High Spirits & Gentle Beasts (Highland Happiness Romances #3)
Meet cute madness
“Here’s to master distiller shona fraser, her faithful mascot and Kirkby’s brand-new distillery. May God bless and guide you on this journey. Slàinte!”
“Slàinte!” Shona raised her glass and nodded at Minister Jack McTavish, who was standing across from her on the other side of the barrel.
The barrel in question held the very first batch of whisky she had freshly distilled under her own label.
Stroking the woolly head of Nessie, her dark grey alpaca, Shona turned to the many guests who had gathered in front of the small makeshift stage in the distillery.
“Thank you all for coming. Let’s raise our glasses to the first vintage of Kirkby Alpaca Golden and toast it with my favourite whisky from the Gordon Gibbs Distillery!
Slàinte!” She raised her own glass and took a sip.
The smooth drink ran down her throat, spreading warmth in her as only the best spirits could.
She had really done it! She had officially opened her own distillery and completed her first batch, with the last ten small quarter casks waiting to be auctioned off here at the event later.
The buyers would mark their casks and decide themselves how long their personal single malt would mature.
Only this morning, Shona had walked through the warehouse with Minister Jack, her father Marlin and her mentor Kieran Gibbs, who had taught her the art of whisky-making.
What an incredible feeling to see all the barrels neatly lined up on the shelves, embossed with the lovely logo of her very own company.
The only snag was that it would take at least another three years before she could actually taste and sell the first batch of her whisky, and even longer before it would taste exactly how she imagined it.
But that was just how things were in her business, and impatience didn’t serve a whisky maker well.
Besides, she had all the time in the world!
At twenty-seven, Shona could reasonably expect many decades ahead in which to make and enjoy the flavour of Kirkby Alpaca Golden.
Another sip of the twenty-year-old Gordon Gibbs single malt soothed the anxiety this huge new responsibility was causing her, although she was not going to admit that to anybody!
Granted, she had dreamt of having her own distillery and brand ever since becoming one of the youngest master distillers in the country, and she still did.
But she realised only too well that this dream also had the potential to turn into a nightmare.
You only had to consider the ever-increasing number of traditional distilleries that were forced to close as costs got too high and profits too low, or they were snatched up by international investors.
Some Highland distilleries now produced exclusively for the Asian markets.
But Shona’s mind was made up: she would take a different path.
That was why she had given up her well-paid job as a whisky sommelier and brand ambassador for Gordon Gibbs in London to return to her small, sleepy hometown of Kirkby and dedicate her time to traditional whisky-making.
“You alright, hen?” Minister Jack whispered as the applause from the audience died down.
Shona cleared her throat and tried to stop the next bout of anxiety from bubbling up.
Now was not the time to freak out! If she didn’t feel up to the task, she should have thought about that earlier.
Shona closed her eyes. Feeling overwhelmed and underqualified was probably natural under the circumstances, and her anxiety would hopefully subside as she settled into her new everyday routines.
But right now, she had to pull herself together and say something.
ASAP. “What a wonderful single malt,” she continued to the group, holding up her still half-filled glass.
“If my Alpaca Golden ever gets this good, I’ll have done everything right. ”
“Just give it a hundred and seventy years and I’m sure it will,” Kieran Gibbs heckled her good-naturedly from the front row, and the guests laughed.
“Since I had the very best teacher,” she went along with his teasing and pointed at Kieran, “I am optimistic that it won’t take me quite that long.
And to bridge the gap until we can taste my first whisky, my sister Isla and I have teamed up and created a gin!
It’s called Alpaca Thistle, and you can taste it right away outside in the courtyard.
Our local pub has set up a barbecue station and Isla’s kitchen crew is catering a buffet of perfectly paired small plates to complement the gin. Enjoy!”
After another round of applause, the stuffy tasting room emptied quickly. Shona sighed with relief and gave her alpaca a kiss on her fuzzy head. “Made it through part one,” she murmured.
“Nothing gets a party going like free food and drink,” Jack remarked happily as he watched the guests making their way outside.
“Sauna temperatures in small, enclosed spaces also help,” Shona replied with a faint smile.
“You’ve done well, hen,” said the old man, giving her a paternal pat on the shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Marlin?”
“I’m incredibly proud of you, Princess.” Marlin stood off to the side of the small stage, a broad smile on his face and arms wide open to envelop his daughter in a hug.
“You did a great job. Now come here and let your old man share a moment with you before you go out there and make nice with all these people.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” Shona went to her father and let herself enjoy the feeling of being totally safe in his arms for a moment.
He had always been her anchor, the main constant in her life – and if he believed in her and what she did, everything would be okay.
“Thank you for everything,” she repeated.
“Always, lass. You’ve got this. Though I wonder why you invited quite this many people and all these reporters and those ... what are they called ... social media impactors?”
“Influencers, Daddy, and bloggers. They are really important when you’re my age.
And I want others in my generation to see that youth and tradition go well together.
Have you seen my business Instagram account?
It already has over ten thousand followers, and I only launched it six weeks ago.
These are different times, Daddy,” she added when he grumbled something she couldn’t quite make out.
Shona knew what was going on with her da.
He was her rock, her strongest supporter and her role-model.
Then again, he could be frustratingly ignorant, and he really lost it when too many strangers came to Kirkby.
If Marlin Fraser had his way, the locals would keep themselves to themselves.
Shona couldn’t understand his attitude at all, not least given that the town relied on visitors and overnight guests.
Her eldest brother Alex had turned The Cosy Thistle, the bed and breakfast that the family had been running for decades, into an exclusive eco-lodge, and her sister Isla ran a Michelin-starred restaurant, The Scottish Thistle, on the same property.
Both would go out of business without tourists, but Marlin relished playing the role of the local hermit.
Shona was certain it was just an act, which was why she ignored his concerns.
“Whoever these people are, I suppose you best look after them. I’m going to find myself a quiet corner with Jack here.” Marlin squeezed Shona tight again, then shooed her out to the others.
As Shona entered the decorated courtyard, she felt a surge of happiness that made her smile.
Everything was just perfect! The August sun shone brightly, as if the Scottish weather gods had decided to go all out for Shona this Sunday.
Cheerful people were grouped around the old barrels that served as bar tables, chatting and sampling Isla’s delicious bites.
A second stage was set up in front of the warehouse and the band was getting ready to play.
In Kirkby, no event of any kind could do without music and dancing.
Between sets, she would auction off the ten small barrels.
Shona was curious to see who would bid. Her family certainly, Kirkby’s mayor Collum McDonald and, of course, Jon Grant, owner of The Wise Pelican, their local pub.
Though Jon could pretty much be called family at this point as he and Isla were sure to get married sometime soon.
The two of them were stationed behind the buffet and Isla energetically beckoned her over.
It took Shona a while to make her way through the many well-wishers. Eventually she reached the significantly diminished catering tables. “Wow, people were hungry,” she said in surprise.
“Don’t you worry, there’s plenty more. Team’s off to get the next batch,” Isla replied. “I just have to head off pretty soon. Our dinner service starts in two hours.”
“But we have to present the gin first!” objected Shona.
“It’s yours as much as mine, so you have to be there.
” It was true: the gin was most definitely a sisterly team effort.
Without Isla, Shona would never have managed to get from idea to finished product in the short time before today’s opening event, especially not while also working on her whisky.
In fact, she had only got around to bottling the Alpaca Thistle two days ago.
Luckily for her, Isla was not only a top chef, but also an outstanding herb and aroma expert, and she had managed to give the gin a unique flavour reminiscent of thistles, heather and Highland mist. At least that’s how Shona described it to her online followers.
“I wasn’t planning to run off, I just meant to say we should open the gin bar now.”
“Aye, we can do that.” Shona took in the crowd. “Come with me,” she told her sister and dragged her through all the people to the stage. Along the way, she also got hold of the bagpipe player, who wasn’t due to perform until later.