Page 44 of Wild Scottish Rose

“I’d like to buy this one for my friend here,” I said, passing the scarf to Edith.

“Owen, you don’t have to buy me?—”

“And the matching hat, please,” I said, spying a blue hat with a colorful pink bon-bon on top.

“I don’t need a?—”

“And whatever else goes with this until my friend here learns to say thank you instead of shooting daggers at me with those lovely blue eyes of hers.”

Edith’s eyes turned calculating as she looked over her booth.

“Well, you’ll want to get her mittens, of course. And perhaps something for you to match? It would be such a shame if you got cold. The hat you’re wearing is fine enough, but the yarn is a bit threadbare,” Edith said, narrowing her eyes at the knit cap I wore.

“I absolutely agree. Why don’t you pick something out for us?”

“Owen, I don’t need?—”

“Doesn’t this color just match her eyes perfectly?” I asked Edith, holding the scarf to Shona’s face.

“It’s perfect for you, dear. Like it was meant for you all along,” Edith assured her. Then she handed me a dark navy knit cap, with edging in the same brighter blue color as the scarf. “Here, try this one. It will compliment Shona’s but is a touch more masculine.”

“I don’t mind the pink,” I promised Edith, pulling on the bright blue cap with the pink pom-pom instead of the one she handed me. Edith chuckled and clapped her hands together.

“You know what? It does suit you. Mind if I take your picture for Instagram?” Edith asked, pulling out a sleek iPhone.

“You have an Instagram account?” Shona asked.

“Of course. It’s called: Get Knitty with me.”

“Love it.” I grinned for the shot and then promptly purchased the scarf, the hat, the gloves, and the navy hat as well. By the time I’d left, Edith was promising to make something for my mother, and Shona’s grumbling had reduced to a minimum.

“Edith.” Shona paused by an empty stall. “Where’s Derek?”

Edith’s expression grew grim. “No apples. His orchard isn’t producing.”

“Seriously? That’s a shame.” Shona shook her head. “He has the best apples.”

“He’s distraught. It’ll be a tough winter for his family now.”

“And they don’t know what’s happened?”

“Not that I’ve heard, but I’ve been away.” More customers approached Edith’s stall, cutting off the conversation, and Shona fell quiet as we moved among the stalls until we returned to the baked goods table.

“You can take the hat off now,” Shona said, now that we were out of sight and standing in line.

“You don’t like it on me?” I asked, tilting my head and crossing my eyes at her. Finally, she laughed.

“No, it suits you. Everything suits you. I’m not sure you’d look bad in anything you wore.”

“Wait until you see me naked then.” I winked at Shona, and that delectable pink flush filled hercheeks.

“I am not going to see you naked,” Shona hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from a couple who was eavesdropping.

“You might, if you play your cards right. I don’t show it off for just anyone you know. I’m a gentleman after all.”

“Owen, I amnottrying to get you naked,” Shona insisted.

“If you’re not, I’m happy to.” A lovely woman, easily in her late seventies, beamed at me over the table of baked goods.

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