After losing her job, Dane Foster starts spiraling out of control. Looking for a reason not to drown herself in a bottle, she travels to Jellico in the hopes of finding family and a place to belong. But she isn’t exactly welcome in the small town where people don’t take to strangers and like to keep their secrets to themselves.
Emma Reynolds looks after her younger brother Curtis and puts her heart and soul into keeping her parents’ bar alive. She’s lost too much to trust anyone with her heart, including Dane Foster, the good-looking, mysterious stranger renting a room in her house.
When Curtis gets in too deep with drug dealers, Emma and Dane find their lives entwined by secrets from the past that someone doesn’t want exposed. Their search for answers and their growing desire for each other could ignite a new future and lasting love. If they survive…
Tennessee Whiskey
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Tennessee Whiskey
© 2019 By Donna K. Ford. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-557-8
This Electronic Original Is Published By
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P.O. Box 249
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First Edition: November 2019
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Ruth Sternglantz
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])
By the Author
Healing Hearts
No Boundaries
Love’s Redemption
Unbroken
Captive
Tennessee Whiskey
Acknowledgments
Writing, like all art, is an author’s attempt to turn experience, emotion, sensation, and curiosity into something that can be shared. Once we discover our writer’s voice, the need begins. Writing becomes an addiction, a compulsion, a need. But in this need, there is great power, power to create, power to influence, power to understand. We authors are collectors. We collect emotions, experiences, and events that we then weave together into stories that help us make sense of it all.
This book is one of those stories. Appalachia is a place, a culture, a people. It is made up of old traditions born out of desperate need, commitment to family, despair, hard work, and resourcefulness. I have never experienced another place or culture with more heart and perseverance. Appalachia is my home, my history, and most often my inspiration.
I offer many thanks to you the reader for joining me in this sharing. I hope you enjoy the adventure as much as I do. I have had the pleasure to meet some of you along the way, and your kind words and encouragement mean more than you could know. Special thanks to my beta reader, Brianne, for her gentle prodding, keen eye, and willingness to keep going even when her plate is full. Boundless thanks to my editor, Ruth Sternglantz, for her guidance, patience, and her contagious enthusiasm. And thanks to Radclyffe, Sandy, and all the Bold Strokes team. You have my deepest gratitude.
Dedication
In loving memory of Cordelia Kennedy Lowe
Chapter One
Dane Foster tossed her camera bag over her shoulder and pulled her luggage off the airport carousel. She’d been in more airports in the last few months than she could count, and the routine left her disoriented. She’d usually have to find a guide to get her feet on the ground, but this time was different. This was home, or at least it used to be. For years she had pushed memories of East Tennessee out of her mind. It was a bit ironic that the one place she had spent years trying to get away from ended up being the one place she needed to be the most.
She stepped outside McGhee Tyson Airport and looked out at the Smoky Mountains looming in the distance, the mist rising in its iconic way, blanketing the tapestry in white clouds. It was a view she had never tired of seeing. She kicked herself for waiting so long to make the trip home. But the world had a way of eating up time and spitting out a used-up life like a dog’s chew toy.
It was certainly that way for her. After years roaming around the globe documenting one vicious atrocity after another as a freelance photojournalist for various print magazines, sacrificing everything, and losing everyone she’d cared for, she found herself jobless and right back where she’d started. But she’d made a promise to her best friend that one day they would come here together, and Dane would show her the splendor of the mountains and the unique culture of Appalachia. Michelle never got that chance, but Dane was determined to fulfill the promise just the same. In the months since Michelle’s death, Dane had been adrift, unable to find direction in her life. She spent days thinking of the past and longing for those she had lost. Losing Michelle had opened Pandora’s box, leaving Dane haunted with questions about her past, regrets for too many mistakes, and uncertainty of what to do next.
Dane grabbed the first cab waiting at the curb. She tossed her bag in the back seat and climbed inside.
“Where to, man?” the driver asked, barely looking up to see who had gotten into his car.
Dane smiled, the slow Southern accent taking her back to her younger years when life was easier, and time moved at a different pace. “Do they still have all those car dealerships along Alcoa Highway?” she asked.
As soon as she spoke the cabbie’s head snapped up, his eyes apologetic in the rearview mirror.
“Oh yes, ma’am. Sorry about that. I didn’t realize…But yeah, the whole strip is lined with ’em.”
“Good,” Dane said, leaning back against the seat. “Take me to the first one you come to.”
The cabbie nodded and put the car in gear. “Sure thing.”
An hour and five thousand dollars later, Dane pulled out of the Chrysler dealership in a 1995 Jeep Wrangler. There was no back seat, but she wouldn’t need that anyway. It was a far cry from the BMW she was used to driving, but it was exactly what she needed for now. Besides, she’d enjoy playing a little rough for a while.
Dane pulled into a gas station to fill up the tank and grab some snacks for the road. She picked up a copy of the Knoxville News Sentinel and a couple of smaller papers to catch up on the local news. It didn’t take long to pick up the theme of the drug epidemic ravaging the rural Appalachian communities.
A spark buzzed in her ear. No matter where she went in the world there was something tearing the people apart. In most places she had been it was war and religion. Why would this place be any different? It seemed the whole human race was out to destroy itself. She had done a pretty good job of destroying her part of it too. She was burned out, fried, washed-up. Those were just some of the phrases used to describe her as she was given her walking papers. She’d been back from Iraq six months before her boss finally pulled the plug on her. It was for the best. She had no interest in going back. It didn’t matter how much money there was to be made—nothing was worth that kind of hell.
She knew her boss had tried to give her a chance. Simon wasn’t a bad guy, but too many nights drinking and too little sleep hadn’t been the best remedy to chase the demons away. When everything caught up with her, her career was just one of the casualties left in the dust and debris.
Dane squeezed he
r eyes tight to black out the nightmares that forced their way into her waking life. She turned up the radio to shut out the sounds of the bombs exploding around her. She could still feel the heat of the blast. Her ears rang, a signal the headache was on its way.
A horn blared, and Dane jerked the steering wheel, narrowly missing the car next to her. She had been so caught up in the past, she had drifted into the other lane. She waved her apology to the other driver.
She sighed. At least the excitement had cleared her head. The headache would come no matter what, and the memories would be waiting. Dane looked to the mountains looming in the distance and wished Michelle could see them. She smiled to herself, imagining the trouble the two of them could get into together. Her smile faded as she thought of this as their last journey together. She had come here to lay Michelle’s memory to rest. Her body was miles away, but Dane had the overwhelming need to fulfill that last dream they had together. She hoped this would be the one thing that would quiet her nightmares and allow her to let Michelle go.
Dane hadn’t bothered to let her father know she was coming, but she wanted to see him. They hadn’t exactly been close, and they’d barely spoken in years. But she wanted to change that. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She had to stop running from her father and the loss of her mother. Her father had no idea what was going on in her life. But he had never cared about anything but the job, which she no longer had. How would she explain? She dreaded the look of disappointment she knew she would see in his eyes.
Dane shook her head, second-guessing herself. Why had she come here? What did she hope to find in the mountains and valleys of her past? She had been smothered here. She had been miserable. She hadn’t been able to wait until she could graduate and get as far away as possible. She had spent years wanting to leave and never look back, and that had been exactly what she had done.
Doubt grew in her mind until it was hard to think. She sat at a stop sign, staring down the road that led to her father’s house. Her heart raced as her anxiety grew. What was she so afraid of? Her father wasn’t a bad man. She wanted to believe they could find a way to talk to each other. She drove to the house and parked along the road. It was just as she remembered. The trees had grown, marking the passage of time, but everything else was the same as she remembered.
The front door opened, and a woman walked outside. Her red hair instantly had Dane’s blood boiling. Her stepmother was only seven years older than her. She had made Dane’s life a living hell since she was fourteen years old. She could hear her stepmother’s condescending voice pointing out a myriad of things she had done wrong, making sure to guilt Dane so she wouldn’t complain to her father.
Dane watched the woman as she got into her Mercedes. Her stepmother drove past without even a glance at her. Dane ground her teeth and gripped the steering wheel, fighting the urge to ram the Jeep into the side of the car. The moment passed, and she let out a long slow breath. Whatever she was looking for, she wasn’t going to find it here. She had nothing to say to her stepmother. She only wanted to see her father.
Dane scrolled through her phone, locating her father’s office number in her contacts. She took a deep breath and dialed.
“Foster Investments, how can I help you?” a woman’s lilting voice sang through the phone.
Dane took a deep breath. “I would like to speak with David Foster, please.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Foster is out of the office right now. May I ask who’s calling? I would be happy to pass on a message.”
Disappointment hit Dane like a punch to the gut. She contemplated leaving a message but didn’t know what to say. Hi, Dad. It’s only been five years since my last visit, but I thought we’d have lunch. Call me. “No, thank you. I’ll try again another time.”
She ended the call, wondering if this was all a sign she should just move on. What did she really expect? Part of her wanted to tell her father the truth about everything, needing his reassurance that despite everything, she would be okay. She returned to her contacts and called her father’s cell.
“Dane?” Her father’s voice sounded uncertain and held a hint of surprise.
“Hi, David. Yeah, it’s me.”
“What’s wrong?”
Dane took a deep breath. “Nothing. I’m in town for a couple of days. I hoped we could get together for lunch or something and catch up. There are some things I wanted to talk to you about.”
“You’re in town?” She heard a shuffling sound as if he had shifted the phone between his ear and shoulder as a strangely mechanical voice spoke in the background. She imagined him checking his watch. “Are you working on a story here?”
“Yeah, just for a couple of days, like I said, but it’s not work.”
There was more rustling on the line. “Not work. Is something wrong?”
“No. I just wanted to talk. It’s been a while.”
“I really wish I’d known you were coming. This is not a good time. I’m at the airport and my flight leaves in twenty minutes. I won’t be back until late next week.” He hesitated. “Maybe we could make some time then. Will you still be around?”
Dane closed her eyes. She shook her head. He’d likely been at the airport when she’d landed. If she’d bothered to call, she could have made the connection there. “I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on it.”
She heard more rustling on the line. “Like I said, this is a bad time. What did you want to talk about?”
Dane didn’t want to get into it over the phone and her questions couldn’t be answered in just a few rushed minutes. “Some things have happened.” She stopped herself. “I want to ask you some things about Mom.”
His sigh was thick. Even through the phone she could hear his disapproval. “What now?”
“I just need some answers, David.”
“Look, I have to board the plane. I don’t have time to get into this.”
“I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself,” Dane snapped, unable to hide her frustration. Since her mother’s death, David had been unwilling to talk about her. He always had an excuse not to answer Dane’s questions.
“Leave it alone, Dane. I don’t know what else you think there is to know. Don’t go looking for trouble.”
“Trouble? I just want to know about my family.”
“Look. We can talk about this another time. I have to go.”
Dane gritted her teeth. “Yeah, it was good talking to you.” She ended the call before he could respond. She blew out a frustrated breath. There was no point sticking around town. She’d promised Michelle they would see the mountains. Now was as good a time as any.
She put the Jeep in gear and drove away. She had no idea where she was going, but traveling and drinking seemed to be the only things she had going for her these days. She decided to head north. She had always wanted to see the place where her mother had come from. Maybe she’d find some of the answers at the beginning.
* * *
Dane had been driving for two hours. Fatigue and restlessness were getting the better of her. She hadn’t seen much more than mountains, run-down houses, and fields of hay for the past thirty miles or so. An old sign by the side of the road caught her attention as she neared the Kentucky state line. The sign was simple and to the point: the Cozy Corner Bar. Cold beer and cheap cigarettes. She doubted she would have many more chances to stop along the rural stretch of road. She guessed this place would be as good a place as she would get.
The building was small. It looked more like an old garage than a bar, but Dane decided to take a chance. She was thirsty and hungry and needed to stretch her legs. She circled the lot. All but two cars were parked in the back. She guessed this was the kind of place most people didn’t want to have their car seen from the road.
Dane parked in back and pulled an old cap from her duffel. As she stepped out onto the gravel parking lot, she scuffed her boots through the dirt to dull their polish. At least her jeans were worn and rough after too many miles through too many count
ries. She threw her bag over her shoulder, not bothering to lock the Jeep. Anything she wanted to keep, she’d take with her. There was no point in asking a thief to cut the top of the Jeep to take a look around.
The moment she stepped into the bar she knew her efforts to fit in had been pointless. She stood out like a pink flamingo at a rodeo. Every eye in the room followed her across the bar, an ominous silence following in her wake.
She took a seat at the end of the bar and turned on her stool so that her back was against the wall. She dropped her duffel on the floor at her feet along with her camera bag. She rolled her eyes. The bags were a dead giveaway that she didn’t belong in this place. Oh, well, it could be worse. At least she spoke the same language this time.
A tall woman with auburn hair pulled through the back of a Tennessee baseball cap greeted Dane. She had winter blue eyes, tan skin, and a look that said she was in charge.
“What’ll it be?” she asked, as if this was a test.
Dane glanced around the room. “Bud Light,” she said eyeing the bottle of Tennessee Whiskey on the wall just behind the woman’s head. Her mouth watered. She could almost taste the amber liquid on her tongue. But that was a demon she couldn’t afford to let out of the bottle tonight.
“Anything else?” the woman asked.
Dane swallowed. “No. That’s good for now, unless you’re available later.”
The woman looked Dane up and down. When their eyes met again, Dane could see the distrust as clear as shutters being drawn over fragile windows. Dane felt a shiver climb up her spine. The woman didn’t say anything in response, but her look was enough to stop Dane cold in her tracks. This might have been a bad idea.
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