White Ashes by John D. Moulton

Author:John D. Moulton [Moulton, John D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781491771501
Publisher: iUniverse
Published: 2015-08-14T04:00:00+00:00

PART 5

THE GATHERING STORM

CHAPTER 23

Mid-morning Saturday was dark and grey in the Scottish borders. It was hard to believe that yesterday had been so splendid. Black clouds drifted low through the hills as the Vincent took Jason and Rachael north up the A74 through Lockerbie and on toward Moffat.

The rolling hills became more mountainous as the couple journeyed on through Johnstonebridge and Beattock before turning right to take the Moffat road toward Selkirk and Galashiels. Soon, Moffat was behind them as they rode through the spectacular sights of the Moffat Water Valley. The wind had a biting chill and the clouds hung low and ominous above them, but nothing could quell the beauty that was all about them on this long and winding road.

Just beyond the Grey Mare’s Tail waterfall, a sign to the rest home pointed off to the left. At last, Jason was just minutes away from being with Jill again. Up the narrow, twisting lane they went; a low hawthorn hedge grew tight to its edges. Two hundred yards further and the hedgerow was broken by a long steel gate that stood open to the side of a cattle grid. A well-kept sign confirmed their arrival: ‘Saint Mary’s Hospice—Private Rest Home’. A large stone-built house stood in the distance. Three fine Aberdeen Angus cattle grazed lazily on the meadowland that surrounded it, their huge outstretched horns adding a menacing aura to their preponderous grace.

The Vincent rumbled down the drive, sounding like some muttering, sulking monster ungraciously suffering a demand for quiet that had come from a higher force.

They soon reached the circular parking area by the front door. The building stood tall, overlooking the countryside that rolled away before it. Down steady slopes and across the lane the land tumbled, and then down again to surround Saint Mary’s Loch before rising to form the mountainous skyline of the Ettrick Forest. They dismounted and looked over to the distant shimmering water for a moment as they took off their helmets. A wind had picked up through the valley and it skated across the loch in broad, rippling bands, like huge shoals of tiny fish darting around in frenzied chaos, lit by the dappled sunlight that pierced through dark clouds.

The cold air had chilled their bones, so they were grateful to be heading inside. Jason took Rachael’s hand and they turned to knock at the door. A pretty young nurse in a white uniform answered it. She looked hardly old enough to be a nurse at all.

She smiled and stood back to allow them entry, and then she held out her hand. “I’m Jenny. I’m training here. Welcome to Saint Mary’s.”

The two offered their hellos and shook Jenny’s hand before looking around at the grand hallway. It had a highly polished wooden floor and plain white walls that were decorated by huge oil paintings of Scottish mountains, highland cattle, and majestic red deer.

Jason rubbed his hands together to warm them in the surprisingly welcoming atmosphere of this grand old building.

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