Page 31 of Wild Scottish Rose

Eugene skidded to a stop, and glanced to me, his eyes lit with excitement.

“Do you like tomatoes? Sure, go on then, have at it, lad.” It wasn’t like I was lacking in that department. Eugene needed no further prodding and launched himself face first into the bowl of tomatoes. Upending his wee body, he got his head stuck, and his back legs flailed in the air. His spikes rose, which I assumed meant he was uncomfortable, and I quickly placed my hand under where his limbs scrambledfor purchase. Once he was steady, he inched backward, a perfectly plump tomato clutched in his wee paws.

“Is that the one? Perfect. Let’s bring it with us.” Taking the bowl of water, a few dishtowels, and Eugene, I opened the door to the large walk-in pantry closet and flipped on the light. It wasn’t as bright in here, and I looked around for a shadowy spot for Eugene to eat his snack in peace.

Unlike my house, the closet was fairly organized, mainly because I didn’t spend enough time in here to mess things up. Rustic wood shelving lined the stone walls, empty baskets were stacked on a narrow table, and a tool bench held various gardening needs. Spying the shadowy corners under the table, I crouched and made a small bed with the towels, put the water bowl next to it, and then gently deposited Eugene. His little paws still clutched the tomato, and I appreciated that he hadn’t eaten his snack while next to my shirt.

“Does that suit you, wee man?” I asked. Eugene made a small chittering noise, a sound caught between a snort and a grunt. He raced to the dark corner, surprisingly fast for what I’d seen from him, and tucked into his meal.

“Okay, that’s sorted then.” Standing, I brushed my palms against my jeans, fetched my coffee, and took a few gulps of the life-affirming liquid while I studied the contents of the shelves. Airtight, glass jars held row upon row of seeds, and there were several worn wooden boxes stacked behind the jars. It all looked fairly normal to me, though I never gave this area much thought other than to come in for seeds or a tool on occasion.

A flash of red caught my eye, and I angled my headto see Gnorman sitting on top of a box, his legs dangling, and his arms crossed over his chest.

“How did you get up there?”

“You know, you’re being very size-ist,” Gnorman said, and I squinted at him.

“Size-ist? Is that a thing?”

“Of course it is. Just because I’m short doesn’t mean I’m not capable of the same things you are. In fact, more, because I stepped into my magick long before you did. You’re just a wee bairn when it comes to magick. A fledgling, with fluff still under your wings. A bear cub barely able to?—”

“I get it.” I held up my hand to stop his flow of words. “Yeah, yeah, lucky you. You know your magick. Cut me some slack. As a familiar, aren’t you supposed to help me? Or does your job just include hurling insults all day long?”

“I can do both.” Gnorman winked at me and patted the top of the box. “I believe this is what you’re looking for.”

“Is it? That’s easy enough.” I reached for the box, fully intending to grab it from the shelf while Gnorman was still sitting on it, giving him a wild ride, but he scrambled off with a huff of disgust.

“You’re becoming a real scunner, hen.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, absentmindedly, as I brushed the dust from the lid of the box and carried it over to the table. A snorting grunt sounded, and I peeked beneath the table to see Eugene grinning up at me, looking like a serial killer with blood red tomato dripping from his face. He sighed, contented, and spun himself into a ball and burrowed into the towels, having made a little nest for himself.

The box itself was made of walnut, polished and worn, with an intricate design scrawled across the top. Vines of leaves curled around the corners, and gnomes peeked from behind raucous blooms. It was stunning, and the longer I looked at it the more details I discovered. Like the small hedgie poking his nose out behind a strawberry. Frankly, I was surprised I’d missed something of this caliber sitting right in front of me.

“Has this been here all along?” I asked Gnorman, who was currently shimmying down the arm of the shelf like a fireman sliding down a pole. I could have helped him, but that would be me being size-ist, wouldn’t it? The gnome landed with a huff on the table, toppling over, before righting himself and brushing the dust from his leather vest. “Nice landing. I’d give it a six.”

“Better than you almost flying face-first into the fire last night.”

My cheeks pinkened. I’d forgotten the stupid gnome was there, which meant he’d also seen…

“How long were you in the bushes?” I asked, bending close until I was almost nose to nose with Gnorman.

“Och, lass, if you’re fussed about me watching you try to swallow the man’s face like he was a chocolate sweetie, I left once I saw the way of things.”

“I was most certainly not trying to swallow—” I held up a finger in Gnorman’s wee face. “Enough out of you. That was not what was happening.”

I mean, it was a toss-up who had been devouring whom, if I was to be honest about it, and now my thoughts landed squarely back in the Owen camp, nerves twisting low in my stomach, as I wondered how to act around himtoday.Everything well at the cottage? Is there anything you need?

No, I definitely couldn’t let something happen between us again. Agnes had been very clear about keeping Owen in the dark about the Kelpies, and since I was a terrible liar, it was best that I steered clear of the man altogether. I had bigger things to focus on anyway, like trying to figure out what sort of challenges I needed to pass to be a full member of the Order of Caledonia.

Notdaydreaming about a sexy American producer who kissed like he had the power to unlock every secret desire I had hidden away.

Shaking my head, as though I could somehow physically remove the thought of the toe-curling kiss from my mind, I unhooked the small wrought-iron latch that held the lid tightly closed. Easing it open, I blinked at the contents, my heart pounding in my chest.

Seeds.

Well, packets of seeds that is.

The packets were the most elaborate I’d ever seen, rendered in a beautiful deep purple canvas-like paper, with green velvet ribbons wound around each, and a red wax seal stamped to keep the flap closed. A small scroll of parchment paper was affixed to each, and I gingerly unrolled one, nerves kicking up.

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