Highland Dew

by Jeanne Magill

  He laughed. “I guess we were hungrier than imagined.”

  “We should probably start thinking about dinner.”

  Billy brought water glasses and cleared the plates away. “You know I’ve been thinking about your small-batch quest. Would you be up to a blind taste test to see what you might find out there?”

  Bryce perked up for a challenge. “That sounds like fun. Do you have some unknowns?”

  “Sure do. I’d be interested in how you’d rate them. And if you can identify the regions they’re from.”

  “All right. I’ll run upstairs while you set them up.”

  She hastened to her room. After she washed her hands, she grabbed a notepad and pen. She felt a little giddy and it wasn’t just the whisky—she loved the challenge. More importantly, she could remember how green and inexperienced she was the last time she was here learning how to taste whisky for the first time. I really want to tell Leo…but not yet.

  When she got back to the bar, five glasses were lined up with a small dram in each. Several of the staff and a few guests stood around talking. Somebody had blabbed. Oh well. It wasn’t a contest, it was just a search. Scotland’s got talent.

  Billy stood, beaming. He’d lined them up from lightest to darkest, and had a scrap of paper behind each.

  Bryce took a drink of water, then picked up the lightest. She sniffed, checked the color, sniffed, added water, then sipped. Sniffed and tasted.

  The tasting proceeded from left to right in slow methodical order. The room was quiet except for whispers and the muted street noise that wafted in from outside. It took about twenty minutes.

  Billy was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

  “Okay. This was very interesting. Very different selections.” She turned the page back. “Number one is delicate, fruity with a green apple nose. Taste was vanilla and smoke. It had an astringent end. Probably young, but I’d guess a Speyside.” She put a number in the corner of notes.

  “Number two was not as clear. Nose was smoky, toffee, and peaty. Taste was sharp, almost bitter spice with a sweet follow-up. Not sure, but this could be an Islay malt.

  “Three was sweet grass, berries. The taste mixed fruit, floral, woody, smooth finish. I’d guess Lowland.

  “Number four, rich color. Nose is garden flowers, fruity, woody. The taste is smooth, fresh apple, cinnamon, nutmeg. Ends with a nutty-sweet oiliness. Might be Speyside or Highland.”

  She scribbled another note, took a sniff, and held up number five, sniffed and looked at it. “Caramel, white oak, and lily. The taste is rounded with vanilla and spice, smooth, ends with a lingering smoke. I’d guess Highland.”

  “That was quite interesting. I hope you tell your boss that in the opinion of this old barkeeper, you’ve developed an excellent nose for our Usighe Beatha.”

  Malcolm grinned at her.

  Bryce could feel the excitement growing. “Well, how did I do?”

  Billy picked up the first slip of paper. “What region?”

  “Speyside.”

  “Correct. Number two?”

  She glanced at her notes. “Islay.”

  He paused. “Correct. Number three?”

  “Lowland.”

  “Wrong. It’s Highland.”

  Whispering and low groans of disappointment trickled through the onlookers.

  Bryce swallowed. Her palms were damp.

  “Number four?”

  This time she paused to look at her notes. “Highland or Speyside.”

  “That’s two, you’ll need to pick.”

  She looked down at her notes and bit her lip. “Fresh apple” jumped out at her. “Speyside.”

  Billy looked down at the scrap paper. “Correct.”

  Several people clapped or cheered.

  Bryce felt her face flush with embarrassment.

  “Now, the last one, number five?”

  “Highland.”

  “And you are…correct.”

  Malcolm high-fived her. “Damn, that was brilliant. I’m sure glad he didn’t ask me, I’d have got more wrong. Good tasting notes. You really have a talent.”

  Billy shook her hand. “Next round is on me.”

  “Thanks, it was fun. Malcolm, I think we better eat. I’m starved.”

  ****

  Dinner plates were removed and the server poured each some coffee. “Will there be anything else?”

  “Not for me.” Malcolm pushed back from the table.

  “I’m finished, too. Please put this on my tab, room four.”

  “That’s not necessary…”

  “Hey, this was a legitimate business expense. I was working up there,” Bryce said.

  “I can’t argue with that. Say, what did you think of the samples?”

  “I was impressed by a couple of them. The others were okay.”

  She thought about them again. She might ask Billy if he’d repeat the test when Reggie arrived tomorrow with her newly acquired samples. “Before I go up, I’m going to ask for the names just in case.”

  “It’s quite late,” Malcolm said. “I should get home before the missus gets worried.”

  They walked through the lobby to the door.

  Bryce hugged him. “This was like old times. I’m so glad we could get together.”

  “It was. Give me a call before you leave, or if Reggie has some free time. Good night.”

  Bryce watched him leave as the sun was setting. It had to be around ten. One more thing before bed.

  “Excuse me, Billy? Do you think you could jot down the names for the five samples?”

  He smiled. “I thought you might be askin’.” He pulled a note from his shirt pocket and handed it to her with a wink.

  “Thanks, you’re the best. See you tomorrow.” As she turned to go up, she thought she heard him say something.

  Chapter Seven

  Bryce re-read the notes she’d just typed up for Leo as she sipped the aromatic Scottish breakfast tea. In recounting her effort for the past few days, she hoped he would be pleased. Not enough, of course.

  She checked her most recent company list of Scottish export companies, and the two samples she liked were not listed. They must be small family operations and not registered companies.

  Her phone beeped, indicating a text.

  Reggie: Left Oban be there by noon. Ta.

  It was sunny and warm, which meant she couldn’t just sit around. She looked in the mirror. Hmm. Jeans, company fleece, trainers. That’s fine. She grabbed her notebook and messenger bag, and trotted downstairs. She left her key and a note at the desk for Reggie.

  On the way out, she spotted Billy wiping down the bar. “Good morning, Billy. Don’t you ever sleep?”

  His laugh boomed across the empty barroom. “How do you think we keep all these bottles dust-free?”

  “You have a point. It’s not a job I could do.” She walked closer and opened her notebook. “I was writing up notes this morning and I had a question. Two of the whiskies I tasted weren’t on my export list.”

  “Which two?”

  “The anCnoc and The Highland Dew.”

  “Oh. The anCnoc is a retooled whisky from Knockdhu, but it should be available. The Highland Dew is out of production.”

  “Okay, thanks. See you later.”

  The sunshine dazzled her. Everything looked fresh and alive. She pulled her car out and felt grateful she’d gotten a midsize car. It was much more comfortable. She decided to go north and then west, because she had completely forgotten her plan to visit the Cardhu Distillery, one of the prettiest and most welcoming. It was one of the reasons its tour was rated so highly. In fact, Leo might want to consider renovating some of their older properties to add a more welcoming ambience and street appeal. Note to self: check web pages for ideas.

  As she meandered through the countryside, she replayed the blind tasting. Interestingly, the two odd-ducks were the most unusual and attractive, especially that fresh apple one. It was unique and easy to like. On a whim, she tapped C
ortana. “Highland Dew Whisky.”

  A list of Highland whiskies scrolled up. “Well, that’s no help.” She asked, “Closed Speyside distilleries.”

  She pulled off and read the list. It had dozens of entries. She tried the Malt Madness® website—no mention of Highland Dew. Crap.

  The GPS alerted her Cardhu was 5.3 miles ahead. Truth be told, she liked Cardhu. Its unique flavor had become a sore point with Leo ever since he’d failed to sign them with GDD. Still, she thought it made a nice treat.

  The visit took less time than planned since they had no new offerings. Didn’t matter, and might get her back before Reggie. She’d go back via the A95, which would be faster. She followed the sign directing her to Marypark. Directly in front of her, a bus was turning the corner of the curve. Bryce gripped the steering and pulled as close to the shoulder as she dared. She held her breath and flinched as the bus passed within millimeters of her right side-view mirror.

  “Damn. Will I ever get used to these nerve-wracking close calls?” She opened one eye as the diesel smoke cleared and did a double take.

  The dilapidated white sign wobbled in the wind. “I’ll be.” It was the exact same place where she’d encountered the lumber-laden lorry.

  The dark-haired woman flashed across her mind. “I wonder…” Without another thought she steered into the driveway of the not-abandoned farm.

  She passed the orchard and made a U-turn behind the house, hoping to be seen. When she got out to look around, it was just her, the wind, and some apple blossom petals.

  “Anyone about?” she called out, and looked around. No answer. The doors were closed up and the front garden was empty. Disappointment tugged at her shoulders. “It’s no big deal, just thought it would be nice to visit,” she said to no one.

  It felt eerily quiet as she walked back to her car. The clock on the dashboard read 11:05. Might as well get back to the inn. She tracked back down the driveway and turned past the old sign and sighed. One of the legendary black Corbies sat on the post, ruffled his feathers, and cocked his head. The sleek black feathers glistened in the sun. He seemed to be looking at her. Intently.

  Bryce felt her neck hairs tingle.

  ****

  Regina Ballard smiled when she secured her insulated sample case in the trunk. Confident with her selections, Reggie enjoyed a triumphant moment. Leo would surely choose at least one of hers and hopefully recognize her skill. Bryce had gotten all the glory for years. Time to share.

  The morning had started out foggy, and she’d built in extra time because she wanted to stop in Ft. William at The Ben Nevis Distillery and check out their selection. If she remembered right, it was a favorite because of the fun staff.

  Four years ago a trade magazine had written up their “McDonald’s Glencoe 8-Year-Old Vatted Malt.” She still remembered the “cereal, spice, and kick” description from Jim Murray and wanted to give it a try. Sadly, it turned out to be a disappointment.

  Instead she chose a small sample bottle of their “Special Reserve” for comparison. It had potential, and they were exporting it to the U.S. She dictated a note.

  The next roundabout indicated the way to the A82 and Reggie laughed as she passed McDonald’s Golden Arches.

  She put a mix CD in and opened her water bottle. The sun broke through and she steered northeast toward Craigellachie.

  ****

  Bryce pulled into the parking lot behind the Highlander Inn and stopped. Her stomach growled, and all she wanted was a hot meal. She grabbed her messenger bag and stood beside the car watching the River Spey as it sparkled in the sun. The only sounds were the riffles over the rocks. The air smelled crisp, of pine and the mossy riverbanks. She took another deep breath and closed her eyes. The sun felt warm and comforting.

  When was her last vacation? She couldn’t remember. Maybe Leo would let her take a few days when they finished.

  Once inside, she could smell lunch aromas and the wood fireplace. Her stomach gurgled. Okay, time for food.

  She waved at Billy and trotted off to wash up. Her phone buzzed as she opened the door. “Hello?”

  “It’s Reggie. I just found the turnoff for the inn. Should be there shortly.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you downstairs at the entrance.” She just had time to recharge her phone, scrub her hands and face, and jot an email to Leo. His last message had sounded impatient. Or angry.

  Chapter Eight

  “Murray, would you help me get Dad inside?” Fiona walked around the car to the passenger side.

  “Here now, man, let me help.” Murray put an arm around Gavin MacDougall and helped him navigate to the door. “What’d the doctor tell you?”

  Fiona fumbled with the key. “The fall wasn’t too serious. Nothing broke, but he injured some ribs and his hip. He needs to be watched.”

  Once Gavin was settled on the sofa, Fiona flopped into a chair. “Murray, I can’t believe how bad everything has got around here. What’s happened?”

  Murray shoved his cap under his arm and shook his head. “It was all so sudden. He was just sad for missing his wife and then…well, he started getting belligerent with the boys till a couple left. We couldn’t manage well with so few and the man wouldn’t lift a finger.” He leaned against the sofa. “He’s daft more than he’s not. I had to shut down any new batches, and there’s been no shipments for a fortnight.”

  She leaned forward and pressed her hands against the side of her head. “Do you know where the books are? I need to figure out what’s going on, or we’re going to lose everything.”

  “I’ll go out to the office straight away and get things in order.”

  Murray didn’t wait for an answer and scurried out the door. His dogged loyalty to her father since they both served together was the only reason he stayed on. He never did much to benefit the business except follow her father’s directions.

  “Fiona! When did you get home?” Her father smiled from the sofa.

  ****

  Bryce tugged her jacket closer and watched as Reggie turned into the parking lot behind the inn. The river now looked unsettled. Dark grey water mirrored the dark clouds that had rolled in. She waved.

  “I made it.” Reggie pulled her carry-on up the sloped drive. She offered a one-armed hug. “Boy, it’s pretty up here.”

  “Good to see you.” Bryce surprised herself with the sincerity. “Come on in, your room’s all set.” It was good to see her co-worker. She was used to seeing her on a daily basis at home.

  “This is quaint.” Reggie looked around the small registration area and into the bar. “How’d you find it?”

  Bryce laughed. “I guess it was cellular memory. Leo brought me here ten years ago. I’ll tell you the story over a drink. Let’s get you settled.” She steered Reggie to a room next to hers.

  “All right, I’ll be back down in a couple of minutes.”

  Billy waved as Bryce walked into the cozy bar area. Even though it was May and technically spring, the fragrant burning logs welcomed her. She walked to the end of the bar and sat down.

  “What can I get you, miss?” Billy set a coaster in front of her.

  “My co-worker just arrived and she’ll be down in a minute.” She leaned a little closer. “I wondered if you’d be willing to try the taste test on her. I’d like to know if we have the same reactions. I’ll certainly pay.”

  He smiled. “As you can see, I’m not overburdened with customers and I rather enjoyed the last tasting. Do you want the same samples or something different?”

  She chewed her lip. “Hmm, could you keep the two I asked about and add a couple of different ones?”

  He nodded. “Aye, that’d be the anCnoc and the Highland Dew. Sure thing.” He moved down the bar and set out some glasses.

  Reggie came in and looked around.

  The old-world ambience of the room provided a perfect setting for a drink and conversation. Bryce smiled as Reggie walked around examining the game table and the antiques on the wall. When she turned towa
rd the bar and saw the hundreds of whisky bottles, her jaw dropped.

  “I thought you’d like this.”

  “No kidding. Have we died and gone to heaven? This is extraordinary.” Her drawl deepened with her surprise.

  “I thought you’d be impressed, and as a treat, I asked Billy to recreate a taste test like I had with Malcolm. Come sit down.”

  Five small tasting glasses were lined up in front of an empty chair. Reggie just grinned.

  “Billy, this is Reggie Ballard, my co-conspirator. Reggie, say hi to the keeper of the spirits.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Billy.” Reggie extended her hand. “This is a wonderful welcome.”

  He set out two water glasses and a plate with oatcakes and cheese. “Enjoy.”

  Bryce handed her a sheet of paper. “Here’s the deal, taste each one, jot down your first impression along with which region you think it’s from. Then move on to the next. I’ll do the same, and we’ll compare with what Billy has noted.”

  Reggie grinned. “Game on.”

  Soft Celtic flute music drifted in from the hallway adding to the crackling of the fire. Bryce watched as Reggie practiced the ceremony of tasting—just the way Leo had taught them. She was careful and methodical, noting her impressions as she went without giving away any emotion. Bryce followed her and wrote her own comments.

  The two she requested were more familiar, but Billy added some that were similar in nose and finish. She made her guesses.

  Billy watched them as he carefully dried glasses, but his eyes twinkled with mischief.

  Reggie finished the last one and wrote a few more notes while Bryce finished.

  “Are these all small-batch? Because I’m impressed with several of them.” Reggie picked up her water glass and drank.

  Billy picked up the paper under each. He nodded to Reggie. “What were your guesses?”

  “One: Highland, two: Highland, three: Islay, four: Speyside, and five: Highland.”