Highland Dew

by Barrett Magill

  “We’d better head back. We both need rest.” Fiona tugged Bryce to her feet.

  “Good thing tomorrow is Saturday.” Bryce put an arm around Fiona’s shoulders.

  Fiona pulled closer. “It might be safer for you to stay and sleep here.”

  Bryce kissed her forehead. “That’s the good news, I live five minutes away. No long hauls on mystery roads. But…you could come with me.”

  “You’re a wretched tease. I just can’t leave Dad alone or have him asking where I was.” Fiona felt an ache that had been long forgotten. “We have a lot to figure out, but it helps that we at least know this crazy attraction is real.”

  Bryce stopped and pulled her into an embrace and passionate kiss that took her breath away. “My feelings are genuine and heartfelt. I love you, Fiona, and I will find a way to make this work. I promise.”

  Fiona held tight to the magical moment. She was almost afraid to hold too tight for fear it might vanish. It helped to see Bryce’s earnest expression. Her eyes were dark and her cheeks flushed. Even her voice sounded surprisingly hoarse. It surprised her.

  So much of their relationship had been focused and businesslike. The softer side of Bryce Andrews held a different kind of passion and power. Fiona felt captured in a force field. A lovely one, to be sure. She smiled.

  “I’m so very glad you came into my life.” She caressed the side of Bryce’s face and hair. “Sometimes I just have to pinch myself.”

  “I’d be happy to help you with that.” Her hands slid across Fiona’s hips as she nuzzled behind her ear.

  Fiona gasped as she felt her knees weaken. Another kiss revived her. “We really should head back or I won’t be able to.”

  Bryce smiled lasciviously and nodded toward the bench.

  Fiona shoved her shoulder. “Come on, you evil temptress.”

  ****

  Bryce opened all the windows in the car. The rain had left the air thick with moisture and although the temperature was cool, she mopped perspiration from her head and neck. Clearly the damn hormones were again asserting power over her. That started before she left California, but it had been irregular and mild. Her older sister had the same problem years ago.

  Once home, she tossed her keys on the counter and made a beeline to the shower. Happily, she wasn’t paying for water.

  Thoroughly chilled, she donned a clean T-shirt and gulped a bottle of cold water. Once she’s adjusted the ceiling fan, she stretched out on top of the bed and wondered if Fiona had needed a shower. She nodded off, smiling.

  Chapter Forty-five

  Fiona refilled her dad’s coffee cup and glanced at her watch. “I have to run a couple of errands. Will you be okay here for a bit?”

  “Och, ya worry too much. If it’ll give you peace, I’ll sit and read the papers until the lads get here.”

  She kissed his cheek. “I’ll have my phone if you need me.”

  He chuckled and waved her goodbye.

  At the bottom of the driveway, rather than turn right toward town, she turned left and accelerated. Her fingers were tight on the steering wheel. “Just take a breath. There is nothing to be nervous about. Bryce may be surprised, but she’ll be fine.” She had no sooner relaxed her grip when the small sign for the cottage appeared. Edging the car carefully down the driveway past the landlord’s house, Fiona looked for any sign of activity. The guest house looked quiet. Maybe Bryce was still sleeping.

  She parked the car near the steps and approached the front door quietly. After listening, she tapped on the door. When Bryce open the door, Fiona let out a breath she was holding. “Good morning, I hope it’s not too early—”

  “What a lovely surprise; please come in.”

  Fiona closed the door behind her and leaned against it. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I just kept thinking about our conversation and how frustrated I was.”

  “I felt the same way. I even took a walk before I went to bed and it didn’t help.”

  The air was heavy and the silence was oppressive. Fiona couldn’t speak. Bryce stood before her in a well-worn T-shirt and boxer shorts. Her hair was rumpled with sleep, but her eyes were dark and her dry lips parted. Fiona stepped forward and slid both hands around her waist. She took a deep breath and slipped the T-shirt over Bryce’s head. When it fell to the floor, she carefully touched the warm skin on a surprisingly muscular shoulder. Weeks of watching Bryce work side-by-side with Brian and Gary should have prepared her, but it didn’t. “Could you…er…slip off the shorts. Please?”

  Bryce’s face reddened. With a loud gulp she obliged. “Fiona, I’m feeling a little embarrassed—”

  “And turn around.” Fiona could not believe what she was asking…or seeing. “Oh, mercy.” Her body was perfect. Strong, toned, tan, and exquisite. “Were you a swimmer?”

  Bryce spun back. “What?”

  “A swimmer. Did you swim? You have that physique.”

  “Soccer.”

  Bryce put both hands up and pulled Fiona so close she could feel her warm breath. “Is it time for the kissing, or do you have another strange Celtic ritual?”

  Fiona just shook her head.

  “Then if you don’t mind, I’m a little overstimulated right now.”

  Her kiss was soft, but quickly became hungrier. “I am, too.” Kissing and tugging at her clothes made Bryce stop and laugh.

  “Easy, tiger. I think we have time to do this right.”

  Fiona pulled back and kicked off her shoes. “YOU may have time, but I’m about ready to explode!”

  Bryce pushed her toward the bedroom on the right. “Yes ma’am. Let’s do it!”

  ****

  Bryce followed her back to the house grinning like the Cheshire cat. Exhausted but temporarily sated. There was something to be said about being a little older: transcendent sex.

  Fiona straightened her top when she got out of the car, and glanced at Bryce. Her coy smile and red cheeks said it all.

  Chapter Forty-six

  The next few weeks were chaotic and swift. Fiona’s quick trip to Edinburgh resulted in cartons, bags, and a few pieces of furniture occupying a corner of the living room. She had no time to organize anything, and it made her feel crazy.

  It seemed like lorries from somewhere arrived nearly every day delivering or retrieving something related to whisky. For the most part, Brian and Gary seemed to have a handle on the traffic.

  The first run of the old still was successful and they quickly started another, since they had several orders for spirits.

  Tom Hobart had made room in his schedule to take more of the Highland Dew for bottling. Once word got out that it was once again available, inquiries poured in.

  Fiona was thrilled with the regular checks because she could start paying off some of Bryce’s loan as well as paying for the work being done on the place. Even old Murray got a small salary—as long as he remained sober and debt-free. His sobriety had greatly enhanced his crusty personality.

  Fiona laughed and unloaded the extra groceries. While it wasn’t always necessary, she did enjoy offering some sandwiches or beverages to the hard workers making her father’s dream come true.

  When she wasn’t checking on GDD’s new clients, Bryce had even asked to be involved in the process so she could learn each step. She helped unload the barley, set up the malting process, and played gopher whenever something was needed. She never complained, and by the end of the second week in the trenches had grudgingly earned a great deal of respect from the men.

  Truth be told, that physical labor had done quite a bit for her physique. Her office-worker appearance had disappeared. She now looked strong, relaxed, and tanned. Most of all, happy. Hard work agreed with her. And the relaxed happy Bryce made Fiona happy.

  Fiona put the last of the sliced meat away and went to wash her hands. Physical labor had never really held any appeal for her. Music and teaching were more her style.

  From her window view of the yard, she could see Bryce and young Robbie pushing a heavy
barrel toward the loading dock. A small thrill zinged through her. The growing intensity of their relationship seemed to parallel the intensity of the workload. She sighed and turned to her next chore.

  ****

  Bryce steered her car off the A9, onto the highway, and followed the signs to the Old Bridge Inn, where she had stopped on the start of her trip a few months earlier. She took the day to recoup and clear her head. Between her new chores in the distillery, checking in on Kurt and Dusty Hamilton, not to mention the distracting and tantalizing thoughts of Fiona, she needed a little perspective. Her solution: a road trip. It occurred to her that it might be a good plan to reintroduce a couple of her favorite barmen to the new release of Highland Dew.

  She parked near the door to the inn and retrieved the two bottles of the Dew in a gift box with a note for Jamie Meigle. Happily, he was behind the bar.

  “What can I do for you, miss?”

  “Well, Jamie, I’ve got something for you.” She set the box on the bar. “I wanted to report back to you about our search for a small, boutique whisky. Turns out it’s been around over a hundred years, but recently disappeared. We’re very proud to usher it back into circulation.”

  He opened the box and removed one of the bottles. After turning it and holding it up to the light, his expression changed to a big smile. “I think I remember this one! Verra popular.” He opened the bottle and poured a sample into a tasting glass.

  Bryce smiled at his joy. These old barmen knew their whisky.

  “Oh, this is grand. Is it available now?”

  “I left a card with the information. Currently, Speyburn is doing the bottling.”

  “Well, this is a verra fine gift. I appreciate it. Glad you stopped by again.”

  Bryce waved and headed out to her car. She drove south to Loch Alvie and followed the road to the small peninsula and the lovely Alvie Church.

  After she parked, she pulled a water bottle from the cooler and hiked down to the loch. The morning clouds had dissipated, and the sun warmed the ground and made the water shimmer like jewels. The majestic hills surrounding the area made all the features around her seem smaller and protected.

  Bryce sat near the water’s edge and removed her shoes. She relaxed her shoulders and inhaled as deeply as possible. The damp soil, the memorable lake smells, and the soft scent of pine trees filled the summer air.

  Scotland truly was magical. It’d been so busy in the past few weeks, she’d forgotten her resolve to appreciate the land and the people. She smiled. Well…I DO appreciate one of the people.

  Just the thought of Fiona made her blush. She’d have never believed her passion could be resurrected so easily. Working so closely the last few weeks just felt natural and easy—like they could read each others’ mind. It was hard with her dad…or any number of people that were around all the time. Fiona did sneak down to her cottage some early mornings. They talked about getting away for a few days, but there was never a good time. Hopefully, the guys would be able to take charge of the production soon. Gavin permitting.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Gavin had just finished his lunch and disappeared for a nap when Fiona heard a rap on the back door. “Come in.” Fiona hung up the dishtowel and Brian stuck his head in.

  “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “Nonsense, you’re a part of the family now. Would you like something to drink?”

  “Water would be great.” He pulled the chair out from the table and used his sleeve to wipe his face.

  She handed him the glass and took a seat. “How are things going?”

  “Actually, we’re a bit ahead of schedule. Gary and I thought Gavin might like to get started on a batch of the Highland Dew. We’ve got everything ready, we just need his recipe. I want to be sure where he gets his barley and malting.” He had trouble hiding his excitement.

  “That’s wonderful. I can ask him as soon as he wakes up, and I’ll let you know. That should make him and Murray very proud.”

  Brian finished the water and headed for the door. “Thanks again. Gary and I will be heading out in a bit, but you can call.”

  Fiona smiled. It was hard to believe it was finally going to happen. The family legacy was intact. She suddenly remembered her mum and how proud she was of their contributions. “Oh, Mum, I wish you were here to see this.” Tears filled her eyes and she reached up to the shelf near the door for her mum’s—and grandmother’s—cookbook. Sometimes, just seeing her mum’s handwriting made her feel the presence. The leather notebook was ancient and fragile. Pages of old recipes—some barely readable—dated back at least two or three generations. Scraps of envelopes, yellowed paper, and index cards marked favorites.

  “Hello? Anybody here?” Bryce came in carrying a large bundle of wildflowers.

  “Hi, you. What beautiful flowers.”

  “I got them especially for you,” Bryce said and kissed her cheek.

  Fiona crooked one eyebrow. “Should I be suspicious? Wait, these aren’t from your other girlfriend, Helen, are they?”

  Bryce laughed. “Caught me. I guess I have to confess. I stopped to see Billy at the Highlander and give him some of the Highland Dew. After all, he did introduce me to it. Then, of course, I had to drive through Archiestown to get here…and…well, Helen was in the square with way too many flowers to sell this late in the day, so…”

  They both cracked up and Fiona hugged Bryce. “You’re incorrigible.”

  Bryce held her at arms’ length. “What’s wrong? You’ve been crying.”

  “Nothing. I just got a little melancholy. Brian told me they’re ready for a run of the Highland Dew and he needed the recipe from Dad. Just made me wish Mum was here to see this. She’d be so proud.”

  Bryce hugged her. “I’ll bet she would. It’s very exciting. Did Gavin remember what was in it?”

  “Dunno. He’s still napping.”

  Bryce grinned. “You know, when that batch is done, we should plan a celebration.”

  Fiona perked up. “That would be fantastic! We haven’t done anything fun here in ages. We could get a tent…and music…”

  “Hold on, missy. We have a lot to do yet.”

  “But there’s no harm in jotting down a few ideas.” Fiona took the flowers to the sink and began arranging the unwieldy bouquet. “These really are quite lovely. How was your trip?”

  Bryce pulled out a chair and sat by the window. “You know, it was rejuvenating.”

  Fiona turned and simply shook her head.

  “Really. I went to Aviemore to see Jamie Meigle at the Old Bridge Inn, and afterward I drove to the Cairngorms National Park and sat awhile by Loch Alvie. I was all alone and it was beautiful. It reminded me why I love being in Scotland.” She stood and walked over to Fiona. “And I love working here with the guys. Making whisky is what I want to do…and I want to do it with you.”

  Fiona circled Bryce’s waist with her arms. “That makes me so happy.”

  The moment was broken by the sound of Gavin whistling.

  “Fi, what time will supper be?”

  Fiona pulled back and went to the kitchen door. “I thought six, but I can give you something to tide you over if you like. Come sit down. I have some news.”

  Bryce remained at the sink arranging the flowers in the vase. “Afternoon, Gavin.”

  He waved. “Bryce.”

  Fiona concealed a smile. “Brian came by while you were napping, and said they were ready to run the Highland Dew. All he needed was your notes and recipe. I told him I’d ask.”

  Gavin cleared his throat and gazed out the window with an odd look on his face. It almost looked like fear.

  “Dad? Are you all right?”

  “Aye. Here’s the thing, Fi. It was such a long time since we were putting out the barrels. Once the last shipment went out, things started coming undone. I wracked my brain trying to remember how we did those things and I can’t. I’ve begged Murray to see if he can. But, it’s all a blur.”

  “Gavin, a
re you saying you don’t know how you got the special effect that made your whisky unique?” Bryce looked incredulous. She pulled out a chair next to him.

  “I’ve really tried. I know it was on the original piece of paper along with the changes, but I don’t remember where we kept it.”

  Fiona felt her heart in her throat. She covered her mouth to keep from shouting. This wasn’t happening. Everything they’d recreated, all the work, the new agreement with Brian and Gary, the contract she’d signed. What were they going to do? She looked at Bryce, who had started pacing around the kitchen.

  “Okay.” Bryce took a deep breath. “There must be a solution. If the piece of paper is around, can you think where you might have needed it to reference. In the office, the malting floor, the office safe?”

  Gavin wiped his mouth and tried to speak. “I…I just don’t remember.”

  “Okay. Why don’t we walk over and take a look around? How would that be?” Bryce sounded marginally calm.

  ****

  All three marched across the yard as though walking to the gallows. Bryce knew her heart rate had doubled. In all her planning and troubleshooting, of all the “what-ifs” she’d planned for, she never dreamed they’d be unable to produce the magical whisky. Her career would be over. Patience. They could figure this out. “Fiona, why don’t you go get Murray to help. I’ll start the search with Gavin.”

  For the next two hours, the four of them went through every drawer, cupboard, shelf, crevice, ledger, and file. They found a number of production notes which might help a little. But not the one they needed.

  “Miss, do you remember you asked me what the arguing was about between me and your da?” Murray said meekly.