Highland Dew

by Jeanne Magill

  She slowed as she neared “dead man’s curve” and then saw the white posts, but no sign. Panic faded as she remembered they planned to change the sign. One deep breath and she turned up the driveway. As she neared the stone cottage, her pulse revved up and her palms began to perspire. Classical music drifted out the door. A violin piece.

  “Hello?”

  Fiona appeared and pushed open the back door. “Welcome back.”

  Bryce jogged up the steps and gratefully accepted a warm embrace when Fiona encircled her shoulders with strong arms. Her hair smelled of lavender.

  “Thank you. I’m happy to be back.” Really happy.

  “Please come in. I just opened a nice bottle of pinot noir, and dinner will be ready shortly.” They moved into the living room and Fiona poured the wine.

  “Things look a little different in here…” Bryce noted a lemon oil scent.

  “I did some spring cleaning while Dad was in hospital and got rid of some of the clutter he’s so fond of,” she whispered.

  “I like the new arrangement and the new slipcovers.” The couch and two chairs had matching grey-and-blue-checked covers that were more fitted. They picked up the blue in the oriental carpet.

  She sat on the couch and Fiona joined her with two glasses of wine. “Thanks. Since it seemed pretty clear I wouldn’t be returning to Edinburgh and university, I had to make some tough decisions and phone calls.” She sipped her wine. “Whatever we decide to do with the business, I’m going to need to be here.”

  “That must have been a hard decision. You told me how much you enjoyed teaching. And you probably have good friends there.”

  “It’s bittersweet for sure, but I had to face up to the fact that the administrative part of teaching sapped my enthusiasm more than I realized.” She turned and tucked one leg under her. “These past few weeks—with the ups and downs—have been challenging, in a good way. Mostly. Running the business will be a steep learning curve, but I’m hoping you meant what you said about helping, because I’m sure going to need you.”

  Bryce felt the quivering in her chest as heat flushed up her neck. “I’m glad you’re thinking about restarting, and yes, absolutely. I’m here.”

  The bang-step-repeat came from the hallway, and she looked at Fiona.

  “Dad and his walker,” she whispered. “Hey Dad, remember Bryce? She’s joining us for dinner. Would you like some wine?” She helped him settle in the recliner next to his pipes and tobacco.

  “Don’t think so. I’ll wait for dinner. Good to see you, Miss Andrews.” He began puttering with filling his pipe. “Heard you had to pop over the pond for a bit.” He laughed.

  “Yes, a quick business trip to arrange some time off. I wanted to be able to help out, if you’d like the help.” Bryce figured it might be a touchy subject for a proud man and his legacy.

  “Since you’re both here,” Fiona said. “I thought I’d brief you on the conversation I recently had with Tom up at Speyburn.”

  “He the fella I met with Liam?”

  Fiona smiled. “Yes. I’m so glad you recalled our meeting. They were very impressed with the Highland Dew, and are doing the bottling for us.” She picked up a folder from the coffee table, slid out the drawing of the new label, and leaned over to hand it to him. “This is a preliminary drawing. I told them we’d be changing the name slightly to MacDougall Family Distillers of Fine Whisky in the next run.”

  He held it up near the light and smiled. “I like it. Looks snazzy.” Fiona and Bryce both laughed.

  Bryce leaned back as Fiona replayed her conversation at Speyburn. Tom was the perfect guide to help them. With his knowledge and experience, she felt certain that Fiona’s dad would feel like he had an ally. It seemed important to consider Gavin’s pride and heritage if they were going to make changes.

  “I guess we’d better eat before it gets too late.” Fiona winked at Bryce.

  ****

  Fiona returned to the kitchen after settling her dad and found Bryce drying the dishes. “You didn’t need to do that.”

  “No problem. I wanted to be sure I remembered how to do it if I’m going to be on my own.” She grinned.

  Fiona felt a shiver looking at that smile. “I think you’d say it’s like falling off a bike.”

  Bryce’s laugh echoed through the kitchen.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I think you meant riding a bike. The other phrase is falling off a log.”

  Fiona covered her face. “I feel so stupid. Of course. Must be too much wine.”

  Bryce carefully folded the towel and hung it up. “Would you like to walk a bit? Dinner was wonderful, and I’m stuffed.”

  “That’s a grand idea.” She noticed Bryce had taken second helpings and felt proud of her chicken dish. “Dad’s sound asleep.”

  The threat of a storm had vanished and left a pink and lavender sky. Fiona led Bryce out around the office to a narrow path through the orchard toward some woods.

  “I had no idea there was anything back here,” Bryce said. “How much land do you own?”

  “I’d have to check with Dad to be sure, but I think there’s about fifteen or sixteen hectares in front down to the road. The area back here is probably about the same, but we’ve never used them. The original plan was to start growing our own barley, but there have never been enough hands on deck.”

  “You certainly have plenty of room to expand if you want to.” Bryce ducked under some low-hanging branches and held them. “It’s really lovely back here. You’d never know there was a working distillery this close.”

  Fiona laughed. “If it was working, you’d certainly hear it. Believe me.” She stopped and pointed back to where the warehouse was. “It’s funny you mention that. I’ve actually been doing some daydreaming about what we might need to expand. Of course, I have no particulars like the cost of repairs or buying new equipment, but I was thinking about extending the driveway some and creating more parking. We might even have a visitor center one day.”

  Bryce was staring and rubbing her chin slowly. “You know, if I allow my imagination to take over, I can see room to expand and enhance this place.”

  “It sounds a little overwhelming…but it’s also pretty exciting. I feel much better knowing that you and Tom are going to be helping.”

  Bryce nodded at a circular bench on a large oak. “Think that’s safe?”

  “Sure.” She pulled Bryce by the hand. She released it as soon as they sat, feeling a little embarrassed by the gesture. The tree bark was still warm from the sun, and felt good on her back.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. When I got back to the inn there was a message from a leasing agent I contacted. They found a small place south of here, in Black-something-or-other. I’m going to take a look tomorrow.”

  “That’s fantastic. I’ll bet it’s Blacksboat, near Mary Park. That’s really close. I know you like the inn, but this might be less driving.” She twisted to face Bryce. “I wish I could offer you a place, but you saw the two cottages…I’m not even sure how Murray manages.”

  “Oh, please don’t worry. I certainly want to be closer, but I’m kind of a recluse sometimes. Besides, I don’t want your dad to think I’m too pushy. Best I be respectful of this huge change.”

  Fiona swallowed a lump. “That’s quite considerate. I guess I didn’t think that far. I just wanted some help. But, you’re right, this will be hard for Dad.”

  Bryce took Fiona’s hand in both of hers. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to make any kind of judgment. You are making an enormous life change. It’s amazing what all you’ve had to do in just a few weeks. You really are a remarkable woman.” Her voice cracked.

  Fiona couldn’t speak. Her eyes were locked on Bryce’s, and she couldn’t take a breath. For the first time—maybe ever—someone actually saw her soul. It felt wonderful and terrifying. Bryce continued to look deep into her eyes, and squeezed her hand.

  Nothing moved. The breeze stopped and the birds were still.
<
br />   Fiona leaned in, closed her eyes, and willed the trembling to stop. She waited. Very lightly, Bryce kissed her lips. Fiona released the breath she had been holding. She put her hand on Bryce’s cheek and kissed her. Seconds ticked by and Fiona pulled Bryce into an embrace. Bryce groaned softly when Fiona stroked the back of her neck.

  Neither spoke. Fiona absorbed every molecule of warmth and strength. It coursed through her like an infusion of new hope. She inhaled deeply of Bryce and her warm skin, clean hair, and new shirt. Softly, she whispered, “I am so grateful you are here with me.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  The whitewashed holiday cottage looked like so many others in the area. The flower boxes, picket fence, and gravel drive. A sign at the road was the only giveaway she’d arrived at the right place.

  “Good day,” a tall, youngish woman answered the knock. “Ya must be Ms. Andrews, aye? Please, come in.”

  “Thank you. Yes. I’m Bryce. Thank you for showing me your cottage.” The small living room looked comfortable and homey.

  “Happy to give you a look-see. I’m Kathleen and my husband is Daniel. He’s at work,” she said, and walked straight through the kitchen and out the back door. “Works days at the distillery over yonder.” She waved her hand toward the east. “We just recently decided to fix up the little place to let.”

  They followed a winding path several yards toward some trees.

  “We lived here after we got married until my mom passed last year.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Bryce said.

  “Cancer, you know. Can be beastly.” She pointed to a wooden chalet-type building. “Here ’tis.”

  A few steps led to a nice deck with a great view of the fields beyond. The interior had the same chalet feel. More like a Northwood’s cabin. Two small bedrooms—furnished. A galley kitchen with appliances, table, and chairs. There was even a door out to a small back deck.

  Bryce smiled as Kathleen described other features. When she paused, Bryce said, “This is perfect. When will it be available?”

  The stunned woman shook her head and laughed. “I think probably by the weekend. I’ll have to call you when Daniel gets home.”

  Bryce waved as she backed out of the driveway. She checked the odometer. Already the plans were percolating. Probably use the store in Archiestown. Might have to travel to Inverness or Aberdeen for any large purchases. She opened her window and smiled. Even now she could imagine her days. An early walk behind the cottage. Looked like a creek or stream ran through the property. Then she’d make tea and some breakfast. Might even make her lunch. After a short drive…Wait. “I wonder what the roads are like in the winter?”

  In contrast, a warm breeze made her shiver, remembering the kiss. Wow. That sure wasn’t planned…but, it felt so natural and so good. Fiona’s soft skin flushed pink and the dark desire in her eyes… Could it be real, or was it wishful thinking? Didn’t matter right now. It became the missing keystone of the whole adventure. That moment held together the stones randomly placed by the other players. For now, the disparate parts of this effort consolidated. She and Fiona could make this work.

  “Woo hoo!” she shouted out the window at a half dozen shaggy heilan’ coo’s.

  She passed the empty white sign posts and the apple orchard, since Fiona said she’d be taking her dad for a follow-up with his doctor. The odometer showed 2.4 miles. Only five minutes to get to work. Terrific. The breeze and sweet smell of the blossoms evoked a quiver in her chest and sheen across her forehead and neck. Fiona McDougall, what have you done?

  Her cell phone rang. She punched the answer button on the steering wheel. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Andrews, it’s Brian Townsend from Dufftown. I wondered if you might have a few minutes to talk.”

  “Well, I’m in the car heading back to the inn. Is there a problem?”

  After a pause he said, “Well, we may have hit a snag. I’d really feel better talking to you in person.”

  What the… “Okay. Can you meet me in a half an hour at the Highlander Inn?”

  “I’ll be there.” She disconnected

  “Shit.”

  ****

  Reggie kicked off her shoes and flopped back on the bed. For a slow and easy southern girl, these representatives of the Far East Division worked hard to get ten hours’ worth of work done in an eight-hour day. These guys did not waste time on small talk or any part of her normal, relaxed sales regimen. It was exhausting.

  She reached for her laptop and pushed back against the pillows. When the message from Bryce had arrived last week, she’d ruminated over the contents and Bryce’s surprisingly kind reply. It was unexpected considering how reprehensibly Reggie had acted. Even more surprising that Leo hadn’t fired her.

  It might be foolish, but maybe she and Bryce could repair the damage. Reggie swiped at the tears for a lost friendship she’d taken for granted. If she were honest with herself, she’d recognize how happy Bryce had become in the past month or so. Maybe Fiona had helped heal the broken heart…Bitch.

  The clock radio indicated 18:30, but she was too tired to do the math. Maybe an email tomorrow.

  The knock at the door startled her; then she remembered her room service order.

  ****

  Fiona pulled the car up to the house and parked. The doctor had seemed very pleased with the improvement in her dad’s physical and mental health. She was, as well.

  “Wait, let me help.” Fiona hurried around the car.

  “I’m fine. No need to baby me.” He pulled his cane out. “Not sorry about losing that damn walker.” He laughed.

  “Oh, it’s not lost, just retired for awhile.”

  “After I change into something more comfortable, I’d like to do some inspecting in the main building.” He climbed the steps easily. Fiona smiled.

  “Good plan. I’ll join you for some instruction.”

  At the back door, he smiled and held it open.

  Fiona shrugged off her jumper and quickly donned some old jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Her father’s steady improvement made her very hopeful. Maybe everything did happen for a reason. Tom had already sent her a check for their first sales. It seemed reasonable to begin cleaning and renovating the distillery.

  “Dad?”

  “I’m out here. Bring a notebook and some extra light.”

  Evidently, he was anxious to get going. She grabbed a clamp-on flood light and an extension cord, and hurried to catch up with him.

  “Before we do that, I want to look at the warehouse. I think it might be good to have a spot to put the barrels going out in order so there’s no mistakin’ which ones go first. That might mean some cleaning and better light.”

  “Do you remember any of the lads from around here to help?”

  He scratched the back of his neck. “Not offhand. Let me look through the payroll books. I might be able to put a name with a face.”

  “Okay, I’ll bring them up to the house after supper.” She stopped and looked around. “Have you seen Murray lately?”

  ****

  “Brian, it’s good to see you.” Bryce shook his hand. “Why don’t we go in here and talk.” She chose a table by the window in the bar and smiled at Billy. “I haven’t eaten. Would you like something to eat?”

  “I don’t want to take up a lot of your time…” He pulled out a chair and sat down. He ran his fingers through his thick red hair and clasped his hands tight. He seemed to be perspiring.

  “Brian, it’s fine. You look worried. How about a beer?”

  “Thanks. That’d be great.”

  Bryce waved, and Billy came over.

  “We’d like a couple of draft beers. And I’d like you to meet Brian Townsend, one of our enterprising new distillers.”

  Billy shook his hand. “Glad to meet you. I’ll get those beers.”

  “Oh, and a menu.” Bryce leaned back and smiled. “So, what would you like to talk about.”

  “I sent off the papers you gave me to the fella in Airdrie
. I’ll bet it wasn’t a week later me and Gary got a letter from a solicitor representing the old fella we lease from.”

  Billy set the beers down along with the menus. “Give me a call when you want to order.”

  “Thanks, we will.” Bryce looked over as Brian quaffed about half his beer and wiped his beard. “Go on.”

  “Seems the old fella passed and his niece and nephew want to sell to a developer for some upscale housing.” He rubbed his chin and took another swallow. “We tried to see if we could buy it, but the property is quite large—well, you know that. We can’t afford it.” His voice cracked.

  Bryce put her hand on his wrist. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could think of something.”

  “It’s no worry of yours. I just wanted to let you know because you seemed fond of our whisky and we’ve only got what we’ve stored. They gave us three months. It ain’t much, but we will be able to finish this last run.” He scrubbed his face with both hands and finished off his beer.

  Her mind raced with a dozen different thoughts. “This is heartbreaking news. You still have some time and there’s maybe a solution.” She waved at Billy and pointed at the empty mug in front of Brian. I wish Leo was here. He’d know what to suggest. They might be able to buy what he had…but there was no guarantee how it might age out. Neither Airdrie or Speyburn had large enough storage areas.

  “Thanks for listening, I didn’t mean to go all soft on you. Just wanted to tell you in person that we wouldn’t be able to keep to the agreement.”

  “Brian, that’s not a worry. You just agreed to let us represent you. We can put that on hold, if you like.”

  Her cell phone chimed a text. “Excuse me a sec.”

  Fiona: Hi. We spent most of the afternoon working on the warehouse and listing more projects. Whipped. Can we talk tomorrow?

  Bryce: Sure. I’ll call.

  “Sorry. Would you like to order something?”

  Brian pushed his chair back. “I think I’ve taken too much of your time. If you don’t mind, I ought to get home to the family.” He stood. “Thanks for your time…and the beer.”