Firelight.

The evening settled gently over Spencer's farmhouse.

Outside, the last orange traces of sunset had disappeared behind the trees bordering the lake, leaving only the deep blue of early night reflected across the still water. The newly levelled ground where the barn would soon stand looked strangely empty now. A day's hard work had transformed the property once again, though Spencer doubted anyone else would notice the difference.

The fire pit on the deck crackled steadily. Spencer had brought a pair of old timber lounge chairs out from the small storage shed, and he and John sat back in them, letting the fire chase away the evening chill. Not that either man was in much danger of feeling cold. Between them they'd polished off one of the recovered jars of moonshine, and both wore the ruddy complexion of men pleasantly deep in their cups.

John Monaghan leaned back until his shoulders gave a satisfying series of pops. "Now that's a day's work."

Spencer lifted the old mason jar. "To one very dead moonshiner."

John barked out a laugh. "And to finding his retirement fund."

The two men clinked the glass jar together before each taking another cautious mouthful. The moonshine remained every bit as vicious as before. It burned down Spencer's throat, spread through his chest, then settled into a warm glow that made the cool evening seem almost pleasant.

"I swear," Spencer coughed, "that stuff strips paint."

John wiped tears from laughing too hard. "My grandfather would've called that smooth."

"Your grandfather was a liar."

"He was Irish."

"So am I after another sip."

Both men dissolved into another fit of laughter.

The sound of tyres crunching over gravel interrupted them.

John looked towards the driveway. "That'll be Massie."

Sure enough, a white long-wheelbase pickup bearing the Monaghan Construction logo rolled to a stop beside Spencer's hire car. Amy was first out of the raised cab and came running towards the fire as soon as she spotted her father.

"Whoa! This is cool!" She dropped her school bag beside one of the chairs before giving Spencer a quick hug. "What are you burning?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Just some seasoned firewood and a few scraps John pulled aside while we were clearing the site," Spencer replied.

"Then why does it smell funny?"

"That'd be these two sauced bums," Massie laughed.

She was slower crossing the yard, carrying four large pizza boxes balanced carefully in her arms. "Your father discovered eighty-year-old moonshine and apparently decided the sensible thing to do was drink it."

John looked offended. "It would've been rude not to."

Massie snorted. "I thought it'd be better to grab Calabressi's again. They were that good last time, and this way Spencer doesn't have to crash another car to get out of cooking."

Spencer groaned. "I am never living that down, am I?"

"Not a chance," John grinned.

Spencer fetched another pair of chairs from the shed while Massie distributed the pizzas. Before long everyone had settled around the fire, conversation giving way to appreciative silence as slices steadily disappeared.

Within twenty minutes two boxes were empty.

Spencer folded the greasy cardboard and tossed it onto the fire. The flames eagerly devoured it before settling back down again.

"They'll need feeding again soon," John observed, eyeing the dwindling pile of timber beside the pit.

Spencer nodded. "I've got plenty more." Turning to his daughter, he asked, "Got much homework tonight, sweetheart?"

"A little."

"Why don't you get started on it while we've got company?"

Amy nodded without complaint. She had always been diligent with her schoolwork, consistently finishing comfortably among the better students in her year without ever quite chasing the very top of the class.

"Night, Mr Monaghan. Night, Mrs Monaghan."

"Night, sweetheart," Massie smiled.

Amy disappeared back inside the farmhouse, leaving the three adults alone beneath the darkening sky.

Rather than opening another jar of moonshine, Massie dusted her hands together and stood. "I think you two have had enough paint stripper for one evening. Who wants a proper cup of tea?"

"Best offer I've heard all day," Spencer admitted.

John reluctantly held up the half-empty mason jar before screwing the lid back on. "I suppose we'd better leave some for history."

Massie shook her head as she headed towards the farmhouse. "I'm amazed either of you can still see straight."

Spencer watched the flames dance across the fresh logs he'd added to the fire. The warmth on his face, the gentle lapping of the lake beyond the deck and the contented quiet settling over the property made for one of those rare evenings where life seemed unexpectedly complete.

"Does it get any better than this?" Spencer said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. His eyes wandered across the property. The stars scattered across the firmament reflected almost perfectly on the glass-smooth surface of the lake, while beyond it the mountains stood as dark silhouettes against the night sky. It was hard to believe this place belonged to him.

John followed his gaze for a moment before nodding.

"You've got it made out here, Spencer. There's only one thing you're missing."

Spencer glanced across with a grin. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

John scratched thoughtfully at his beard before a mischievous smile spread across his face.

"A fiery redhead to keep your bed warm every night."

Spencer laughed.

"You talking about Danielle... or speaking from experience with Massie?"

John burst out laughing.

"Both."

They were still chuckling like a pair of schoolboys when the screen door creaked open, and Massie stepped back outside carrying three steaming mugs balanced carefully on a tray.

"I can hear you idiots laughing from the kitchen," she said, handing Spencer a mug. "Should I be worried?"

It was a lovely end to a good night when they’d finished their teas, and Spencer had stood up to see John and Massie off. They hadn’t yet moved toward their truck when a set of car headlights cut across the dark of Spencer’s farmland and turned towards the house.

“You expecting company, Spencer?” John asked.

“No,” he said, entirely unsure who it might be. It was still early evening and not that late that it would be weird for someone to be pulling into his place. Still, Spencer had not been expecting any visitors at all.

The three of them watched as a dark SUV rolled slowly into view before stopping beside the farmhouse in line with the other two vehicles.

The driver's door opened…

And Jessica Wolfe climbed out.

She had changed since school, trading her tracksuit and polo shirt for blue jeans tucked into long boots and a pale pink cable-knit sweater. Her dark curls framed her face, catching the glow spilling from the farmhouse windows.

She hesitated for a moment when she realised she had an audience. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Jessica?"

She smiled sheepishly.

"I was driving home when I remembered I still had these physiotherapy resistance bands in my office." She held up a small sports bag. "I figured I'd drop them off since your shoulder's giving you trouble."

John's eyebrows climbed almost to his hairline. "Well now…"

Spencer shot him a warning look that said Don't you dare.

Oblivious to the silent exchange, Jessica smiled awkwardly. "Bad timing?"

John slapped both knees and stood.

"Right then. We'd best be heading home."

Massie frowned. "John..."

"We've taken up enough of Spencer's evening."

She looked from John to Jessica, then back to Spencer. It was obvious she'd much rather stay and discover why the attractive PE teacher had driven all the way out to Spencer's farmhouse after dark while Danielle was away.

John's hand settled gently on the small of his wife's back. "Come on, love. Thanks for today, Spence." He gave Jessica an exaggeratedly polite nod. "Miss Wolfe."

Jessica couldn't help but smile. "John."

Then, with a grin that promised Spencer endless teasing another day, John climbed into the passenger seat and the Monaghans' truck rumbled slowly back down the driveway.

Silence settled over the property once the sound of the engine had faded into the distance.

Jessica watched the taillights disappear before turning back towards Spencer. "I feel like I interrupted something."

Spencer chuckled. "You interrupted absolutely nothing."

"He seemed awfully eager to leave."

"John thinks he's a comedian."

Jessica smiled. "Is he?"

Spencer sighed theatrically. "Unfortunately."

She stepped onto the deck. The firelight danced across her face while cool air drifted in off the lake behind her. Her eyes fell on the empty chair beside Spencer. "May I?"

Spencer gestured towards it. "Please."

She sat, stretching her hands toward the warmth.

“You really didn’t have to come all the way out here. I could have come and picked up the bands if you’d told me,” Spencer said.

Jessica looked into the fire for a moment before answering. "Would you have?"

Spencer frowned.

She met his eyes. "Honestly?"

He hesitated.

Jessica smiled gently. "I got the impression you were avoiding coming back for treatment after... what happened on the table."

Spencer let out a quiet breath. "You're right."

Jessica shrugged lightly. "These things happen, Spencer. Yes... it surprised me." A faint smile touched her lips. "And if I'm being honest, it was very flattering." She held up the little sports bag. "But I'm much more concerned about your shoulder than I am about an awkward moment between two adults."

Spencer looked at her for a long moment before smiling. "Thank you, Jessica. Truly."

"You're welcome." She stayed silent for a minute before lightening the tone. “So, tell me what you two men have been playing at all day. I saw an excavator out there when I drove in.”

Spencer glanced back towards the dark outline of the cleared ground beyond the deck. “You remember the old barn I told you about?”

“The one you want to rebuild?”

“That’s the one. John came out today to start clearing the site properly.”

Jessica looked impressed. “Already?”

“John doesn’t really do things halfway.”

She laughed softly. “I noticed that. He seems like the sort of person who decides something needs doing and then just appears with a truck full of equipment.”

“That’s almost exactly what happens.” Spencer leaned back in his chair, staring into the flames. “Although today got a little more interesting.”

“Oh?”

“We found something under the old barn.”

Jessica turned towards him. “What kind of something?”

“A still.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “A still?”

“An old moonshine setup. From decades ago. Buried underground.”

Jessica looked from Spencer to the fire and then back again. “And I’m guessing this is where the smell on you comes from?”

Spencer laughed. “Possibly.”

“Spencer.” Jessica looked almost exasperated.

“What?”

“You drank mystery alcohol that had been buried underground?”

“John said it was fine.”

Jessica shook her head, smiling. “Of course he did.”

“He’s very persuasive.”

“I can imagine.”

For a moment they sat quietly, listening to the crackle of the fire.

Jessica looked around the property again. She had never been to Spencer's farmhouse before, but there was something different about him here in his home environment. Maybe it was the darkness, or the firelight, or simply seeing him relaxed in his own space.

“You really love this place, don’t you?”

Spencer looked surprised by the question. “Yeah.”

The answer came too quickly to be anything but honest.

“I didn’t think I would at first,” he admitted. “When I bought it, it was just an escape. Somewhere away from everything else.”

“And now?”

He watched the flames dance. “Now it feels like home.”

Jessica smiled at that. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say that.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re actually happy.”

Spencer looked back at her. “Is that so unusual?”

“No,” Jessica said carefully. “Not unusual. Just different.”

The comment hung between them.

She tucked a curl behind her ear. “When you first came to Carter Junior High, you always looked like you were somewhere else. Like you were physically there, but part of you was still back in Washington. I hated seeing you like that.”

“I… never knew you noticed.”

The silence got heavier all of a sudden. To fill the gap, Spencer got up from his chair and went to put some more wood on the fire again. As he bent to pick up the log, his back spasmed, and he winced in pain audibly.

“Spencer!” Jessica was onto him in an instant. “Is it your back now? Let me look at it.”