Page 22 of Gardening and Gargoyles

“Aye, but someone mightwantto help you.”

Lady June laughs, but it isn’t a happy sound, despite the fact that she is dressed for a festival in something that is little more than a bikini—a bright yellow top that leaves half her breasts and stomach bared, and tiny blue pants she calls “booty shorts” that would draw any eye to the amount of voluptuous goodness she carries behind her. “No one wants to help me but my parents, and they can’t. I still have two sisters finishing high school and college, one that’s got a three-year-old, and one that’s super pregnant.”

“Super pregnant?”

“She’s in North Carolina, and my parents are going to fly down there when the baby comes to help out. My parents still work two jobs. My sisters are busy as f... They’re very busy. I don’t need help. I’m the middle child in a big Italian-Irish-Spanish family in South Philly. People have each other’s backs inan emergency, but on the daily? Not worth bothering people who are all in the same boat as you. I just do my thing. Carry on.”

She doesn’t say it, but I can tell by the way her mouth breaks at the corners that she’s in pain again. I didn’t mean to cause her distress, but I have. “I’m sorry I made you think of him,” I say, holding out my hand in apology. I’m not sure what I expect her to do with it, but it just feels right to reach out to her.

“Damn. You notice everything, huh? Yeah, he was the guy I let help me. Catch me when I was falling, carry me when things were tight. Oh, well, lesson learned. You can’t trust men.”

“That’s not true. I’m sure there are many good and true men.”

“I’m sure you’re right. My dad. My brothers-in-law, I hope to God. If not, they’re going to meet the sharp end of a meat skewer, that’s for sure.”

“Gargoyles are loyal. We offer our hearts but once. If our mate accepts it, the bond will never break.”

“That’s sweet. Lucky you. Lucky gargoyle babes. I’m going in the house. I’m starved.”

I follow Lady June, eyes fastened to her hips, even though I try not to stare. “I see it is not only gargoyle females. Did you not observe that Wuillie’s son is married to a human? And Genesis is, and his cousin, too?”

“Mm. That’s nice. I’m glad some humans are lucking out.”

She doesn’t understand my meaning—but then again, I’m not even sure I understand my meaning. What am I saying?

She is freshly grieved.

I am not sure where I want to stay, but I am certain I’m not supposed to be feeling any soft feelings towards her.

“Do you know when you’ll head home to Scotland?” Lady June asks, putting a covered bowl on the counter. She scrubs her hands and starts slapping little discs of dough onto the counter,using her palm and rolling pin to make them flat, working with speed that leaves me dizzy.

“Is this the tortilla?”

“It is. I don’t have a tortilla press or apalote, but this works. Also, when you get out in the world more, you’re going to find out that there are a lot of different shades to Mexican food. There’s Tex-Mex, Mexican-American, traditional Mexican, and then there are the regions. And tortilla means something different in Spain. I just make things the way my parents and grandparents made them. If you travel through America a little before you leave, you’ll find that there’s great food from all different cultures, and each region has its specialties. Philadelphia, where I’m from? That’s where you get real cheesesteaks and soft pretzels. Hoagies.” She suddenly shakes her rump at me, and I find my throat snaps shut. No words will escape. “We eat good in my neighborhood, which is why I’ll never be ‘skinny.’ That’s okay. They say girls with big asses are smarter. No, legit, there’s a scientific study about the kind of fat that’s stored in your butt being better than if you have fat in other places.”

I’m at a slight loss trying to understand everything, so I fall back on simple truth. “You are very beautiful.”

June stops slapping the dough like it has offended her clan, and turns to me, wide-eyed. “What?”

“You are very beautiful.” I clear my throat and cough. “Your rump is a lovely size and shape.” I tuck my hands behind my back so that I cannot mimic holding it.

It’s too large for a human male’s hands.

It’d be just right for mine.

“Oh. Okay, another thing. You can’t go around calling girls very beautiful. They’ll fall head over heels in love, okay? Because most guys don’t say that—and if they do, they want something. Mostly sex. Sorry if that shocks your Victorian sensibilities.”

“I did not want that! Or mean that! You are grieving your lost love, and you were to be wed to a laird—or at least a wealthy, powerful man. You will take years to mourn him, I am sure.” I bow suddenly, heart seized with the desire to do something, anything for her, to prove that I understand—that one day, perhaps, I might be worthy of her. “He should be removed, my lady. Taking the castle and a chunk of his wealth is not enough. He has betrayed you, and that I cannot tolerate. Let me hunt him for you, Lady June.”

“Duncan!” Lady June’s eyes are wide with shock—but not disapproval.

“Do not misunderstand. My kind do not murder, but we do defend, and we do not tolerate dishonor. He has dishonored you, and that I cannae abide.” My talons flex, and my tail lashes. My wings, one strong, one weak but slowly healing, flare out in rage.

Lady June stares at me for a second, mouth open, before she speaks. “But you barely know me. And you understand now that he wasn’t the laird. I’m not a lady, not like you think.”

“But you aremine.This is my protectorate for now, and that means you are mine to protect. Even if gargoyles didn’t have the need to protect running in their blood, I would feel the same. You were here to guide and protect me in a new land. You helped me find allies and my clan. You have nourished me and given me a sanctuary to heal—”

“That’s just being a good person, Duncan!”