Distiller's Choice (Bourbon Springs Book 4)

by Bramseth, Jennifer

  When he pulled into his parents’ driveway, Nina’s SUV was already there. Since she lived less than an hour away, he wasn’t surprised she’d arrived first, but Walker had hoped to beat her there so he could welcome her with the bouquet of flowers.

  “Hey there!” an exuberant Nina greeted Walker at the door. “Haven’t seen you in months, bro!”

  Nina Cain threw her arms around her brother’s neck and accepted his birthday offering of flowers. She was a lot like Hannah Davenport: a blond, confident attorney. Nearly eight years his junior, she was taller and thinner than his boss, with bobbed hair instead of Hannah’s long, flowing locks.

  “Job’s been keeping me away too much,” he said. “Although you were the one that couldn’t make it here for Mother’s Day,” he reminded her.

  Nina complained about a conference she’d been required to attend out of state that weekend and walked with her brother through the house and into the kitchen to find their mother.

  Evelyn Cain, a short, thin woman with white hair, greeted her son with quiet enthusiasm and happily accepted his bouquet of Japanese irises and red tulips.

  “So colorful! This will look lovely on the table.” She began to poke around in her kitchen cabinets for a vase for the flowers.

  After another short conversation with Nina about her boyfriend, Garner Robson, a wealthy, well-connected attorney who had hopes for an upcoming judicial appointment in Frankfort, Walker excused himself to go back to his car to retrieve a flask of Old Garnet he’d brought for his father. When he’d recently gone into the ricks and made his selection from the center cut, he’d gotten enough not only for himself and CiCi, but plenty to share with his father as well.

  Upon his return to the house, Walker found his father in the kitchen with his mother and sister.

  “Son!” his father erupted upon Walker’s reentry and held out his arms expectantly but not for a hug. “So where’s the good stuff you said you’d bring this time?”

  Jeb Cain was in his late seventies, thin, and slightly hunched by age. He had a full head of shockingly white hair and wore wire-framed glasses, giving him the appearance of an out-of-season, clean-shaven, slimmed-down Santa Claus.

  “Hello to you too, Dad,” Walker joked, handing his father the flask, which was identical to CiCi’s except Walker hadn’t had it engraved.

  “Is this that Garnet Center Cut you’ve been talking about?” he asked, smiling broadly, and the two men fell into a discussion of all things bourbon. Although Jeb Cain hadn’t worked in the bourbon industry, he was still a Kentuckian who knew more than a thing or two about the water of life and could hold his own in a conversation with his master distiller son.

  “Yes, and I’ve also got a few bottles of Old Garnet for you out in the car,” Walker said. “Just haven’t brought them all in yet.”

  “But you’re gonna spoil me on this stuff, boy,” Jeb declared and held out the flask. He moved into the kitchen and opened a cabinet door. “And should I get rid of all this other stuff now that you’re at Old Garnet?” he asked and stood aside to reveal a cabinet stocked with wonderful bourbons.

  “No, but if you do get rid of them, give them to me.”

  “Better not let your employer hear you talk like that,” Jeb teased. He pulled a highball glass from a shelf over the bourbon bottles, closed the cabinet door, and unscrewed the lid on the flask. He almost poured some of the contents of the flask into the glass but hesitated and put the cap back on. “Maybe I ought to save it,” he reasoned. “Can’t get this every day, right?”

  “You can if your son’s the master distiller,” Walker said.

  Jeb looked at the flask, shook his head, and reopened the cabinet door. He tucked the flask into a narrow opening on the left of the shelf and closed the door. “Bring in those bottles of Old Garnet. We’ll crack one of those open instead.”

  “Dad, go on and drink that Garnet Center Cut.” He realized he was having the same conversation about the bourbon that he’d had with CiCi.

  “Naw, I’ll save it for a special occasion.”

  “Isn’t this special enough?”

  Jeb apparently thought his son was joking and laughed off the question.

  But Walker wasn’t joking even though he’d tried to keep his tone light. He knew that to further challenge his father would be pointless and that he could not persuade him as he had CiCi. It saddened him that his father couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the gift he’d brought, especially since it was so exceptional. He continued to puzzle over the reaction and compare it to CiCi’s response to the same gift. Was it born of the same thing—fear of loss? He had realized that she hadn’t wanted to drink the bourbon because it was like preserving something perfect: her moment with him at the creek and her hopes for the future.

  But his father? He chose not to drink—why?

  Walker had already answered the question. The moment wasn’t right. It wasn’t special enough. It could be better. Put it back and save it for good, as his mother was apt to say when she’d bought a nice piece of clothing. Something which hung on the hanger and subsequently rarely if ever got worn.

  And so all the opportunities and chances to make a special memory and enjoy something—a glass of bourbon, a nice sweater or blouse—were gone, delayed.

  Because one sat around waiting for perfection instead of choosing to live your life in the moment. Deny yourself the experience rather than risk the disappointment of it not meeting your expectations.

  What a fearful way to go through life.

  Walker did as requested and returned from his car with two bottles of Old Garnet. His father immediately opened one, got some ice, and started sipping it on the rocks. Evelyn then put her children to work in short order in the kitchen, directing them to help with meal preparation.

  “I know it’s a little hot today, but we’ll be eating outside,” she said, and pointed to the back deck.

  When the siblings were sent outside by Evelyn with dishes, napkins, and silverware to set the table, Walker took the opportunity to tell Nina about CiCi.

  “I can’t believe you finally got a girlfriend!” she giggled.

  “Keep it down. I want to be the one to tell them,” Walker cautioned, nodding his head in the direction of the house as he put down a stack of plates.

  “I thought you were just gonna go off and be a monk for the rest of your life after Jana.”

  “That’s mean.”

  “It’s true! I’ve been worried about you. I’m glad you’ve met someone special.”

  “She is special,” he concurred and smiled as he arranged the silverware on the table.

  “So how long have you been going out?”

  “I’ve known her for over six months, but we’ve only been going out about six weeks or so.”

  “And you’re already saying she’s special? I gotta meet this woman.”

  “Yes, you do,” he agreed. “But I have something else I need to tell you about.” He dropped the news about working again with Jana.

  “Well, that’s… different,” Nina said. “At least CiCi doesn’t work there with you.”

  “But it’s a small town and we all see each other plenty,” Walker admitted and told her about jury duty and the BourbonDaze festival. “So many opportunities to see each other. Too many. Anyway, I’m moving next week,” Walker revealed, continuing with his stream of mostly happy revelations. “Bought a house in downtown Bourbon Springs, and I was wondering…” He trailed off and looked expectantly at Nina.

  “I’ll help on one condition.” Nina opened the lid of the grill on the other end of the deck. “If your new woman will be there, I’m there. Gotta make sure she’s good enough for my big bro.”

  “I think you two will get along just fine,” Walker said. “Maybe we could go by the distillery while you’re in town and if there’s enough time. I’d love to introduce you to Bo and Hannah—she’s an attorney too. I’ll give you a tour, but it will have to be after hours. The holiday weekend is expected to be bu
sy.”

  “If you still have enough energy, I guess I won’t be able to refuse a personal tour by the master distiller,” she said with a smile but then turned serious. “What about Mom and Dad?” Nina asked in a hushed voice, glancing at the house.

  “I don’t expect Dad to go to Bourbon Springs, considering the hot weather and his bad knee,” Walker thought out loud. But I’ll ask Mom if she wants to come down and see the house and meet CiCi.”

  “Meet who?” his mother demanded and stepped onto the patio holding a platter of raw hamburgers that were ready to be thrown on the grill.

  “I’m moving on Saturday, and Nina’s coming down to help. Would you like to come see the house at that time? And maybe a distillery tour afterward?”

  “Sounds wonderful.” Evelyn placed the platter on a table next to the grill then turned to her son. “But just who might I meet on Saturday? Who’s this CiCi?”

  “Her name is Catherine Charlotte Summers—CiCi for short,” Walker said in a clear, strong voice. “She’s the Craig Circuit Court Clerk, and we’ve been—”

  “You didn’t tell me she was the clerk!” Nina interjected.

  “Oh, thought I mentioned it when I told you about being on jury duty with—”

  Walker caught himself before he mentioned his ex-wife’s name thanks to the wide-eyed look of alarm his sister gave him.

  “And you’ve been dating how long?” Nina asked, trying to help him recover from his near gaffe.

  “About two months,” Walker said, deliberately phrasing the relationship in terms of months rather than weeks. It somehow made his relationship with CiCi sound more long-term, which is what he wanted to have with her.

  His mother said nothing and looked at him impassively. “Well, I should be glad to meet her,” she said a little stiffly. “I take it your father doesn’t know about this?”

  “Know what?” his father asked, emerging from the house.

  “That I’m seeing someone,” Walker said before the tension could rise any further. “And I was about to tell Mom something else, so it’s good you came out here.”

  His father looked mildly displeased at Walker’s news and opened his mouth to say something. But one look from Evelyn silenced whatever question or insult he was about to hurl at his son.

  “And it also happens that Jana is now working at the distillery,” Walker said quickly. “She’s the new heritage director, which means she handles the tours and the gift shop as well as other duties related to the history of the property.”

  Walker’s parents’ faces were visions of shock at this news.

  But then his father smiled and pointed at him. “You helped Jana get that job, didn’t you?”

  Walker shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Word got out what Old Garnet was looking for, and she applied. Bo and Hannah thought she was perfect and hired her. End of story.”

  “You expect us to believe that?” his father asked.

  “Yes, I do, Dad,” Walker said hotly. “She was qualified and got that job on her own. I had nothing to do with her hiring.”

  “But now you’re dating some new woman? Is that what you said?”

  Walker confirmed what he’d said upon his father’s arrival on the deck and gave him the same basic information about CiCi he’d previously given his mother and sister.

  His mother turned her back to the group to start putting the burgers on the grill “Well, you certainly have a complicated situation on your hands, Walker.” It was just bland enough to make Walker wonder whether she was stating the obvious or whether there was a hint of disapproval.

  But there was no guessing when it came to his father’s position on the subject.

  “Easy enough to uncomplicate it,” Jeb said, looking directly at his son. “Walker, I don’t know what else it takes to get you to see that your wife wants you back.”

  “She’s not my wife.”

  “Again, easy enough to remedy.”

  “It’s not some problem to solve,” Walker said. “We’re divorced. It’s over. I’ve moved on, and I’ve found someone really, really nice. Why can’t you accept that I—”

  “You left your woman, that’s why!” Jeb exploded. “She went back to you, tried to make things right and—”

  “Dad, you don’t know what happened!”

  “Because you won’t say!” Jeb cried and pointed a finger at his son’s chest.

  “And it’s none of your damned business!” Evelyn yelled at Jeb.

  It was the very thing Walker was about to shout at his father, but his mother had beaten him to it.

  Jeb, Walker, and Nina all stared openmouthed at Evelyn, who was red in the face and clenching her teeth as she glared at her husband.

  “Evelyn, don’t you—”

  “No, I’m tired of this crap,” she spat back at him and got in his face. “Stay out of your son’s personal life, Jeb. He doesn’t owe anyone an explanation. I hate it that he got divorced. I hate it that he had to go through whatever he went through. But badgering and shaming him isn’t going to change a damn thing! You think that’s gonna help him? Make him get back together with Jana?”

  “He’s working with her now! How is this not supposed to happen? It’s like he’s got another chance to fix it, and he doesn’t care—he’s going after some other woman instead!”

  “Fix?” Walker asked and moved closer to his father. “Fix what? My life? My heart? I tried to fix my marriage. It didn’t work. That doesn’t make me a failure, and guess what—some things can’t be fixed.”

  “You gave up, Walker,” his father accused him. “You gave up on her. You broke her heart.”

  “Not before she broke mine first,” Walker said, turning away and walking toward the house. “I’m sorry, Mom, Nina,” he said, glancing at them, “but I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later about moving day.”

  Walker dashed into the house, closely followed by his sister, who was exhorting him to stay, leaving his parents on the deck.

  Chapter 22

  “How was the family?” CiCi asked, sensing her call had roused Walker from a post-trip siesta.

  “Fine,” he said, but his tone betrayed a groggy irritability. “What time is it?”

  “Almost six,” she told him. “And I have good news. Just like you, I took a nap. A long one.”

  “Can I come over?” he asked, sounding much more alert.

  “Only if you bring me some dinner along with yourself,” she said.

  Half an hour later, Walker and CiCi were in her sitting room at the back of her house, relaxing on her couch and opening the bags of food he’d brought from Over a Barrel.

  “Didn’t realize they closed early today,” he said as he pulled sandwiches from a bag and put them on the sturdy oak coffee table in front of the couch. “Got there just as they were closing the doors, but they let me in because they recognized me.”

  “They recognized you? Really?”

  “Yeah, I guess folks around here finally know the face of the local master distiller.”

  CiCi kissed him on the cheek. “I certainly know that face.”

  He gave her a look filled with warning. “Don’t be doing that.”

  “Why?” she asked and put her hand into one of the bags.

  “Because this could happen.” He pulled her to him and into an intense kiss, causing her to drop the still-wrapped sandwich she’d just pulled from the bag onto the floor.

  Walker leaned her back onto the couch as CiCi’s arms encircled his neck. They hadn’t been together like this—truly alone—for days. His lips traveled to her neck, and CiCi was soon sighing under the spell of his kisses and caresses.

  “I’ve missed you too,” she said and chuckled. “But I’m not gonna let this food go to waste. I’m hungry.” She sat up, causing him to do the same. “I’m still tired and trying to get my strength back, you know.”

  “Then eat up.” He picked up the sandwich she had dropped on the floor and put it in her lap. “I want you to regain all your stamina. Bec
ause you’re gonna need it tonight, Catherine.”

  She shivered and didn’t dare look at him. “I love it when you call me Catherine,” CiCi said as she unwrapped her sandwich. If they were going to get through the meal without ripping each other’s clothes off and going at it like rabbits, CiCi thought they might have to resort to sitting on opposite sides of the couch.

  Or room.

  Or house.

  Or county.

  He leaned over and put his lips to her ear.

  “I can tell,” he said roughly.

  She dropped the sandwich in her lap, grabbed Walker’s face, and kissed him. He pulled away.

  “Eat,” he ordered and pointed at her food. “You’re gonna need your energy.”

  CiCi let out a long, frustrated groan.

  “Now you’re going to tease me?” she asked and started to eat. It was chicken salad, which surprised her. Over a Barrel was famous for its chicken salad, but they usually only had it on weekdays and ran out quickly. Rachel loved the stuff. CiCi idly wondered how many trips to Over a Barrel Brady might be making for his pregnant wife in the upcoming months to help satisfy a craving.

  “Yes, I am. It’s fun.”

  CiCi pretended to be angry with him but had trouble suppressing her smile. “I’m gonna wipe that smug grin off your face, Walker Cain.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Be careful what you wish for.”

  Her revenge was to eat slowly.

  Very slowly.

  He had finished his sandwich and was into his second bourbon ball before she’d finished half her sandwich. By the time he’d polished off his dessert and drink, she had his full attention as she unhurriedly consumed her food. Walker couldn’t do a damn thing to make her speed up, and CiCi forced him to watch while she chewed and licked her lips over her meal.

  And while she sucked on several pieces of ice she scooped out of her fountain drink.

  And while she ate two large bourbon balls.

  “I do so love these things,” she purred, sitting on the end of the couch opposite Walker.

  She took the first round, plump candy and popped off the large pecan from the top. CiCi put the inch-long nut into her mouth, slipped it between her lips, and sucked on it for a while before turning it over and over in her mouth, displaying it perched between her teeth, finally chewing and swallowing. With the second bourbon ball, after she’d put the pecan in her mouth, she pushed it out between her lips to let Walker see the tip before sucking it back inside and eating it.