Page 32 of Must Love Lavender and Little Lies
“Um, Juniper?” Granik called from downstairs. “A wagon is coming down the lane. No, make that two wagons.”
I inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, settling myself, and then made my way downstairs.
Granik gave me a nervous smile then said, “You look very pretty.”
“Thank you.”
“Ready?”
“As I’m going to get.”
We made our way to the porch.
The moment they saw us, I heard a loud cheer from the wagons and several members of the assembly jumped out and rushed toward us, the drivers hurrying the sturdy orcland horses along.
Granik took my hand, and we descended the stairs.
A moment later, a gaggle of orcish children rushed us.
“Ah, there they are, the terror squad!” Granik said and then knelt to greet them, all of the children hugging him at once.
“Uncle Granik, Uncle Granik, Uncle Granik!” they cheered loudly.
“Boulders and barrels, there she is!” a female voice called. Granik’s mother lowered herself from her wagon and came rushing toward me, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, just look at you! Look at you! A picture of beauty. Like a buttercup in a field,” she said, then pulled me into an embrace.
I gasped lightly, given that the woman was twice my size, but wrapped my arms around her. “It is good to see you again. Missus Thorngrip,” I squeaked out.
“Ma, you’re crushing her,” Granik warned.
“Hush, you. I’m busy talking to Juniper,” she said, but she also eased her grip as well. “Oh, my pretty girl. We knew! We all knew there was a spark between you two. We figured Granik was far too dense to ever figure it out.”
“Ma!”
“Hush. And now look at you,” she said, taking my hand. “What a beautiful ring. Greb, come look at Juniper’s ring,” she called to her husband, who was crossing the yard to join us.
Mister Thorngrip joined us then, Granik’s mother showing him my hand.
“See,” Missus Thorngrip said.
“It’s very fine work. Looks elvish.”
“It is,” I said with a smile. “It’s very nice to see you again, Mister Thorngrip.”
“Please, call me Greb,” he said with a smile.
“And call me Annya,” Granik’s mother added.
“Granik,” a crackling voice called.
Granik released his nieces and nephews and looked back to see his eldest brother, Gruffton, helping an elderly woman from the wagon.
“Oh, you must meet my mother,” Annya said, taking my hand and pulling me along.
I quickened my pace to keep up with her.
Granik embraced the woman I presumed to be his grandmother. She hugged him nicely, then patted his cheek.
“Well, boy, it took you long enough,” she told him, then turned to me. “So, this is the herbalist I’ve heard so much about. Pretty. Pretty.”
