Page 81 of Wild Scottish Rose

“Obviously.” Gnora rolled her eyes. “Like I give free shows.”

My eyebrows rose. That was one way to look at it, I suppose.

“Plus, he needs to loosen up and actually kiss me.”

“Maybe you should kiss him first.”

“Mmm, and ruin all this fun? It’s nice when a man chases you, you know? It all changes once you couple up.”

Would that be the case with Owen? He still brought me flowers, and books, and basically anything he saw that made him think of me. I hadn’t yet convinced him that I didn’t need him to bring me a bevy of gifts every day, and it was hard to say no when he took such joy in presenting me with presents. It just made me feel a bit like the scales were uneven. He never seemed to expect anything back, however, and truly just seemed to take joy in giving.

“Does it? I wouldn’t really know.”

“Trust me on this one, dear. You need to keep them on their toes.”

“Well, you’ve got G on his toes. So much so he ran from you.”

Gnora’s grin widened. “I like it when they run. Makes them more fun to catch.”

“Och, that’s a sadistic heart you’ve got there, Gnora.”

“Just a wee bit. The suffering makes it sweeter, doesn’t it?”

I smirked, it was hard not to admire the wee gnome, as she owned her prowess through and through.

“This ritual says I need to go sky-clad, know anything about it?” I nodded to the notebook my gran had left behind. Gnora walked over and studied the words.

“Well, it’s Mabon. So, yes, if you’re looking to celebrate second harvest and honor the seasons, then fewer barriers between you and the goddesses is considered a good thing.”

The goddesses? Oof, I had a lot to learn.

“Gnorman seems to think it’s important I do this ritual. Will it matter that I’m new to this? That I don’t really know what I’m doing?”

“Nature is surprisingly forgiving, Shona. Intent is what matters here, not perfection. You’ll do just fine.”

“But it doesn’t even give me a chant or whatever I’m supposed to do,” I griped, pointing at the book. “It says to write your own.”

“Och, it’syourpractice. You’re the witch. Write your own ritual. You are just giving thanks for harvest and acknowledging the change of season. Rituals matter.”

“Why?”

I didn’t mean to be rude, but I was genuinely curious.

Gnora sighed, leaning against the ornamental box and crossing her arms over her very ample chest. “It’s easy, isn’t it, to settle into the mundane? Time passes, lives are busy, and your mind gets crowded with too many distractions. Ritual pulls you out of that. Honoring the change of season is a simple thing, but it gives you a moment to pause, to ground yourself, and to give thanks for Mother Earth. Without ritual, it’s just another day. And what’s the point of it all, if you don’t take time to stop and celebrate this life you’re living?”

It was an excellent explanation and one that gave me pause. More often than not I’d let a birthday go by without too much pomp and circumstance or some other holidaywith barely a nod to the day. But Gnora was right, these moments were meant to be celebrated.

“Will you keep Gnorman away? I’m not sure I can go through with being sky-clad if I know the wee man is around making fun of me.”

“Oh, I’ll gladly distract the lad,” Gnora purred and sauntered away.

Gathering my candles, my baskets of seeds, herbs, salt, and a mini cauldron, I left the greenhouse, nerves kicking low in my stomach. I mean, I was in my own backyard, wasn’t I? Being naked in the dark should hardly be an issue.

Pushing my nerves aside, and reminding myself about what Gnora had said, I rounded the side of the greenhouse, so I was blocked from the view of the street. There, I knelt and put everything on the ground, and then looked wildly around. The moon rose, her light softly blanketing the hills that rose over the loch and illuminated a few puffy clouds that floated by in the night sky.

Was it weird that I was about to get naked and sprinkle salt all over my yard?

Likely so.

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