Bourbon Springs Box Set: Volume II, Books 4-6 (Bourbon Springs Box Sets Book 2)

by Jennifer Bramseth

  “Morning,” Goose said with a nod to Walker over his coffee. “Have a good weekend?”

  “Yep,” Walker said, smiling.

  “Your good weekend have anything to do with the Craig Circuit Court Clerk?” Goose asked, his eyes on the newspaper.

  “Maybe.” Walker kept his back to Goose as he poured some coffee for himself.

  “You two are always at The Windmill.”

  Goose Davenport was a dark-haired, stocky, and ruddy-faced man. A former cop, he had a brusque quality to him, but Walker liked him because he was hardworking, dependable, and brave. During the rickhouse fire last winter, Goose was the man on-site who had raised the alarm and probably saved other rickhouses from catching fire and exploding by calling for help so quickly. Walker admired and respected him even if he didn’t like the teasing.

  “Apparently everyone knows that.”

  “Take a woman to The Windmill every weekend for… how long now? A month?”

  “Just a few weeks. And I don’t take her. She pays her way.”

  “You drive her there,” Goose corrected.

  “Damn, you know everything, don’t you?”

  “Not everything,” Goose grinned and folded his newspaper, placing it on the table. “Unless you tell.”

  “Nothing to tell,” Walker replied and took a seat with his coffee and a bagel. “And why all the talk about me? What were you up to this weekend?”

  “Fixing the fence out at my mom’s place. That was the extent of excitement in my life.”

  Walker eyed him with disbelief, but Goose said nothing, leaving Walker to believe the story. Goose seemed like the kind of guy who would brag if he had some sexual escapade to talk about. Hannah had let it slip that Goose had a wild-child past.

  Hannah and Bo arrived a little late to the meeting. For Hannah, this wasn’t anything unusual. She was usually a few minutes tardy to anything, since she was more laid-back than her brother. But for Bo to be late was unusual. Well, Walker had to admit, it wasn’t as unusual as it used to be. Bo had become almost as relaxed as his sister since he’d fallen in love and gotten engaged to Lila McNee. Where Bo had been grumpy, sharp, and a little narrow-minded, he was just plain happy now, and not much seemed to bother him. Walker was pleased to see how that whole situation had worked itself out—best for the business and best for the two people involved. It was nice to see happy endings, especially when you hadn’t had one of your own.

  “Okay, let’s get this done,” Hannah said as she settled into a chair around the small round table and put her back to the windows overlooking the creek. “I hate meetings.”

  Bo nodded and looked from his sister to the other meeting attendees. “We wanted to talk with you about a decision we’re in the process of making about how to deal with Mom’s passing. We thought we’d be able to handle the personnel loss by hiring a few more tour guides and part-time people to work in the gift shop, but with the increase in tourism these first few weeks of the season, it’s become painfully clear that we’re going to have to create a new position.”

  “What will you call it?” Walker asked and took a bite of his bagel.

  “Not sure, but we’re leaning toward something like heritage manager,” Hannah said.

  “Like it,” Walker said.

  “Sounds classy,” agreed Goose.

  “What about Lila?” Walker suggested. “Wouldn’t she be perfect for it?”

  Bo shook his head. “We’ve already tried to talk her into it, and she emphatically said no. She wants to keep teaching, although she said she’d help in any way when it came to interviewing people or reviewing résumés.”

  “I put the word out among my industry contacts this past week that we’re looking for someone. We’ve already gotten a few résumés in,” Hannah said, passing them to Bo.

  “Already have five and we haven’t even advertised,” Bo said, looking pleased.

  “Or have a job description,” Goose pointed out.

  “True. We need to get the specifics nailed down,” Hannah acknowledged.

  “Do these people really have any potential?” Walker asked, pointing to the papers Bo held.

  “Yes,” Hannah said. “One or two of them, definitely.”

  Bo passed the résumés first to Goose, who briefly glanced at them. “Not like I’d know anyone here.” He handed the pages to Walker.

  “I should hope not since you’re an ex-cop,” Walker laughed, flipping through the sheets.

  There was nothing remarkable—until he came to the final résumé.

  “Jana Pogue,” he said aloud and peered at the paper in his hands.

  “You know her?” Hannah asked excitedly. “She looks pretty good on paper. Worked at Barton’s in Bardstown, did PR for them. And some time at Four Roses doing similar work, including event planning and coordination. She’s at Wilderness Trace down in Danville now.”

  “Yeah, I know her.” Walker dropped the résumé, his lips pressed together tightly.

  “How? Did you work with her at Barton’s or Four Roses when you were there?”

  “Yep, worked with her at both distilleries.” He shoved the papers across the table to Hannah. “But I was also married to her for about five years.”

  “Oh,” Hannah said, her eyes becoming wide. She picked up Jana’s resume, tucked some of her blond hair behind an ear, and studied the document further.

  “Look, if you’re not good with the idea of her working here, we can throw out the résumé right now, Walker,” Bo said, picking up his coffee. “Completely understandable.”

  “Lord, I couldn’t imagine working with Josh,” Hannah said, and a disgusted look passed over her face as she referenced her unfaithful ex-husband. “Fate worse than death.”

  “If she’s what this place needs, I have no problem with her working here,” Walker said. “And it’s not like we’d be working in the same office or anything.”

  “But you’d be seeing her from time to time,” Goose pointed out, “like at a meeting such as this one.”

  Walker shrugged. “So? I’m a big boy. She’s a big girl. And the divorce was a few years back. We’ve moved on.”

  Bo frowned at Walker. “Amicable divorce?”

  “As much as it could be,” Walker said. “We broke up a few times before we ended it. Figured out we weren’t meant to be married to each other. No other party, nothing like that. Just didn’t work out.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you right now she could be exactly what we’re looking for,” Hannah said. “We might advertise, but she does seem to be a good fit for us.”

  After a little more conversation about problems involving tourists in the distillery getting lost, the meeting broke up and Walker and Goose headed for the door, leaving Hannah and Bo to finish their breakfasts.

  “Oh, wait,” Goose said when he reached the door. “Need to talk to you two about a problem.”

  “Need me to stay?” Walker asked.

  “Not unless you have a magic solution for how to get rid of a massive mole infestation out near Rickhouse Nine.” Goose chuckled.

  “Can’t help you there,” Walker said and disappeared through the door.

  Goose closed the door behind Walker and waited a few seconds, listening for Walker’s retreating footsteps.

  “Okay, folks,” Goose said, and he placed his coffee back down on the table but didn’t retake his seat. “He’s full of shit.” Goose pointed over his shoulder at the door through which Walker had just departed.

  “Excuse me?” Hannah said.

  “That crap about being okay if his ex-wife came to work here… total bullshit, y’all.”

  “How do you know?” Bo asked and stood to get himself some more coffee.

  “I was sitting right next to the guy when he saw that résumé of what’s-her-name… Jana? Got stiff as a board. Totally uptight. He is not good with it, I’m telling you right now. I’m former law enforcement, and I have a decent grasp of body language.”

  “And what was he saying?” Han
nah asked.

  “Well, a rough translation would be fuck no, in my semilearned opinion.”

  “It might not matter since it’s still early days on this. We might find ten or twenty more qualified people,” Bo said after refilling his coffee cup.

  “I hope so. Because if you do end up hiring her, I hope she’s damn near perfect.”

  “That’s a bit dramatic,” Hannah claimed.

  Goose retrieved his coffee cup from the surface of the table. “Write it down. It will not work out,” he declared and left the room.

  4

  No way.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  How could she work here? With me?

  I feel like I’m finally free of her and now this?

  Walker retreated to his office in the distillery with his cup of coffee to sulk after getting the news about the possibility—he hoped it was remote—of his ex-wife coming to work at Old Garnet.

  He paced in the small space, and for once he wished he had a bigger office rather than a one-windowed room in the back of the distillery’s second floor. The indoor temperature was reaching unreasonable heights; there were two or three tubs full of fermenting mash, and they were steam cleaning two tubs. He was hot and bothered in both the mental and physical sense.

  Time to go outside.

  Time to call CiCi.

  Time to go to… what had she called it? His happy place?

  Fleeing his sauna-like office, Walker flew down the back stairs to the ground level and behind the building. Making sure to keep the door cracked open with a chunk of limestone that had fallen off the side of the structure, Walker exited and found the old half barrel to his left next to an overgrown honeysuckle bush. Walker brushed some leaves and debris from the top of the old barrel, pulled up the legs of his khakis, and took a seat with his cell phone in one hand.

  He’d never called CiCi simply to chat. Their calls had been entirely functional and necessary, such as when and how to meet for their Windmill outings. But it was time for that to change.

  “Walker?” CiCi answered.

  “Hi,” he said, putting a hand over his eyes. “I just called to see how you were doing.” It was true enough. He wanted to hear her voice and have her push away thoughts of Jana from his troubled mind.

  “It’s sweet of you to call and ask,” she said, which gratified and surprised him. “I’m fine, really. I met with Harriet early this morning about the audit.”

  He realized she thought he was calling to offer support, which he was happy to do. “Right. How did that go?”

  Dumb question, he thought to himself. She had a way of making him feel like a geeky teenager trying to ask the most popular girl to the homecoming dance.

  “Harriet did talk me down,” CiCi said. “She thinks the auditors will be here in a few weeks, but that’s a good thing. Means it will be over quick, and I certainly hope that’s the case. But sometimes they can take their time getting a final report out. That will be the real nail-biting time through all this.”

  Even though she was fretting, Walker loved hearing her voice. CiCi always sounded so alive, happy, and optimistic. All the things he wanted to be.

  “Would you like to go to dinner tonight?” he asked impulsively. “Just The Windmill, of course.”

  “Oh, sorry,” she said, and he braced himself for rejection for some trivial reason. “Both Rachel and Brady have trials today that are expected to go late. When that happens, I like to stay around the courthouse until the jury comes back. Never know what could happen.”

  Not exactly a petty reason, and it sounded like she’d wanted to meet him tonight.

  “Not sure I can wait to see you until Saturday,” he said before thinking. How did he let that slip out? It was true, but something like that was bound to spook her.

  “Well, you might not have to wait that long, Mr. Cain,” she said without missing a beat. “I’ll be out at the distillery on Thursday for lunch with Hannah and Lila. They already want to start planning Rachel’s baby showers, and I’m supposed to be there.”

  “Sounds like a select group. I’m not about to crash that party.”

  “But there’s no reason you can’t walk by and say hello if you want. If it’s true you can’t wait to see me, that is.”

  “Oh, that’s true,” Walker admitted. She was flirting with him—finally!—and he was more than willing to play along. “And I hope we’re still on for Saturday at The Windmill.”

  “Absolutely,” she said. “I think on Saturday they’re supposed to have strawberry pie. Wouldn’t miss it.”

  Me neither, Walker thought to himself as visions of large strawberries on the tip of CiCi’s tongue popped into his mind.

  * * *

  “Thanks for letting me tag along,” Harriet told CiCi as the two women got into CiCi’s Mini Cooper, parked in her reserved spot on the courthouse square. Being the elected clerk had its privileges, and having a reserved parking space was one of them, even though she rarely drove to work since she lived only a block away. But that Thursday morning she’d driven the short distance since she’d known she was headed out of the downtown area in the middle of the day.

  “Glad to have you, but be aware that Hannah and Lila will likely ask you to help plan Rachel’s showers.”

  “Showers?” Harriet asked as she fastened her seat belt.

  “You know Hannah,” CiCi said, pulling out of the spot and heading north on Main Street. “Always go big.”

  Harriet had asked to briefly meet during lunch that Thursday to review some documents, but CiCi had told her she needed to head to the distillery for the lunch meeting. To CiCi’s pleasant surprise, Harriet asked to come along, saying she needed to deliver some documents to Hannah and Bo and had other business at the distillery as well.

  It was a hot early May day, affording a pleasant drive through the rolling Bluegrass of central Kentucky. As they neared the distillery going north on Ashbrooke Pike, the smell of the mash greeted them as the jewellike green fields rolled by. The distillery was busy again that afternoon, although not as bustling as it had been the previous Saturday.

  “Been a few months since I’ve been here,” Harriet remarked upon entering the lobby. She looked around admiringly at the light-filled space which was filled with chattering tourists. “This is actually quite a treat.”

  CiCi and Harriet walked across the lobby together, chatting about the upcoming BourbonDaze festival over the sound of Harriet’s high heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor. How the woman could always look so put together was remarkable. In fact, she couldn’t understand why Harriet wasn’t a model and off in exotic locales rather than practicing law in tiny Bourbon Springs. That day, Harriet looked her usual stunning self: her sleek black hair was up in a tight bun, and she was wearing a black suit with a knee-high skirt and red blouse underneath. Classy and very lawyerly. By contrast, CiCi was dressed more casually in a black knit skirt and teal twinset and sandals.

  From the corner of her eye, CiCi caught sight of Goose Davenport standing off to the far right at the entrance to the hallway that led to some of the offices. She waved to him, but he failed to wave back, and for a moment she thought he was blowing her off—although she could think of no reason why Goose would be so rude to her. Then she realized Goose hadn’t actually seen her even though he seemed to be looking straight at her; the man only had eyes for Harriet.

  She doubted whether Goose could see it from a distance, but CiCi put the biggest smirk on her face she could manage and continued to head in the direction of the café with Harriet beside her, who had not noticed Goose’s presence. They had no trouble finding Hannah and Lila sitting near a window overlooking Old Crow Creek.

  “So you want in on this shower-planning fun?” Lila asked Harriet after greeting her.

  “Just how many showers are we talking about?” Harriet asked in response as she handed an envelope to Hannah, who looked as though she expected it.

  “I’m thinking three,” Hannah said.

&nb
sp; “You’re never going to get Rachel to agree to that!” CiCi exclaimed. “We barely got her to agree to the one bridal shower!”

  “Okay, okay,” Hannah conceded. “Two. One planned that she knows about and the other could be a surprise.”

  “Is it really a good idea to give a pregnant woman a surprise baby shower?” Lila asked. “I mean, when you’re pregnant, don’t you want to cut down on surprises?”

  “Not the fun stuff,” Hannah insisted.

  At that moment, a café worker came to the table and deposited several boxed lunches and drinks. The group soon was happily consuming chicken salad sandwiches on a variety of breads.

  “Damn, this is good!” CiCi exclaimed as she struggled to return her very large sandwich to the box. “I don’t recall ever seeing anything like this on the menu.”

  “That’s because it’s not,” Hannah said. “We’re testing a few new things. Lila’s idea,” and Hannah nodded to her cousin-in-law, who was soon to be her sister-in-law.

  “Please put this on the regular menu,” Harriet urged in agreement. “People would flock here just for the food.”

  “That’s part of the plan,” Lila said. “We’re thinking about putting a few fancier choices on the café menu.”

  “All for that,” CiCi said as she took another bite and watched as Goose entered the café.

  The man could not tear his eyes away from Harriet, but CiCi suspected she was the only one to have noticed the one-way attraction. The other women at the table were focused on their meals and the conversation and not paying Goose one bit of attention.

  “Give it up, CiCi,” demanded Hannah just as Goose disappeared into the café line. “How are things with Walker? He seems to be happier than usual these days.”

  “We’re sort of going out, I guess,” she said noncommittally.

  “Sort of going out? How many times have you two been to The Windmill?” asked Lila. “Ten? Twelve? Twenty?”

  “Not that many!”