“So, you’re a good girl after all.” Silas plopped down on the couch next to her.
“Yeah, what makes you say that?” she wondered.
“You didn’t take more than a sniff of that whiskey but you didn’t run out the door either. You’re alright, Emmie.” He pushed her with his elbow.
She felt her body turn red from toe to nose. What was wrong with her?
***********
Silas tried not to laugh at her blush. At first yesterday, out by the pool, he and his brother had thought she was some sort of floozy. He could see now he was wrong. She had been genuinely embarrassed. Vince had told him she was a friend of the family. Silas knew from experience that just because someone was a friend of one family didn’t mean she was a friend to them all. He knew he should just walk back to the pool table and keep playing. So why couldn’t he move from this couch? He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a loose embrace, his feet moving quickly to the music. Silas could tell by how tense she was that she’d not had much experience with dancing, she was so stiff. Maybe she should have had the bourbon.
“Relax, Emmie,” he whispered.
“I don’t know that crazy dance.” She nodded over to Ava and Gabe.
He laughed out loud. “Who would want to? It’s ridiculous.”
At last she threw her head back and laughed, relaxing around him for the first time. Silas pulled her in closer. Wrapping one arm all the way around her waist while his other arm held her hand tightly to his chest. This was the best he’d felt in a long time. He’d deal with the consequences tomorrow. He was going to enjoy this tonight and with that thought he leaned down and brushed a quick kiss on her lips.
***********
Spotty entered the mouth of the cave and plopped down at Walter’s feet. Walter walked over and scratched his ears. Silly name for the dog. Not a damn spot on the thing, he grinned. The girl must be at that Del Grande house if the dog was out roaming around. He didn’t know if that was good or bad. Talk about wolves in the forest. Them people were wolves, keeping more skeletons in their closet than Red Riding Hood’s grandma, if ya ask me. I suppose it weren’t none of my business though.
Walter stood back and watched little to no steam escape his makeshift pipe. Emmie was good at making paste for the still pipe on Ole Maizy. Maybe if he could just get a little more business he could give the girl a couple more dollars each month.
He had just dropped off a dozen ears of his best corn on her porch. He didn’t exactly know why he felt like he needed to raise her. Their families had been neighbors for years. Her mama, Ruby, was a sweet little thing that could barely raise her voice enough to shoo away a fly. He didn’t know how she did it. She lived there alone on that farm with a toddler and did it with a smile on her face too. The townsfolk talked about her having a baby with no dad. He never knew if she was a widow or just a young mom that got herself in trouble. He never cared to ask, either. The way he figured it wasn’t any of his business.
It wasn’t long after Ruby had moved to town that she’d married that good-fer-nothin’ Ronnie. Always had been a thorn in his side. He must have convinced her she needed him, having that baby and all. He probably weaseled his way into her life just like he did Walt’s.
For all Ronnie’s faults he was a stiff negotiator. It was a few years ago he had come toting a gun to Walter’s barn. Mouthing off, saying he’d found Walt’s still on his land.
“I know it’s yours Walt. No use in lying to me,” he’d boomed arrogantly.
Walt had tried to play it off like he didn’t know what he was talking about. But Ronnie had pulled out Walt’s pipe and tobacco. Damn it. He was getting too old for this. It was a fool’s mistake leaving something like that behind.
“Alright, I admit it. You better get to shooting me Ron or get outta here. I ain’t got time for your games,” he’d said.
Ronnie laughed at him then. Told him he wasn’t going to shoot him, put his gun away, and started acting like they were best friends or something. He said the gun was just to get him to own up to the fact the still was his. Ronnie said he never would hurt a friend. But his smile was too big, too fake. He’d seen enough marks on Emmie’s mom’s cheek to doubt his story about not hurting a friend.
“Let me help,” Ron had begged. Said he needed the money to support his family. Walter doubted that his intentions were that honorable. More than likely he just wanted the extra cash to buy more booze or invest it in some gambling scheme.
“Ronnie, I ain’t really in the business. I mean I just make a few quarts here and there for some friends. This ain’t how I make my living. You know I’m just a farmer,” Walt had explained.
“You make more than a few quarts, my friend. Remember I saw your still and your mash. That’s gonna make more than enough for your friends. And anyway, that’s why you need me. You know I’ve got connections. With the seclusion of my cave and your knowledge we can grow this into a real business,” he had promised.
When the old man had looked skeptical Ronnie pushed him further. “Walt you know you are going to be needin’ more money as that boy gets older. The brace you got on his leg barely fits him now. How long you think you can keep just making those things for him? He needs to see a real doctor. Sure you and Mae have done your best, but don’t you want more for him? Trust me, doctors aren’t cheap. I can help you. We can do this.” He stuck out his hand for a shake.
Walter had thought about it for a moment. He remembered it felt like he was making a deal with the devil but he’d agreed to give it a try anyway. So he shook his hand and bought into the promise that Ronnie had offered.
Surprisingly enough, Ronnie came through. Within weeks business picked up tenfold. They were selling jars even before they’d finished making them. Walter hadn’t ever heard of selling stuff before it was done, but Ronnie assured him this is the way business worked now.
One of the weirdest things about partnering was Ronnie would never tell Walt who all the jars was going to. Said the less Walter knew the better it was for him. But other than the secret customers, he was more honest than Walt expected him to be. Nearly always paying him on time, for the first two years anyway. Until he got into drinking more and more of the ’shine himself.
By the time Ronnie had died they were selling more jars of ’shine than ever, but he was barely breaking even. Something wasn’t right. Promises of cash that never arrived. Walt had confronted him about it once but had woken up a few hours later in the cave with a large gash to his head. Ronnie was mean when he was drinking. Walt had decided to just up and quit on him. Find some other place to work, there was plenty of little spring caves around the country he could use. He would just go back to making for his friends. But, he never got the chance to talk to Ronnie again. The next night he’d found him dead in the fields… in his truck. Walter never told anyone, but it didn’t look like a car accident to him, didn’t believe it was suicide either—Ronnie was too vain for that.
That night he’d been out checking on the mash. He’d heard the shot and had gone running as fast as his old legs could take him. It sounded like it was at the house and he knew that girl was in there. Coming down the backside of the hill he stumbled upon the car. He didn’t see anybody at first, just the outline of Ronnie’s lifeless face smashed up against the steering wheel. Turned out the sheriff and his boys were already there. They crept out of the trees. Sheriff Drake looked calm, greeted Walt like everything was just normal. Told Walt he was handling this investigation and he should just head back home. He didn’t know if they were the ones that killed him but something wasn’t right. Walt had been living around those hills too long to make the mistake of questioning what the sheriff and his boys had said. So, he played dumb the next morning when they’d found the car scorched beyond recognition. The sheriff had told Emmie Ronnie had a car accident. Walter guessed he was one of the only people to know Ronnie had not died in some fiery crash. He intended to keep that to himself until he met his maker.
Chapter Eig
ht
“It’s been two weeks, just let it go okay?” Emmie hated talking about this. Apparently Ava loved talking about it. Loved making Emmie feel stupid. Well, that probably wasn’t true but it was how she felt. Stupid.
“Emmie, it’s complicated, he’s complicated. Trust me,” she begged.
“Look, I’m fine with trusting you about Gabe. You’re right, he’s been good to you since you’ve been back. I’m trusting you there. No problem. Because that’s your life. This is mine. So you trust me. He’s a jackass,” Emmie spit.
Ava’s mouth flew open in mock horror. “Such language. My ears will bleed.”
“Your ears are fine. I don’t want to talk about him. He’s nothing to me.” Emmie pretended she didn’t care and continued stirring the sugar into the apples that were simmering on the stove.
“Okay, I’ll let it go,” Ava conceded.
Emmie sighed. Finally. Her friend had been talking about Silas for days.
“After I say this one last thing,” Ava added.
Emmie knew the promise of silence was too good to be true.
“I had Gabe talk to him,” she smiled sheepishly.
“You what?” Emmie shouted.
“Well, I couldn’t let him think it was okay just to kiss you then not call for a couple weeks. I mean for goodness sakes, Emmie, had you ever even let a boy kiss you before?” Ava continued. Emmie was too gobsmacked to answer.
“Gabe said that Silas said he just didn’t have time to get all wound up with some ‘good girl’ down here,” Ava smiled like that was the best news she’d ever shared.
“And you’re happy to relay that message to me because?” Emmie arched an eyebrow, thoroughly irritated.
“Because it means he likes you,” she testified, throwing her arms up in the air. Sometimes Ava really acted like she was about twelve years old. Emmie turned around and continued stirring the pot with more force than was necessary to break up some of the apples.
“Don’t you see? He just doesn’t think it’s worth the effort because he lives up there and is only here for a short while. But that doesn’t really matter does it, Emmie? We can show him he’s wrong. Marry him and we will be real cousins.” Ava laughed at her timeline.
“Well, maybe not quite that fast,” Ava corrected, “but it could happen. We can have fun trying anyway. Just come over for dinner tonight. The more you are around each other the better. I don’t like you avoiding the house anyway. Things are always better once they’re all out in the open.”
“Alright, I’ll come over, but just to be clear, it’s not for him. It’s just because you’re right. I’m tired of avoiding your house,” she clarified.
“Do you mind getting me a couple of jars out of the cupboard under the stairs?” she asked.
Ava moved around the corner toward the pantry. “Lord have mercy,” Ava shouted.
“What is it?” she called to her friend, only to receive no answer. She turned to see Ava emerge with a jar of moonshine in each hand.
Chapter Nine
“Oh.” Emmie looked taken aback for a moment.
“I really didn’t take you for such a drinker. Living a double life here, Emmie?” Ava teased. “Guess we found where Ronnie hid his stash. Last time we stumbled on it, a few years ago, it was just two jars in the barn. His habit must have picked up… A LOT.”
“How much was in there?” Emmie tried to remember the last time she’d dug around in that pantry. It had been months and there wasn’t any ’shine back then just stacks of old mason jars.
Ava didn’t answer her. She just sat the jars on the table and pulled her friend around the corner to peek into the small closet. Spotty’s toenails clicked on the wooden floor as he followed to see but quickly looked disinterested and went back to stalk the pot on the stove.
“Two, four, six, eight rows of ten. Good night, Emmie! You have eighty bottles of moonshine,” Ava said.
“Eighty-two counting those two on the table,” Emmie corrected.
“What are you going to do with them?” Ava picked up a bottle and eyed it suspiciously.
“I have no idea. Pour them out? I guess that’d be the right thing to do.” She took the other jar and put it back in the pantry, then went back over to give the apples a final stir.
Ava gave her a wicked grin. “Then why are you putting that ’shine back in the pantry?”
“I just don’t want mess around with it right now. I thought you wanted to head back to your house soon anyway?” She did her best to sidetrack her friend. She knew what she had to do with that ’shine but had no intention of telling Ava.
Pop!
She spun her head around from the stove to see her friend with a jar in one hand and the cap in the other. Ava took a big sniff and drew her head back with wide eyes.
“Just a sip to see what it tastes like, okay? Then we can pour the rest out. Promise.” Ava held the jar of ’shine over her heart like she was making a vow.
“Oh, alright.” One sip wasn’t going to hurt anyone. She got out a couple glasses and poured a tiny splash into each one. The girls clinked glasses and tipped their heads back.
Ava immediately sprayed hers back into the glass coughing like she had ingested some type of rat poison. Emmie forced hers down her throat. FIRE—it felt like fire. Burning all the way down to her gut.
“Oh my gosh,” she screeched, running to the sink to fill her glass with water. She drank the entire cup in an attempt to put out the burn. It sort of worked. When she finally caught her breath she turned to find Ava in fits of laughter.
“Your face…” That is all Ava could get out before another swell of laughter took her over.
“That stuff is disgusting. Why in the world people would spend their hard-earned money on that I have no idea,” Emmie laughed.
Ava picked up the jar to give it a closer inspection. Spotty barked and stood at attention, his ears cocked sideways. He ran to the front door before they ever heard the knock. All traces of humor left the room.
“Get rid of that. I’ll go see who it is,” Emmie told her friend.
***********
“Hey Miss Emmie.” Max waved before she got the door all the way open. Spotty bounced from foot to foot until Max reached down with his good hand to scratch behind his ear.
“Hello, Max, Walter,” she smiled at her neighbors. “Come on in.”
The three of them walked into the house and stepped into the kitchen.
“Sorry, Emmie, we didn’t realize you had company,” Walter said, tipping his hat and wiping his hands on his blue jean overalls.
“Oh, it’s fine I was just leaving. See you tonight, Emmie,” Ava said. She turned on her way out. “Oh, and I added that last ingredient to the applesauce.”
Last ingredient? Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Emmie thought.
“Max you look mighty handsome in that hat. You know, those are all the rage in Chicago this summer,” Ava added, touching his newsboy cap on her way out the door.
Max’s mouth split open with a grin from ear to ear. “Thanks Miss Ava.”
She waved like a movie star and headed out the door. Just as dramatic as ever.
“What can I do for ya?” Emmie said, making her way over to stir the applesauce-moonshine mixture. Mainly just to be sure it wasn’t emitting some odd smell. The good news, it wasn’t.
The apple and cinnamon seemed to cover it up well.
“Sure smells good in here Miss Emmie,” Max added licking his lips.
“Well that’s because I got some delicious apples from some young kid this morning. You stop by the store tomorrow and I’ll have some for you, if you’d like.”
The boy nodded his head excitedly.
“Tell her why we’re here, boy,” Walter prompted.
“Well, I have an offer for you.” Max said, looking nervously at his feet. “You said the other day you seen how good I am at my numbers. That’s because Mamaw Mae practices with me every night. She helps me with reading too but I’ve been hav
ing a harder time with it. School don’t start for another couple of weeks and I…” he paused looking up at her. “I want to be good at this Miss Emmie. I’m not so good at some other things but I am good at book smarts.”
That just about broke her heart. She hated for him to think about the things he wasn’t good at. Who cares if he had a limp or one hand that worked better than the other? Some of the kids were so hard on him for it.
Max went on, “I figured since you want to be a teacher, that working with me on my reading might be good practice for you too. I can bring you more of them apples if you want? Or Papaw said we could get you some extra ears of corn,” he pleaded but kept his chin held high.
“I thought you might be interested in hearing his business proposition.” Walter’s eyes smiled at the way the tables had turned.
Emmie answered, “Of course, Max. I would be honored to work with a smart, hard-working young man like you. How often were you thinking we should practice together?”
They settled on twice a week for an hour. Emmie was excited about it. Tutoring him really would be good practice for her, if she ever got to enroll in that new teacher’s college up on the hill.
“Walt, can I talk to you a second?” she asked.
She led him over to the small pantry and opened the door. He bent down and peeked his head in. When he came out his eyes were wide and he nodded but didn’t say a word.
“Think you can get rid of it?” she whispered.
He didn’t answer just shrugged like he wasn’t sure.
“Maybe we can talk about it?” she whispered, a little annoyed.
“Later,” he said, heading back into the kitchen.
She said bye to Walter and Max went into her room to get ready. She put on a dress Ava had given her that she said just didn’t fit right anymore. It hung just past her knees with a drop waist, and a beautiful Irish lace overlay. Sometimes Emmie was pretty sure Ava was lying about the clothes not fitting her anymore, it was just an excuse to keep her friend up to date in the latest fashion she had seen in Chicago. Fashion usually took a couple years to make its way down to Kentucky.
Shine On Page 4