Page 31 of Must Love Lavender and Little Lies
“Well, no, but?—”
Juniper laughed. “You really do need a wife. Come on,” she said, gesturing for us to meet with Emmalyn.
The mini-minis, drawn by the sound of the pony cart, also joined us, the herd of cows mooing excitedly at Emmalyn and the pony. Green bubbles surrounded them.
“Feel free to thank me now. I have a barrel of larkflower shandy,” Emmalyn said proudly as she stepped down from the cart, pausing to pet the cows. “I need my own herd of these.”
“You are heartily thanked. As for the mini-minis, unfortunately, they love bloomberries.”
“Yeah, probably not the best livestock to keep at the vineyards, then,” Emmalyn replied with a laugh, then turned to her cart. “I have two barrels of ale, five cases of bloomberry wine, and more, um, bread,” she said, gesturing to multiple sacks of loaves all with the distinctive wheat pattern on the top.
“From Flora’s Flours?” Juniper asked, arching an eyebrow.
Emmalyn smiled nervously. “Well,” she said, then shrugged, “Flora’s custard rolls. She only makes those for the Greening.”
Juniper let out a soft hum but said nothing more. I didn’t know the full extent of the story, but Emmalyn had been involved with Flora’s half-giant grandson, Fable. I didn’t know Fable well, but I did know he’d moved away from Moonshine Hollow, breaking off their relationship. As far as I saw, Emmalyn had never dated anyone again, and anytime Flora’s Flours came up, Juniper was quick to change the subject to spare Emmalyn’s feelings. The fact that she’d stopped there, custard rolls or not, was curious.
“Let me handle those,” I said, going to the back of the cart for the barrels. “And thank you, Emmalyn.”
“It was all Juniper,” Emmalyn said. “She has us all busy getting ready for your family,” she said, then grinned a little wicked smile, adding, “Maybe you should marry her.”
“Don’t tease,” Juniper said lightly as she grabbed a bag of bread from the back of the cart. When she turned, I spotted an odd expression on her face. When she realized I was looking, she quickly hid it.
“Need help?” I asked her.
“No. Thank you,” she replied. “Emmalyn can get the rest of the bread. I don’t suppose you brought the rest of us any custard rolls, Em.”
“I think there might be a few left. A very few.”
At that, Juniper laughed, the lightness returning to her tone once more. “We’ll take these inside and see how preparations are coming,” Juniper told me, then she and Emmalyn disappeared within.
I took the barrel to the outdoor pavilion. There, I had an enchanted cabinet to keep ale cold, as well as a large stone fireplace with a pit large enough to roast any beast. In fact, as I stood there, I realized I should probably message the butcher to deliver something. Stew would be enough to feed the family when they arrived, but afterward, they would be expecting a party. And my family ate a lot. I’d need to head to town to order more supplies.
After I unloaded all the drinks and stocked up the pavilion, I headed back to the house.
When I reached the porch, I could hear Juniper and the others inside laughing and teasing one another. The scents of bread, herbs, and something savory drifted from the house. The comforting smells and sounds put me at ease at once. Maybe Primrose had been using her comfort magic.
But the feeling was more than just magic.
Juniper’s laugh was joyful and airy. Through the screen door, I saw her inside with her friends. She was standing at the counter cutting carrots, a glass of wine at her side, giggling at some piece of gossip Winifred had shared.
This… This felt like…home.
“Granik,” Rosalyn called, spotting me. “Come inside. We opened a bottle of wine. Come and join us.”
Smiling, I joined them, and for a little while, let myself just live inside the feeling.
CHAPTER 11
JUNIPER
Istood in Granik’s powder room, having cleaned up and changed after the labor of the morning. The house was homey, Primrose’s magic melding nicely with the rest of our work, and ready for Granik’s family. I’d donned a clean dress, a pretty white thing with yellow flowers, puffy capped sleeves, and pearlescent buttons. The gown was one of Zarina’s sister’s designs. The print on the fabric moved ever so slightly, the blossoms opening and closing. I adjusted my headband and gave myself an assessing look.
I looked tidy and proper, hopefully good enough for orcish in-laws.
Everything was ready.
Now, I just had to steel my heart.
