Page 65 of Wild Scottish Rose

“And here I thought we were finally getting along.”

Touched, I bent to Gnorman. True, the gnome was a pain in my arse more often than not, but he’d grown on me.

“It was a joke, wee one.”

“There you are with the size thing again.”

“I never once have said something about your size.” I rolled my eyes, straightening. “God knows you can never bring up size around men in any capacity. They lose their damn minds.”

“Och, lass, if you’re now insulting my?—”

“I’m not!” I raised my hand to stop him, desperately trying to push away any of that imagery. “Come with me to the orchard today, please.”

“The orchard?” Gnorman stopped in mid-sentence, his hand raised with a finger in the air. “Which orchard?”

“Derek’s orchard. It’s, mmm, like twenty minutes west of here? You’ll have to come in the van with me.”

“A trip? A proper trip?” Excitement gleamed in Gnorman’s eyes, and I realized he probably didn’t get to leave the property all that much.

“Aye. His trees aren’t producing, and his family will fall on tough times this winter. I’m wondering if you’d be ableto help me understand what is going on. Maybe I can do something.”

“An entire orchard not producing?” Gnorman squinted, looking off in the distance as he thought. His little red hat bobbed as he stroked his beard. “That’s unusual. Do you know why?”

“That’s what I want to find out today. I was hoping to maybe bring the oil I asked you to infuse, if it’s ready of course. Maybe there’s some sort of energy block? Derek’s a good gardener, I can’t imagine he’s ignored any of the warning signs of rot, or soil changes, that kind of thing.”

“How long has he been with his orchard?”

I paused, amused at the way Gnorman phrased it. Like Derek and the orchard were in a relationship. I suppose they were, as I thought about my own gardens, and how being among the plants and caring for them was so interlinked with who I was as a person. I cast my mind back to how long Derek had been coming to the markets for.

“I’d say at least five years, since I’ve been back in Loren Brae.”

“Hmm. We’ll get to the bottom of this. The oil is ready.”

True to his word, I found small bottles of oil next to the pot of thyme, which had expanded in size again overnight. I’d need to move it to a bigger spot or?—

Reaching out, I traced my finger down a stem of the thyme plant.

“It’s okay to slow down now. You don’t have to grow so fast anymore. It’s time for a rest.”

The plant seemed to shudder under my touch, as though letting out a huge sigh of relief, and then relaxed.Well, that was interesting. Filing that experience away to examine more closely later, I picked up the bottles of oil, noting the twine and the little red seal with the gnome hat on it. Despite the gruff exterior, Gnorman had a flair for presentation.

“How do I transport you?” I looked down at him, unsure what the correct protocol was for taking your gnome with you.

“In that bag of yours.” Gnorman nodded to my tote bag and pulled the side down so he could clamber in. Giving him the bottles of oil, I picked up the bag, and peered down at him.

“All good?”

“Nae bother, lass. This will be fun.”

Leaving Eugene cozied up with his tomato, I left the lights on for two of my assistants who would be in today to continue winterizing my garden. I’d already texted them I’d be out for the morning. They’d met Eugene, and they knew what tasks needed to be done. That was one thing I liked about gardening, in general, was that I didn’t need to micromanage others all that much. Once I showed someone how to do things, it usually didn’t take them all that long to learn. Oftentimes, I’d have days in the garden, with my assistants where we barely spoke, each of us listening to our own music or podcasts on headphones, or if we were in the greenhouse, an agreed-upon show to listen to. It worked for us, and it was a way for me to be social without having to talk much.

The drive to the orchard was uneventful, other than Gnorman sitting with his hands plastered to the window, his mouth hanging open in awe as we drove. Hecommented on literally everything, keeping up a constant stream of chatter, so that by the time we arrived I was both irked and charmed with his excitement.

“Can you really not travel far from your own lands then?” I asked him as I hitched the tote bag on my shoulder.

“We can, but it’s not easy, lass. Without transportation, there’s only so much distance we can cover.”

That made sense, and less I risk getting yelled at for commenting on his size, I didn’t want to say anything about his wee legs and trying to cover ground.

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