Would he ever be prepared to do this on his own? The idea made his heart race. Before he could respond, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in.”
Jenkins entered. “A letter arrived for you, sir.”
“Thank you.”
The butler handed the letter, then left. Heath looked at the address: London.
“It’s my father’s handwriting,” Kane said.
It was the response they had been waiting for regarding the brewery. Heath ripped open the letter. Kane read over his shoulder, the gesture comforting and intimate. Mr. Badgely gave his opinion on the practicality of starting a brewery and recommended his friend, Allan Hayes, to manage the brewery. Evidently, he’d already spoken to Hayes about the brewery and the man seemed excited about the new venture.
Heath breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly lessons were forgotten, his energy now focused on the brewery.
“We should ride out to the property and look it over again.” He didn’t wait for Kane to respond before hurrying to the door and yelling for the horses to be readied.
He glanced behind him. Kane had a wide grin on his face, shaking his head. “Very well. Perhaps it’s time to get a lesson in beer brewing.”
The men grabbed their hats before going to the stables. The ride did not take long. Although he wanted to jump off his horse, Heath gently dismounted, the pain in his leg still present. This time, he took a more critical look at the structure. The most prominent feature was the large tower, which was at the center of the two-story building. The red bricks showed signs of aging, but the walls were intact. Attached to the tower were several lower buildings, and even more singular buildings behind the main brewery.
From the walk-through they had previously done, Heath knew the offices were on the west side, with facilities on the second floor to house workers if needed. It was Heath’s hope to hire local townsfolk before looking outside the vicinity.
The brewery was close to the main road, which passed through the estate. There was a large courtyard, and the drive extended to the back, where the shipments would be packed to leave.
“Let’s go in.” Kane led the way.
The door creaked once again, and their footsteps stirred up the dust on the floor. Large windows allowed plenty of light to show them the way.
“How much do you know about brewing beer?” Kane asked as they headed further into the building.
“Not much.”
Kane stopped. “Brewing takes several days. The first step is to process the malt, which in your case I would recommend the barley since you have your own fields which will be beneficial. You won’t have to ship it in from another supplier.”
“That is good.”
“The barley is screened, soaked for several days, then dried. Afterwards, the malt is ground down and mixed with water. The liquid produced is called wort, which is then boiled with hops.”
“And all of this occurs here?” Heath motioned around them.
“Yes. Let me show you the machinery.”
Kane pointed out the large screens used to separate the barley before it was put in large vats to soak. There were large cylindrical vessels to mash the barley and copper vessels to boil the wort.
“The last step includes cooling, then putting the boiled wort in wooden casks, then adding yeast for several days before putting the final product in the casks where it will mature before being shipped to the buyers.”
Suddenly, the venture seemed daunting. Perhaps he’d bitten off more than he could chew. Heath rubbed his neck. “You think we can do this?”
“With the proper support, I believe it is possible. I recommend you write to Allan Hayes and invite him here. What can it hurt to speak with him? If my father recommends him, then I know you will get an honest response from the man.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” He would write the letter tonight.
They surveyed the other buildings to assess what types of repairs would be needed. By the time they finished, Heath’s right leg muscles seized with pain. He had relied heavily on the cane the longer they’d walked around the property. Thankfully, they were leaving for the day. As they neared the front entrance, Heath’s right foot caught on a loose board. He faltered and fell, but just as Heath pitched forward, a set of hands grabbed him.
Kane had taken hold of Heath’s jacket, trying to right him, but it was too late. They fell into a heap on the floor. Heath landed on his back with a loud thud, Kane falling on top of him. For a second, they were both stunned. Once he realized what had happened, instead of moving, Heath allowed himself to savor the feel of Kane’s body pressed against his. He could smell Kane’s soap, some wonderful masculine mixture that reminded Heath of a forest just after it rained. Several of Kane’s blond locks had fallen across his face. If Heath brushed those locks to the side, what would he see? Would the longing he felt be reflected in Kane’s features? Unfortunately, Heath didn’t have time to find out.
Kane leapt off him, then offered a hand. “My apologies.”