The damage to Josie was largely superficial and Doctor Macauley was confident that there would be no permanent scarring from the peppering of shot - they had lost much of their power bouncing off the cabins walls - and her experience in the flooded cabin of Westering Home seemed to have created no serious mental difficulties. She was young he said and resilient and the knowledge of who had followed her into that Stygian gloom gave her strength. Langhers had caustically remarked that he was always trying to play the hero and Steel told him to get stuffed. She was confined to a further seven days of Jill Darling’s tender ministrations, once Jill had concluded her reminder that any re-union should have been with a single malt and not a saline drip. Steel's wounds had recovered and Jardine sent him home for a month of rest and recuperation.
Langhers’ attackers were tucked away at Norton grange, the northern extension of the Grange. Superficially a mountain activities centre based around the core of a Highland estate, but like the Grange itself, a discreet place where interested parties could indulge in delicate negotiations in quiet seclusion. They were out of the game and would remain that way for some time, awaiting the conclusion of Jardine’s own negotiations. Two or three tense meetings followed and a vigorous bit of mutual back scratching had the situation resolved and tidied away.
The sentinels remained on the hills for three weeks after Westering home foundered and maintained a low profile by offering their services to Jock Bruce. By the time they returned to Norton grange two of them had a practical knowledge of dry stone walling. Langhers returned to The Grange and dropped Steel off at home on the way.
It was there that Josie caught up with him, free of the pads and bandages, she borrowed a car from the pool, wangled a couple of days leave from Jardine and drove up to the converted mill on the edge of the Pennines that Steel called home. Externally it retained much of its original character, the transformation having been worked inside. An open plan design installed in the main body of the building and an adjoining, smaller structure had provided a bathroom separate from the lounge and dining area on the ground floor and a gallery under the eaves made a sleeping space. He opened the door to her knock dressed simply in jeans and a sweat shirt and she noticed the interior was as practical. To call it minimalist would have been to render it arty, this was simply practical. Everything had a job and he worked on the basis that if something did the job, it was right and she realised it worked.
"Can I come in?" She said to his look of surprise.
"Of course and welcome with it." He said, moving aside and sweeping her in with his arm. She gazed around her, drinking in the surroundings and nodded appreciatively. "Austere, but nice." She said as he ushered her to the settee, part of a suite clustered around an open fireplace and a rug made of four complete sheepskins. A pyramid of sticks huddled in the grate, ready for lighting later. It was a good start and the day got better, Steel, cheered by the news that she didn't have to be back at the Grange for a couple of days at least, decided that would give them a chance to see how the land lay and as Josie said that evening after dinner, she felt she had something to say to him, but wasn't sure how to. He told her not to worry, there was time and whatever it was, they could work it out and she slept in the king size bed in the gallery while Steel settled on the settee and stared at the ceiling for a long time before his mind slowed down enough for sleep.
There was a frisson of tension in the air which served to heighten the delight they both had in the bright clear morning which dawned and blossomed to full day before either of them was fully awake, or even up and about, she had reached a decision during the night and the resolve calmed her as it had done a month or so before in Scotland, so she readily accepted Steel's invitation for a walk across the hills around the barn. She matched his pace easily as they climbed out of the valley on to the grit stone edges of the Derwent watershed and picked their way across the tussock grass and burnt heather. West lay the backbone of Pennines and east the land fell away to Sheffield and beyond to the flat lands towards the East Coast. There was little conversation, but the silence was a gentle ease they shared and cherished. The air was bright and the breeze had a sharpness that caught the breath and set the skin tingling. Steel was happy to see that she healed well, the scoring of the shotgun pellets had all but disappeared and her eyes sparkled as the wind played with the loose strands of her hair, the mass of it bound by a blue silk scrunchie. Laughter came readily to her lips when they did speak and gurgled like the bright water of a mountain stream, irrepressible, buoyant and so powerful that his doubts were almost crushed under the torrent, even when she stepped off the track and sank to her knees in soupy mud, it was laughter that delayed her return to solid ground. Eventually they found their way back down into the valley and along the track that led home. They shed their boots and gaiters at the door and Steel aimed Josie at the bathroom first, to bathe and change while he sorted out the preparations for dinner. With an appetite from walking there would be nothing fancy tonight, just straightforward home cooking.
After dark the room was filled with the glow of the fire and a handful of candles Josie had found in a cupboard and placed strategically around the floor to lift the shadows in the corners. "I don't want any dark corners tonight," She said softly and poured him a good measure of Laphroaig. Steel sniffed the dark smoky liquid, sipped it and let the whisky flare on his tongue. He watched with a certain amount of alarm at the measure she poured and the gulp which sent half of it down her throat in one go. "Whoa, steady, go easy Josie, it will sneak up on you."
She felt the explosion in her stomach and shook her head. "Oops, you're right. This is stronger than I'm used to." She looked warily at the glass, still with half of the measure in it. Steel watched her carefully, gauging her mood and bearing in mind that she had spoken earlier of returning to the Grange in the morning and as the evening wore on the laughter stayed there on the surface, but deep down something was becoming very brittle. The blackness of a Moorland night closed around the building and close to midnight he heard the rain dash itself against the windows. Maybe he should have taken the bottle off her, but then he guessed that this was one of those times when caution and sense could go and take a hike and let the truth come out. She was certainly giving the whisky a run for its money and hanging on to a shred of sobriety, allowing the spirit to coax her over the line. Josie sat on the rug with her legs drawn up under her, resting her weight on one hand and staring into the flames, the bottle close by and a splash of whisky in the glass, a flare of burning gold she turned in the lead crystal to catch the flickering of the fire. Maudlin, she took a sip and swirled it again, Steel stretched out on the rug beside her, his hands clasped behind his head, looking at the way the firelight caught the red highlights in her hair, the glossy curls hung like a curtain around her face, he reached up and gave them a gentle tug, breaking her reverie. "Hmm?" She murmured.
"Penny for them, if that's not undervaluing them too much." Steel asked. She rolled the spirit around the glass and took another sip. "I've had too much to drink tonight and I'm a bit scared I could say something stupid." She drained the glass and lay down beside him, wriggling to straighten her skirt and propped herself up on one elbow, her hair falling across her face like a veil. Steel reached out and lifted it clear, hooking it behind her ear.
She touched the glass to her lips and licked a lingering droplet from the rim; the tip of her tongue slid delicately around the glass and then she put it down well out of the way. Steel reached for the bottle, recharged his glass and held it out for Josie to refill hers. "Just a splash," she said, "a little splash, enough to taste it and breathe it in."
He tipped half a cap full into the lead crystal glass and she put the glass to her nose and breathed deeply. "This isn't how I remember whisky, the taste and the smell, this is complex; layered." She said and put the glass aside.
"It's single malt; you've probably been drinking blends. Perhaps you should have done this before you gave it a good hammering; it's an individual, like you."
She leaned forward, her hair gently brushing his face, casting a shadow over both of them, vision faded and the sense of smell dominated. The whisky on her breath, her hair and the smell of her body, a fragrance he found especially alluring. She breathed on him, stirring all the smells into the headiness of the scotch; she shifted her position and leaned across him. "That's very sweet of you," she said, "I think; I've never been compared to a single malt whisky. Are you flirting with me?"
"Would I flirt with you?" He responded his voice laced with humorous incredulity. "Eh, would I do such a thing, as to play with your emotions?"
She was about to say reply when something stopped her in her tracks and she looked down at him open mouthed. Her lips curled into a smile and began to lower her head. "Can you give me one reason why I shouldn't say thank you with a kiss?"
"That would depend on what you were saying thank you for and whether or not it warranted such a display."
She blew a wayward strand of hair away from her mouth with a snort of exasperation. "You have to be so bloody rational about it, I want to say thank you and I want to give you a kiss."
Steel smiled and she leaned forward, her lips brushing his with the softest touch, dragging slightly and something inside her snapped and she bore down on him with all her pent up emotion pouring through that single contact, Steel rolled her, responding to the power in her kiss, turning her on to her back, but she hung on, the hunger in her touch sealing their mouths, until she broke off, gasping for air and let herself down gently. He fanned her hair across the sheepskin; the firelight caught the sparkle in her eyes. She breathed out slowly. "Wow, I don't know what happened there."
"I do and I couldn't have said it better myself." He said.
"So what did I say?"
"Thank you, but that was just the beginning, I think you just wrote a book with one kiss." Steel whispered.
"And now?" She asked, her voice cracking with the dryness in her throat.
"The sequel." He said and stood up raising Josie to her feet.
Josie pulled herself close to him and sliding her hand around the back of his neck, tipped his head towards her, closing her mouth over his. "Sounds good."
Steel slipped his hands around her waist and began to ease her blouse from the waistband of her skirt.
"Not here," she breathed between kisses, "upstairs, nobody sleeps on the settee tonight." Josie broke the kiss and led him to bed. Neither spoke as each stripped the other and slid under the covers. They were silent as the sheets whispered sweet nothings around them until she cried aloud and her nails gouged the skin of his shoulders.
In the early hours of the morning as the sweat cooled on her skin, she drew herself closer to him, rested her head on his chest and listened to the rhythm of his heart and wondered why she should be so happy. The temptation was to ask for how long, but she knew better than that. The past was over and there is no future, it doesn't exist. Only the moment and in that she was happy, she snuggled closer and wrapped her arms around him, locking her fingers together and slept.
*****