Page 32 of Wild Scottish Rose

Thyme for Grief

It’s said time heals all wounds, though grief lingers the longest. Grow, dry, and bundle. Burn on the night of a new moon to ease grief’s clenches.

I unfurledanother roll of paper, intrigued.

Lavender for Love

It’s said that a calm mind and spirit is a safe haven for love. Grow, dry, and bundle. Burn on the night of a full moon to clear old energies to welcome in new.

“Shona?”

I snapped the box closed as my assistant, Louise, popped her head in the closet. “Ah, there you are.”

“Good morning,” I said, turning to greet her even though all I wanted to do was keep reading through the magickal box of seeds. I had so many questions—like would they grow faster than regular seeds? Where had they come from? Had my gran put a spell on them? I knew, for a fact, that we had lavender growing in the garden and that the seeds were in a jar on the shelf. There had to be something that set these apart.

“Oh, who is the wee guy?” Louise, a perky teenager who was saving up money for uni, asked. Praying that Gnorman kept his resting gnome face on, I turned but realized she was crouching to look under the table at where Eugene slept with a soft rumbling sound of contentment.

“This is Eugene. We’re friends now.”

“Brilliant. I love hedgies.” Louise beamed at him, but made no move to disturb him, understanding that hedgehogsweren’t daytime animals. “Shall we crack on? Looks like loads to be harvested today.”

“Aye. The squash alone is already ready. We’ll be some of the first at the market.”

“The butternut?” Louise asked, reaching for a pair of gardening gloves on the shelf.

“And the delicata. I need to put some aside for myself.” I loved nothing more than slicing up a delicata squash into little C shapes, brushing them with olive oil and salt, and baking them with the rind on. They came out crisp and were a delicious snack that I munched on through most of the autumn.

“Don’t worry, I’ll sort you out.” Louise grabbed a stack of the empty baskets.

“I’ll be out shortly.”

“Nae bother. I’m a bit early as it is. It was such a nice morning that it was hard to stay home.”

Louise, in perverse nature, didn’t like to sleep in like other teenagers her age. She hummed a light tune and hoisting the baskets at her hip, wandered out to the gardens. Once she was out of sight, I went into the greenhouse and grabbed a small herb pot, filling it with my special blend of soil. Returning to the closet, I carefully opened the envelope with the grief seeds, and gingerly dabbed a singular seed into the pot. Patting it down into the dirt, I watered it gently and then just stared at the soil for a moment, wondering if there was something else that I should do. It wasn’t like there had been any ritual attached to the seeds.

Closing my eyes, I gripped the pot in both hands, and took a few deep breaths, seeing if I could center myself. Once I did, that flow of energy I’d feltyesterday hummed through me, and I pulled at it with my mind, seeing if I could redirect my thoughts down through my hands into the seed.

“Grow, wee one. Your time has come to shine.” The palms of my hands warmed, and the pot trembled softly, and when I blinked my eyes open, I was rewarded with … nothing. Just dirt. Laughing at myself, I shook my head and brought the pot into the greenhouse with the other seedlings, tying a small red ribbon around it to separate it from the others, and then donned my gloves.

My garden was not going to harvest itself.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Owen

It had taken me most of the day and a solid hour of driving, but I’d managed to wrangle up a beautiful fall bouquet of roses. And as it turns out, the trip had been fruitful for more than one reason. The clerk at the flower shop had been particularly chatty, and when I’d inquired about any interesting stories coming out of Loren Brae, I’d been treated to a slew of local gossip.

Did I need to know that Sophie and Lachlan, the apparent owners of the castle, had been caught half-clothed in a field?

I did not.

But did I need to know that there was a dark rumor that clung to the little town, pushing tourists away, that might hold more truth than fiction?

I absolutely did.

Kelpies, I was told, are mythological water beasts that haunt the loch and terrorize anyone who draws too close to the banks of Loch Mirren. Though I was withholding judgment on whether I believed that Kelpies were actually real, the story tracked with what Ryan had related to me. Which meant, real or not, therewassomething in the waters of Loch Mirren that was scaring tourists away.

I just had to find out what it was.

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