And if she didn’t wear it?
He would seriously consider leaving Old Garnet.
Walker loved his job, and the Davenports were now like family. But without CiCi, work meant nothing to him. He couldn’t imagine staying in Bourbon Springs without her in his life and living in the ruins of what once was a happy, hopeful situation. It no longer felt like home.
Goose and Bo were coming along on the creekside trek. Bo had some knowledge about where the alleged proposal sites were, lore and stories passed down from his father. Hannah and Kyle would not be with them as they were on a short beach vacation, a much-deserved break after a long, busy summer for them both.
And Goose was coming along because he was the new heritage director. Jana had quit.
After living with Hannah and Kyle for about a week, Jana had moved out and gone back to her own place. But she had never returned to Old Garnet, and Walker hadn’t seen her in weeks. Hannah said that Jana had told her that she was moving to Louisville and was going to get a job there. She couldn’t work at Old Garnet any longer, she had said, although Jana hadn’t provided any reasons for her sudden departure.
Walker admittedly felt a sense of relief that his ex was finally out of his life. Now he had to get CiCi back into it.
But when he saw her early that Saturday morning at the visitors’ center, CiCi wasn’t wearing garnet.
Over her khaki hiking shorts, CiCi was wearing a baggy, oversized gray T-shirt with the University of Kentucky Wildcats logo on it. Not a scrap of red on the thing. Even her small backpack was blue.
He felt sick to his stomach and seriously contemplated begging off. But he didn’t want to look like a wimp, and the weather was fine, so he didn’t have any excuse to abandon the group except to say I don’t wanna. He’d dressed for the occasion in hiking boots, shorts, and the ubiquitous Old Garnet polo shirt. He was up to owning three now. If he left the distillery, he knew he’d get rid of them at once. Too many memories.
Despite his best efforts, he kept looking at CiCi, his eyes drawn to her form, her face, and those crazy curls on top of her head. Not surprisingly, she looked a lot better than the last time he’d seen her. Her color was wonderful, and she didn’t seem tired. Did that mean she was over him? And was she shooting him glances, or was that his hopeful and irrational imagination?
The group had chosen to meet at eight, before the tours began, and since the weather was more temperate, the conditions were nearly perfect for a walk along the creek. Lila and Goose led the way, each holding a map and trying to precisely mark the rumored proposal spots. After conversations with Bo, they had expanded the list of sites to five instead of the suspected three or four.
Bo and CiCi walked behind Goose and Lila with Bo pointing to various spots and CiCi taking notes. Walker brought up the rear, and his designated job was to take pictures, which he did with minimal comment and interaction with anyone.
The last site they reached was the waterfall.
“Dad always said that this was the spot,” Bo declared as he stood on the bank overlooking the falls. “Can’t remember why he insisted this was it, but he said it was.”
Lila joined Bo, and she slipped her arm around her fiancé’s waist. She talked about how several sources she’d seen tended to indicate that this was indeed The Spot, but it was still hard to determine. “It’s still such a wonderful story,” she said and put her head against Bo’s chest. “I think I love it even more because it is a myth, that we don’t know what the truth really is.”
“Why’s that?” CiCi asked.
“Because we get to make up our own story,” Lila said. “And that’s fun.”
“Walker, can you get some pictures?” Goose asked. He was carrying a handheld GPS and taking measurements.
Walker moved to the bank and took a number of shots as CiCi held back and seemed content to watch the group. After he had finished, Walker stood and gazed at the waterfall and the pool. Even though he was sure the others could see his melancholy, he knew CiCi was the only one who could fathom its depths.
“Well, let’s get back,” Lila declared. She turned around to look at the rest of the gang.
“I… um… need to go,” CiCi declared, pointing to a thickly wooded spot at the edge of the clearing. “Now,” she said, exchanging a knowing look with Lila.
“Go on,” Lila said exasperatedly and pointed to the trees.
CiCi moved into the woods and out of sight.
“Walker, stay here and wait for her,” Lila said once CiCi was gone. “The rest of us need to get back to the Old House because a bourbon expert is coming today to appraise that Booker’s Baby you found.”
“But—”
“She won’t bite, you know,” Lila said, frowning. “Just make sure she comes out of the woods, okay? Can you please handle that?”
The others left, heading south along the same path they had taken to the clearing.
Walker sensed a setup—but for what?
He walked around the clearing, full of energy and his mind buzzing with what to say to her, what to ask her when he had her alone.
Is it over?
Is that why you didn’t wear garnet?
Or would she talk to him at all? CiCi hadn’t said a thing to him on the entire hike—not that he’d tried to engage her in conversation, either.
But he knew he had to take advantage of this opportunity, contrived or not. And he suspected Lila’s hand in how they’d been left alone. Just like that day in the spring when Lila had gone on her picnic and left him alone, at his polite request, with the charming Ms. Summers. Strange how things had come full circle, it seemed.
Yet what he was going to say to CiCi once she emerged from those woods was still beyond his grasp as he heard a rustling noise from behind.
Walker spun around to face her, hoping she’d at least be willing to talk, and maybe even be wearing a smile.
She wasn’t wearing a smile.
In fact, she wasn’t wearing the clothes she’d had on when she entered the woods.
CiCi slowly picked her way through the underbrush, dodging a few low-hanging limbs and watching where she trod. She missed several branches but one scraped her bare shoulder, causing her to flinch and momentarily arrest her progress toward Walker as she grabbed the branch and moved it out of the way.
A sharp twig had drawn blood, and Walker could see the red line bloom across her pale skin.
A blood-red line—the color of a garnet.
The same color as the shimmering, plunging satin gown she was wearing.
CiCi hitched it up a little as she left the woods, keeping the hem from catching and snagging on the twigs, leaves, and rocks underfoot. But once she reached the grassy flat area of the clearing, she released the gown from her grasp and allowed it to fall around her in a liquid flash of deepest crimson.
Walker gently dropped the camera to the ground and approached her.
There was a thin gloss of perspiration across her face, but that only brightened her look. The tops and a good portion of the sides of her breasts were revealed by the gown, and her nipples were pert and taut underneath the fabric.
CiCi held out her hand to him, and he took it.
“Sorry for making you wait,” she said, and he took both of her hands in his. “But I thought you’d like this answer. In this place. In this color.”
She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His own jewel, his own treasure, a glittering garnet in the woods.
And she had forgiven him.
He pulled her hands to his chest and looked down at her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said, tears shining in her eyes.
He kissed her and felt her against him for the first time in weeks. Had the last time he had held her like this been on her couch? He realized with a shock that when they’d made love that last time, that could have been when she’d conceived.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a rough voice.
“I am too.”
&nb
sp; “So—now what?” he asked as he drank in the sight of her in that luscious gown. The only thing she had under it had to be those clunky boots.
He felt giddy, light-headed, and completely ecstatic.
He was in love, and he knew that she loved him.
“Are you suggesting a dip in the creek?” Her eyes darted to the water and back to him. “I don’t think so. It’s broad daylight.”
“Not what I had in mind.” He held her out at arm’s length. “I love you, Catherine Charlotte Summers,” Walker said in a decided yet happy voice.
“And I love you,” she whispered, happily confused at his formality.
He dropped to one knee.
“Marry me.”
“Walker… I didn’t… I mean… I thought—”
“I know,” he said. “I asked you to wear garnet to tell me you’d forgiven me, and you did. I’m not assuming that by wearing that gown you were giving me an answer to a proposal I hadn’t made. But now I am making it. I have to propose, here, now, at this special spot, with you in that gown. Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
In the next second, Walker was on his feet, kissing and holding her.
He’d been right—she had nothing on underneath. Damn, what a temptation! His hands slid over the flowing fabric, and all he wanted to do was get his hands on her bare body. But the gown was so long that he couldn’t easily pull it up—and it was for the better, considering where they were.
How soon could they get out of there and to one of their houses? Where the hell was her backpack? He’d probably have to turn his head as she got dressed he was already so aroused.
Impatient, he broke the kiss and urged their immediate departure. She directed him to the spot in the woods where she’d left the backpack (she didn’t want to go back into the woods wearing the gown). She slipped into her clothes as quickly as possible while Walker went to the bank of the creek and enjoyed watching and listening to the falls. CiCi soon joined him and took his hand before they started back on the trail toward the distillery and the visitors’ center.
“Did Lila know what you were up to?” Walker asked.
“Not really. I only said I wanted to be alone with you. That was it.”
“They’re gonna ask what happened back there, you know,” he said, nodding over his shoulder toward the waterfall and the clearing they had just left. “Especially after we tell them we’re engaged.”
CiCi gave a little squee when Walker said engaged.
“I think we’ll have to tell them. Didn’t we just rewrite Old Garnet history? We know for a fact that there’s been a proposal back at the waterfall—and that it was accepted.”
“I don’t mind telling them we’re engaged, but I don’t know if I ever want to tell anyone exactly when, where, and how you agreed to marry me. That’s much too special to share, CiCi.”
She stopped, put her hands on his cheeks, and kissed him. “You’re right. Our special secret. Besides, we don’t want to burst Lila’s bubble, do we?”
“What’s that mean?”
“Well, she said she’d rather not know the truth. That making up the story is the fun part,” CiCi said, and they started to walk again.
“She’s right,” he said, squeezing her hand, “and we’ve got the rest of our lives to choose how we make up the rest of our story.”
Epilogue
Not him.
Not again.
Harriet took the call from Hannah and pretended to be perfectly cheerful and happy with the news that Goose Davenport had been named the new heritage director for Old Garnet.
And Hannah had a task for her.
“I need you to work with Goose on our application to be declared a National Historic Landmark,” she said.
Goose was nice. Easy on the eyes. Very easy, in fact, as well as most agreeable to other parts of her anatomy. Harriet had discovered that fact a long time ago, although that wasn’t something she had ever shared with anyone. And she was continually surprised and grateful that Goose had kept his mouth shut on precisely how she knew that.
“With him? But how?”
“Well, Goose knows a lot about Old Garnet. That’s why he’s got Jana’s old job. In fact, I had no clue how much he knew until he started filling in for her. Learned so much history from his grandfather. That’s why you’ll be working with him,” Hannah said.
“Very well.”
“I want you to come over this week and meet with us to go over where we are and what we need to do next. Besides, I need to talk to you about some of the planning for Rachel’s baby shower as well as Lila’s bridal shower. We can eat out on the porch overlooking the creek. It’s still so warm in early October. It’ll be great.”
No avoiding those Davenports, Harriet realized. They were clients and friends, and they all lived in a small town together.
But what exactly was Goose?
Not exactly a professional colleague, that was for damn sure, but that was how she was going to have to play it. She was a professional, had to act like one. They’d both maintained that image for the past five years: a nod to each other in the courthouse halls, sharing a table at Over a Barrel during a busy lunchtime, laughing together at one of CiCi’s jokes in the clerk’s office, dropping off documents at the sheriff’s office and exchanging hellos. Harriet didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when she realized that she’d seen Goose more in the past few months than her own fiancé.
But just the two of them working together on a project?
How was she supposed to work with the man as though nothing had happened? How was she supposed to forget?
Harriet’s heart knew the answer.
She couldn’t forget. She didn’t want to.
Pie time!
It was late Friday afternoon and CiCi was walking home from the courthouse, feeling silly and happy.
Walker was coming over with dinner, planning on stopping at The Windmill on his way back from work. Her only request was that he bring bourbon pecan pie, should they have it.
They did.
In fact, he brought an entire pie.
“Well, that’ll last about a day around here,” she cracked as he placed the pie on the kitchen counter.
Walker was selling his house and moving in with her in anticipation of getting married. He was in a transition state, living some at his own house but spending a lot of time—and a considerable number of nights—at CiCi’s home. As a result, they ate together almost every night. They had even started going to the grocery store together.
It was nice, she thought. Content. Sweet. Settled.
And the sex was so fucking hot.
CiCi was looking forward to ending another evening in bed with Walker, but her immediate concern, past the surprisingly good Swiss cheese and roast beef sandwich Walker had procured for her enjoyment, was the pie.
She hastily consumed the sandwich (she’d had only a packet of cheese crackers for lunch) and was soon ready for dessert.
“Let me get it,” Walker offered and began to clear away the trash from their meal. They were eating outside on her back porch. The early fall evening was warm, and the setting sun filled the sky with a luscious, glowing orange-and-pink mixture.
“If you insist.” She picked up her glass of bourbon, swirled the contents and took a sip. “Just don’t skimp on the slice. Give me a good chunk.”
Walker promised she would be pleased, retreated indoors for a few minutes, and soon returned with slices of the pie for both of them.
“I think you’ll say I didn’t skimp,” Walker said as he put the piece of pie in front of her along with a fork and napkin.
Upon first glance, it seemed to be an average-sized slice of pie, not generously indulgent. CiCi picked up her fork and was about to plunge it into the treat when she saw a flash of light.
She dropped her fork.
Nestled amongst the large pecans on the top of the pie was a princess-cut diamond solitaire ring. The band was channel-set with small round garne
ts.
CiCi covered her mouth with both hands and stared at the little treasure, then looked up at Walker in a state of complete surprise and joy.
“I take it you like it?” he asked and laughed.
She nodded mutely, removed her hands from her face, and gently tugged the ring from its position; it was partially covered in the gooey sweetness of the pie.
Walker reached for the napkins. “Here, let me wipe it off.” He held out his hand for the ring.
“No way!”
She took the ring and put it in her mouth, carefully licking it clean with her tongue and enjoying watching Walker watch her as she did so.
“You’re wicked, you know that?”
“You put the ring in the pie! What did you expect?”
“Give it here,” he said after she’d removed the goo from the ring.
She did so, knowing he wanted the honor of putting the ring on her finger. Walker slipped it on, a perfect fit.
He bent to kiss her, and then she held out her hand to admire her new acquisition.
“How’d you get the size?”
“Took one of yours from your jewelry box,” he admitted.
“I didn’t even notice.”
“It’s easy now that I’m around so much.” He took his seat next to her as CiCi considered her slice of pie. “Something wrong?” he asked. “That is your favorite dessert, right?”
Wordlessly, CiCi grabbed her pie plate, rose from the table, and reentered the house. Walker followed with his own plate, eating as he walked. CiCi put her untouched (except for the ring) piece of pie on the coffee table.
“I want something else for dessert,” she declared.
Walker had just stuffed a bite into his—well, pie hole—when CiCi licked her lips, signaling her desire.
Seeing recognition of her intentions flash across his face, CiCi laughed and ran deeper into the house and up the stairs. Quickly swallowing his bite, Walker dumped his plate and fork on the table and ran after her, eager to taste on his fiancée’s lips the tiny bit of pie she’d savored from her engagement ring.
THE END
Hey there! Thanks for reading my book. I am honored that you read it and certainly hope you enjoyed it! I had a great time writing it, as I did the whole Bourbon Springs Series.
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