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

by Jennifer Bramseth

  A man who was still somewhat conflicted himself about his feelings about his family and the past and how his side of the family was treated by another side.

  She had a conflict.

  Harriet knew she had to tell Hannah as soon as possible and that she had to get out of the representation.

  And she couldn’t even tell Goose what was going on unless Hannah let her.

  Harriet longed to pick up the phone and call Goose. She wanted to be the one to tell him that he possibly owned a small sliver of Old Garnet.

  But she couldn’t. Her duty was to report to her client and keep her mouth shut to all others.

  She couldn’t be the one to tell the man she loved that he possibly had a part of his heritage back.

  The place where Parker had made shine to survive.

  The place where Elijah likely had learned to make it.

  The place that Goose had been so eager to find and to show her just last month.

  His place, a sacred spot to his family and to him.

  And she couldn’t share the news of this discovery with him.

  Harriet left the clerk’s office to call Hannah, but her client didn’t pick up so she sent a text requesting a meeting at the distillery that afternoon. By the time she’d made her quick court appearance for Jon and had returned to her office, Hannah had texted back.

  Busy this pm. But come for dinner at café @ 6?

  Harriet responded she’d be there.

  That was almost four more hours to wait.

  She paced, full of nervous energy and trying to resist the temptation to call Goose.

  Instead, temptation called her.

  She held the phone in her hands, looking at it, feeling almost like she had when she’d been debating whether to answer her parents’ call after Thanksgiving.

  She relented and answered, hoping that her voice wouldn’t give away the worry in her heart.

  “How’s Monday treating you?”

  “It’s Monday,” she replied.

  “How about we try to make it a fun one tonight?”

  “Oh—I’m not sure,” she fumbled.

  “What?”

  “I have a meeting with Hannah about distillery business at six at the café,” Harriet said quickly.

  “Don’t sound too happy about it,” he said, picking up on her distress.

  “Not really,” she admitted. “I’ll probably eat dinner there with her. So there goes that idea for us tonight.”

  “Can you save room for dessert?”

  “Depends on what you’re offering,” she said in a sultry voice.

  “I made more ice cream, and my mom gave me some of her jam cake. Interested?” She sighed and then let out a long moan. Such a treat after the day she was having would be perfect. “I really like it when you make that noise,” he said.

  “If you’ve got that ice cream and cake, I’ll moan as much as you want.”

  “I’d rather make you moan another way.”

  After making plans to meet at the visitors’ center they ended the call, and Harriet was restless for the remainder of the afternoon. Unsettled in mind and body, she went for a walk around the downtown area. The day had warmed and the snow was gone, so there was no chance of slipping and sliding on the ice. As she trod along the familiar lanes of Bourbon Springs, Harriet rehearsed in her head what she wanted to say to Hannah and Goose.

  Once she told Hannah about the discovery, Harriet planned to announce she was out of the case, that she had a conflict, and that the distillery would need to get new counsel on the whole history project. She hated to be shut out of the endeavor; she’d really enjoyed working on the application to extend the historic site grounds and had been looking forward to doing more work on the National Historic Landmark job.

  But that was not to be.

  She’d tell Hannah that while she could no longer work on the matters that Jon Buckler could. Her check of the ethics rules had confirmed her original conclusion that just because she was going to be conflicted out of the case due to her personal relationship with Goose, that didn’t mean Jon, her law partner, was out as well.

  Jon had done work for the distillery before, so he seemed the natural choice to pick up the ball on the work—if Hannah, Bo, and Lila wanted him. They could decide to hire another firm completely. But Jon had recently represented Bo in the land dispute with Lila, so she knew those two had a good relationship. Harriet felt reasonably confident the firm could keep Old Garnet as a client.

  Harriet kept on walking, ignoring the increasingly cold wind as it whipped her long dark hair around her face. The sky was darkening, with the edge of a bank of low, dark clouds appearing off to the west. But she walked on, oblivious and a little overheated from her thoughts as well as her physical exertions.

  She hoped Hannah would let her tell Goose—but then she realized she had to deal with more people than merely Hannah.

  They’d have to talk to Lila and Bo. All three Old Garnet owners would have to agree to allow her to tell Goose about this deed issue. And could the newlyweds be reached by phone?

  But even if she could get everyone’s permission, how to tell Goose?

  She doubted they’d instruct her not to tell him. They couldn’t bury this inconvenient discovery, unless they were willing to abandon the entire history project, which Harriet knew her clients were not willing to do.

  Harriet returned to her office and again reviewed the deed, Fuzzy’s will, and various surveys. She prepared small packets of information for Hannah and herself containing these important documents as well as one for Goose, just in case they decided to tell him.

  During the last hour before she left for the distillery, Harriet was stuck on the phone with a very teary Linsey, her best friend from younger days. Although they’d remained close during Harriet’s time away at school and for work, the friendship had slackened upon Harriet’s return to Bourbon Springs and Linsey’s marriage. And it was that marriage which was the subject of Linsey’s tears.

  “I can’t—I can’t believe he’d do this to us!” Linsey sobbed into the phone.

  Linsey had just revealed that she’d discovered her husband, Rob, had been having an affair. She’d confronted him about it, and he admitted it and said he was leaving her and the children for the other woman.

  Linsey wanted a divorce, full custody of her two small children, and pretty much every last drop of money and blood she could squeeze from her estranged husband’s wallet and bodily orifices. Harriet tried to calm her and made an appointment for Linsey to come into the office the next day. She knew Linsey couldn’t afford her regular rates, and she’d likely have to do the work pro bono, which she didn’t mind since it was for a friend in need.

  Thank goodness she had the drive to the distillery to cheer her. Harriet needed the relaxation and comfort of the familiar vistas to wrap around herself like a protective blanket as she headed toward a meeting she expected would be somewhat unpleasant. Just beyond the last traffic light on the outskirts of Bourbon Springs going north, the full glory of the Bluegrass was unfurled before her as a shimmering, jade-green cloak of fields and swales and little valleys. Even in the dimness of deepening fall and the encroaching clouds, the green was still present in the land, the life was still stirring and waiting for the warm reminders of spring.

  Upon arriving in the parking lot, she recognized Hannah’s car and Goose’s truck. Walker’s reserved spot was empty, and the new minivan was parked directly in front of the visitors’ center, apparently about to be loaded or unloaded.

  As Harriet walked toward the building, Goose exited and headed straight for the minivan. It was the first time since they’d been a couple that she actually felt some pang of upset at his presence; she had hoped not to see him until after her meeting with Hannah in case she might be tempted to blurt out her discovery about the deed.

  With the key fob, he popped the hatch on the minivan and intercepted Harriet.

  “Still on for dessert?” he asked before greetin
g her with a kiss.

  “If all is as advertised.”

  “If you’ve got the moans, I’ve got the goods.”

  “Every last moan is yours,” she promised. His kiss had left her light-headed, and she figured that was what it was like to really be in love. To have your breath stolen by a chance meeting or fleeting touch or glance from the one you love. “What are you up to?”

  “Delivering poinsettias,” he said and pointed to the van. “All red, of course. Hannah’s orders. She wanted a big bunch of them in a row across the front of that area where the floor’s all torn up. Workers would just have to move them, so I told her I’d put them around the tree.”

  They kissed again in anticipation of parting, and at that moment, Harriet saw Hannah waving to her from inside. Hannah opened the door and yelled at the couple.

  “Plenty of time for that later, you two!” she scolded.

  “She’s been watching us from in there, hasn’t she?” Harriet asked.

  “Sure she has. Likes to keep an eye on the help.”

  He kissed her on the temple and went off to the van while Harriet scurried inside.

  Hannah held the door open, and the two women entered the emptied visitors’ center. Although the distillery was closed, all the lights were on, including all the lights on the Christmas tree to the far left and a large wreath hanging on the wall over the entrance to the café.

  “I don’t think I’ve said this, so here goes: you two really are a cute couple.”

  “Thanks,” Harriet said and followed Hannah into the café.

  Hannah already had sandwiches, salad, and drinks waiting for them.

  “Figured you hadn’t eaten if you were coming straight from the office,” Hannah said.

  “How’d you know I came from the office?”

  “Because if you’d gone home, you would’ve changed clothes,” Hannah observed, and pointed to Harriet’s dress pants. “And knowing that you probably have plans after our meeting here, I’d say you’d have chosen something more comfortable if you’d had the opportunity to change.”

  Hannah didn’t miss a thing.

  Harriet realized that she was probably the smartest, shrewdest woman she’d ever met.

  And that meant there was no way to sugarcoat or delay this kind of news when dealing with someone like Hannah Davenport.

  Harriet wanted to get down to business at once and began to pull some papers from the file she had brought with her, but Hannah insisted they talk and eat as they did so. Hannah unwrapped a sandwich and urged Harriet to do the same.

  But Harriet was there for a reason, and she wanted to get her business over with and get out of there so she could be with Goose. She put a copy of the e-mail she’d received that morning on the table and slid it across to Hannah.

  Hannah dropped her sandwich onto a paper plate and picked up a napkin to wipe her fingers.

  “Read it,” Harriet told her, answering the quizzical look on Hannah’s face.

  Hannah made quick work of the e-mail, and Harriet immediately handed her the old unrecorded deed.

  “Do you believe this?” Hannah asked after skimming the deed. “This could be a fake, couldn’t it? Where’s the original?”

  “They claim to have something that’s an original, or at least a decent copy, good enough to cause a problem.”

  “But why the hell give that to someone at the state and not record it?”

  “My theory is that the deed wasn’t recorded because they didn’t want to draw attention to the land transfer but had to give a copy to someone when their operation on the creek was discovered.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “That wasn’t state land across the creek when that deed was executed, Hannah,” Harriet pointed out. “I suspect the landowner discovered the still and made threats or raised hell. Parker gave him the deed to prove he owned the property. And then that landowner probably blackmailed Parker—maybe George, too—and never lacked for his own stash of shine. Somehow that deed got into the state’s hands when they purchased the property, which I think was back in the 1940s or 1950s. And who cared about a little one-acre deed back then? Prohibition was over, there wasn’t any border dispute with the distillery, and it was just being used by the state as a nature preserve, so the property line along a stream wasn’t that important.”

  “But this would probably make Goose the owner of that land, wouldn’t it? He’s the only heir.”

  Harriet agreed, and briefly explained how she had thought Lucy might have had a claim to the land, but upon a little more research, she decided the land was likely Goose’s property. She handed Hannah a copy of Fuzzy’s will and pointed out the remainder clause.

  “It’s his, and that’s a problem,” Harriet said. “I think that—”

  “Are you telling me this deed is any good?” Hannah asked, her anger showing. “Wouldn’t any statute of limitations prevent Goose from making a claim to that land?”

  “I’m not sure about that. There is a fifteen-year requirement for adverse possession—one has to adversely possess the land for that long—but he’s not adversely possessed anything. He doesn’t even know about this development, of course.”

  “He doesn’t?”

  “Of course not,” Harriet said. “I had to tell you first because you’re the client. And speaking of clients, I think we should try to contact Lila and Bo. I want to get permission from all of you to tell Goose about this situation, then I’m going to have to get out of this case. I’ve got a conflict.”

  “First off,” Hannah said, “I’m not calling them. They gave strict instructions they don’t want to be disturbed on their honeymoon unless there’s a cataclysm on the level of another rickhouse blowing up. I’ve got authority to act in their absence. Second, we can just tell Goose about this now and get him to agree there’s nothing to it and—”

  “Wait—you don’t think there’s anything to this?”

  “I’m saying that for Goose to make any claim under this old deed is crazy. We’ll just ask him to sign a document or agreement getting him to disavow any interest in that land down there and—”

  Harriet was horrified that Hannah would so easily dismiss Goose’s claim or try to get him to sign it away.

  And that was a perfect example of her conflict.

  She cared for Goose and the things he cared about.

  But her client cared about a very different outcome than the one Harriet was certain Goose would want.

  Hannah saw the shock on Harriet’s face and stopped talking. “What’s wrong?”

  “Again, I have to tell you what should be obvious to the both of us, Hannah. I have a conflict of interest. And I’m going to have to get out of this matter. I can’t work for the distillery on the deed issue and history project now that this problem has developed with Goose.”

  “Problem? How do you know it’s a problem?”

  How could she respond to that? That she knew it was a problem because she’d heard him talk about that island, his family history, how he felt left out?

  She decided to fall back onto the ethics opinion, and reminded Hannah what it had said. “You read the same opinion I did, Hannah. Circumstances just aren’t the same as they were when I started on this project.”

  “I don’t think I necessarily agree, but let’s just clear it up now. We’ll call Goose in here and talk to him, show him the deed, tell him there’s nothing to it, work it out.” Hannah rose from her chair and started toward the café entrance. “He’s just out here.”

  “No, wait, Hannah!” Harriet cried and went after her, shocked at how Hannah wanted to present the discovery to Goose. “I think we need to talk some more about this. About you getting another attorney for this—maybe Jon could—”

  “No, you’re the one on this project. I want you, and so do Bo and Lila. We like you and are comfortable with you. So as much as we respect Jon, we’d much prefer to have you on board,” Hannah explained as Harriet caught up to her at the café entrance.


  “Hear me out on this, Hannah,” Harriet said in her best I’m-a-lawyer-shut-up-and-listen-to-me voice. “This is not a good idea. Goose might not react the way you anticipate. This news is going to be a very big shock to him, and he’ll need some time to get his head around it. I don’t think it’s wise to have the expectation he’ll agree the deed isn’t valid.”

  “I don’t see him wanting to fight this, Harriet. It would be crazy for him to litigate over that deed, considering its questionable validity. And he’s family. We don’t need to worry about it. I know that he wants the history project to move forward as quickly as possible, just like the rest of us. So I can’t see how we could be in conflict, and I can’t see how you have one. The project is important to the distillery, to the family. He’ll agree. It’s in his best interest to do so, the way I see it.”

  Important to the distillery, to the family.

  But whose family? Which side?

  Harriet realized that Hannah thought she knew Goose, but she didn’t. He’d never shared with his cousin the feelings he had shared with her. Hannah was acting out of ignorance, despite what might be good intentions. And that was a recipe for disaster.

  “No, wait—”

  Too late.

  “Goose?” Hannah called from out of the café.

  27

  He was heading back outside, but stopped before reaching the front doors as he heard his name being called. Hannah beckoned Goose to the café, and he said he would be there after he brought in the last of the poinsettias. In the minute or so that ensued, Harriet continued to plead with Hannah not to tell him yet, to wait to talk to Bo and Lila, but Hannah shut her down, eventually giving Harriet a very hard stare of disapproval just before Goose arrived at their table.

  “You’re not going to believe what Harriet has discovered.” Hannah put the e-mail and deed into Goose’s hands as he sat down.

  Harriet watched him as he read the items; confusion and excitement moved across his face as he comprehended what he was looking at.

  “So… I guess I own that land down there, don’t I?” he asked slowly, as though the realization was sinking in as he spoke the words. Goose placed the deed and e-mail on the table in front of him. “I remember my Dad’s will. I got everything that wasn’t specifically mentioned.”