped Lia’s loose tea into my diffuser. Dangling it in the hot water, I waited while the tea brewed, tracing a finger over an apple in the bowl on the counter.

Derek’s orchard had produced, fast. About a week later, I’d received a bushel of apples and a bottle of cider along with a handwritten note.

I won’t ask any questions. As I said before, you’ve got your gran’s touch. She’d be proud of you, and we can’t thank you enough for saving our orchard.

I’d tucked the note away, pleased that my magick had worked for the apple trees. I’d also heard that Greta was starting to leave her home a little more. Had a few gentle smiles to share with her kids and others. It warmed my soul, knowing I’d been used to help her in that way. That was what it was all about, right? Helping others. I had to stay focused on the good my magick could do in this world.

The tea was delicious, a delicate herbal and floral blend, that made me feel a touch giddy when I sipped it. Was that the purpose of the tea then? To make me feel lighter? Buzzing a bit, I turned at the tell-tale scratching of Eugene at the door.

“Oh my, well hello to you, good sir.” I pretended to bow for Eugene as he sported a wee bowtie around his neck. In his paws he held a little scroll of paper tied with a ribbon. “Aren’t you the distinguished gentleman?”

Eugene waited, grinning up at me, which I took as my indicator that I was meant to read his note. Unrolling the tube of paper, I read the words out loud.

“You are cordially invited to Eugene’s first movie premier. 7:00 p.m. behind Owen’s cottage. Will you attend?”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Did you make it into the movies, buddy? Well, I suppose I can’t miss that, can I?” Finding a pen, I wrote yes on the note and handed it back to him. Eugene raced off, and I checked the time. Only five hours or so to obsess over seeing Owen again. Lovely.And he was still making movies when that’s what had started our fight in the first place.What was I to make of that?

By the time the evening neared, I’d worked myself into a small tizzy. Agnes had called, talking me down from canceling, and I felt a touch calmer. We’d had some long talks this past week, she and I, and she’d apologized for putting so much pressure on me to try to stop Owen from making the movie. At the end of the day, we realized what we should have understood all along, at some point, the story of the Kelpies would be shared. Owen had been right, it might be better to have some control over it, than to let a random person with an iPhone share it to the world.

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