Page 14 of Wild Scottish Rose

“An elf?” I squeaked.

“Sure thing. The ugliest, cutest little guy I ever did see. If he shows himself that is. We’ve learned to love him, even though he tests our patience regularly.” Sophie sighed.

I nodded, my eyes wide, wondering if there was something in the water in Loren Brae that was driving us all a bit mad.Says the girl who thinks she saw a gnome in her tomato plants.

“Here’s the thing. Brice gave Lia an old book, passed down through generations, with recipes and spells in it. What’s most interesting is that in the margins are notes andannotations, some of which include information about the lives of the women writing in it. From what we can determine, it seems like some of the members of the Order will get a familiar of sorts.”

“A familiar?” I raised an eyebrow.

“You know, like when a witch has her talking black cat help her with spells?” Sophie said, and I nodded, now understanding what she meant.

“What’s yours then?” I asked Sophie. Her shoulders slumped.

“I didn’t get one. Unless you count Clyde.”

“Is that the ghost coo that supposedly haunts the castle?” I’d heard tell of this mysterious ghost coo through the years, and the thought had always sent me into fits of giggles. Even now, despite the seriousness of the discussion, I wanted to giggle.

“Oh, it’s not supposed. He definitely haunts it. Like a toddler hopped up on too much sugar,” Sophie grumbled.

“Amazing,” I said. “But, again, why me? What led you to think that I was the next in line?”

Because you can talk to plants and make them grow?

I pushed that thought away and wondered just when the right time would be to share some of this information with my friends. I’d have to, I realized, because it probably took a lot of courage for them to come to me with this tale of legends and magick.

“It’s interesting, because you’ve already started to form a partnership with Lia that is mirrored throughout history in her book. The garden witch and the kitchen witch always worked hand in hand together. You’ve, very naturally, already started supplying Lia with herbs andflowers for her tables, and so this would be a natural extension of that.” Agnes held out her phone and I bent to peer at the screen. There, a photo of an old book thrown open to a loose sketch of two women standing at the kitchen table, and my eyes caught on a name.

“Seònaid.” Warmth bloomed as I saw my grandmother’s name.Of course.She’d tended her gardens as fiercely as I did, and I came by my green thumb through her. It had skipped a generation, my mother wanting nothing to do with plants, whereas I’d been drawn to them since the moment I was born. My mother always said I was a fussy baby until she’d learned that I calmed when she placed plants on my nightstand. A tip from my grandmother, I’m told.

“Aye, your grandmother,” Agnes said, meeting my eyes with a small smile on her face.

“I miss her,” I admitted.

“She’shere. In these gardens she built, and with what you continue to grow. Seeds fall to the earth, and blossom once more, generation upon generation. You’re never too far apart.” Agnes squeezed my shoulder.

“So, Gran was magick? I wonder if she left anything for me in the house. I still have boxes to sort through,” I said, a note of guilt tingeing my voice. If I ever got through the clutter in my daily life, that is.

“We’ll take a look at some point. The first step, and what is somewhat time sensitive, is you doing the ritual,” Agnes said.

The women fell silent, while they waited for me to make a decision. The drumming of the rain against the greenhouse intensified, as though risingto a crescendo, before I finally spoke, rushing the words out in one single breath.

“What if I already have magick?”

“Badass,” Sophie said, giving me an admiring look at the same time Agnes’s mouth dropped open.

“You do? And you haven’t told me?”

“Um, I guess? I don’t know. Things have been happening that I can’t explain, and I felt odd bringing it up because how are you supposed to tell people that you think you have magick? Or that weird things are happening to you? It’s just…I didn’t know what to do or say and I’ve been so busy that I kept shoving it aside, and then it kept happening, and well, now, you’re here. Right, so, yes. That. Magick.”

“Show me,” Agnes said, moving forward until she stood shoulder to shoulder with me. “You have to know that I’ll always support you, Shona. Just like I told you that it’s time to clean your cottage and that one day I’m going to show up and just do it myself, I’d tell you whether you’re doing something wrong or not. If magick has been happening for you, it’s not wrong or bad. It’s part of your bloodline. You never have to hide these things from me.”

Friends could be family too, couldn’t they? Turning, I gave Agnes a quick hug, needing her to steady me before I turned back to the table.

“Right. I’m not certain I’ll be able to replicate what’s been happening, but let’s give it a go, shall we?” I took a small pot from the tray with a seedling that had just poked above the dirt, its half-discarded shell still clinging to its tender green shoot. Sophie stepped forward so that she andAgnes stood on either side of me as I brought the small pot to my face.

“Hey, pretty baby,” I crooned to the plant, reaching deep inside of me for all of my love and light that I held for plants, and poured it into my words. “You’re safe here, beautiful. If you’re feeling up to it, I’d love for you to grow for my friends. It’s your choice, of course, and I support your decision.”

I wasn’t one to badger my plants into submission. I’d talked to my plants for as long as I could remember, and I’d always innately understood that they craved love, nurturing, and acceptance from me.

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