Bourbon Springs Box Set: Volume III, Books 7-9 (Bourbon Springs Box Sets Book 3)

by Jennifer Bramseth

  Rachel and Brady wrapped up their presentation after a few questions and then left after a small smattering of applause from the students.

  “Okay, people,” Mack said after the judges had departed. “Test on Monday on chapters three through six of your government process book,” he said, causing the class to emit a big moan. “Oh, Gary, I need you to stay for a bit.”

  “Why?”

  “Stay and find out,” Mack said without looking at him.

  The rest of the kids rushed out in the next second when the bell rang, and Gary stayed at his desk in the back of the room.

  “Come on up here, Gary,” Mack said wearily.

  Gary obeyed, and Mack took a seat on the edge of his desk.

  “What did I do now?”

  He was a scrawny kid, redheaded and nearly always unhappy.

  “Nothing,” Mack said. “I just wanted tell you that I appreciated you paying such close attention to the judges.”

  “I already knew who they were,” Gary admitted and adjusted the books he was holding along his hip. “Especially that Judge Craft.”

  “I’m impressed. Most of the kids in this class probably had no idea who they were.”

  “Judge Craft was the guy my dad took hostage.”

  Oh shit.

  Mack knew a little bit about his students’ backgrounds, and most of them weren’t pretty. Gary had one of the sadder stories: his mother was a drug addict, and his father was in prison for some crime. The grandmother had custody of Gary, along with his siblings. It was, unfortunately, an all-too-common slice of dysfunctional family life in modern America.

  But Mack hadn’t known the details of Gary’s father’s crimes.

  Now he did.

  Why hadn’t he taken the time to learn more about his students? He’d put this poor kid in a terrible spot. No wonder Gary had hung on Brady’s every word when speaking about his hostage ordeal.

  “Gary, I’m sorry—”

  “Forget it,” Gary said. “And that asshole—”

  “Hey, language,” Mack admonished him but couldn’t blame the kid for thinking so poorly about his own father.

  “Whatever. So you really didn’t know?” Gary asked.

  “Didn’t know what?” asked a woman.

  Mack and Gary turned to see June Vinson, Gary’s grandmother and guardian, standing in the doorway.

  “Nothing,” Gary said and walked away from Mack.

  “Hello, Mrs. Vinson,” Mack said and offered the woman his hand to shake. “Good to see you.”

  “Why are you here?” Gary demanded of his grandmother. “Checking up on me?”

  “Hush,” she chastised the teen. “And don’t talk to me that way.”

  She glared at Gary as he walked by her and went into the hall without another word.

  “Sorry about that,” she said to Mack once Gary had left. “I’m just here to tell you that he won’t be here on Monday. Doctor’s appointments in Lexington.”

  Mack nodded in understanding, figuring Gary was going to see counselors. “I’ll e-mail you the work for Monday.”

  Mack fell into his desk chair once he was alone, ran his hand over his face, and thought about the two judges who’d just been in his classroom.

  Even though he knew they were married, he was shocked by how affectionate they were. What was it like to live like that? To be that in love? To be that happy?

  His thoughts naturally drifted to Jorrie and how much he wished he could be with her that evening. But she was going on that stupid blind date.

  She hadn’t mentioned it in the past week, since the night he’d taken her up Springfield Knob. Since the night they’d come within a few breaths, touches, and thin layers of clothing of making love.

  And now that he’d thought so much about her he was stuck at school for several more minutes. He was hard as steel and his jeans were tight across his crotch. No walking out of school looking like that.

  The blind date thing did bother him—although he hadn’t admitted it to her. He’d claimed he understood that she wanted to go and try to “network” or whatever it was she’d called it.

  But he still felt jealous and hypocritical about being jealous. What if she was the one to leave Craig County instead of him? What if she left him behind?

  He tried to shake the thoughts away. He had no claim on her.

  Even though he’d already admitted to himself he’d fallen for her.

  At least Jorrie wouldn’t miss his first concert at the distillery, only one week away, the Friday before the Independence Day holiday. After he’d plied Jorrie with bourbon balls from Over a Barrel and pie from The Windmill on consecutive weeknight dates, Mack had secured her promise that she would be in the audience for his first concert of the series.

  The performances were set for every other week and were going to stretch well into the fall. Mack had been shocked at how quickly everything had gotten arranged. He’d thought the idea was great but that the concerts would get off the ground in August, at the earliest, and there would only be a few that late in the summer.

  But he hadn’t counted on the combined organizing prowess of Hannah Davenport and Pepper Buckler.

  His band was excited about the summer, and so was he. They’d all agreed to play, and he felt lucky and honored that they had his back. All wanted to play and perform, just like him, for the love of the music and their community.

  The only fly in the ointment was that he was going to have to go to work early on Saturday mornings at the distillery.

  Mack had no idea how late the gigs would go but figured that he’d regularly be dragging his tired ass into the bottling house. And he’d have to endure the consistent snark of his supervisor.

  That meant he had to be careful too: not late to work, no accidents at work that could even look like they were due to fatigue. It was going to be a very delicate balancing act.

  Rather like his developing relationship with Jorrie.

  At next week’s inaugural concert, Mack planned to play one of the pieces he’d written for her—but he hadn’t decided which one. Last time he checked, he’d written more than two dozen new songs since he’d met Jorrie, not including the one he’d sung at the fair. He hadn’t told her about his new level of productivity, thinking it could spook her a little. It even spooked him.

  He’d decided one thing, however. He was going to sing whatever song he chose as a surprise for her, just as he’d sung that new song at the Craig County Fair. He wanted Jorrie to have that thrill again.

  His head hit the back of his desk chair and he looked at the ceiling. Mack wished he could be together with her that evening to give her a very different kind of thrill.

  Even though Jorrie wasn’t a Bourbon Springs native, she still felt slightly disloyal for going to Woodford Reserve. She already felt like a traitor in the midst of Craig County because the truth was that Distiller’s Select—Woodford’s main bourbon product—was her favorite bourbon, Old Garnet coming in a close second.

  Not that she went about broadcasting that opinion in Bourbon Springs.

  That evening, she was going to meet Rissa, Rissa’s on-off boyfriend, Rick, and the blind date Rissa had arranged at the visitors’ center at Woodford, as it was commonly known. The distillery usually closed at five, but on Friday and Saturday nights in the summer it stayed open for casual dinners. Guests ate at tables on the back porch of the visitors’ center or at the tables dotting the small lawn below the porch.

  Jorrie was looking forward to the experience for the food and the chance to meet people from Rissa’s firm, although she hoped that her date would keep his hands to himself. She wasn’t interested in any kind of romantic attachment to the guy.

  She’d already fallen hard for a guy back home.

  Jorrie hadn’t told Rissa about Mack but hoped they’d have a quiet moment alone so she could reveal a little about the new man in her life.

  She arrived at Woodford Reserve shortly before six in the evening. The drive to the site wa
s ridiculously picturesque. The backroads to the distillery wound through prime Bluegrass, and she was surrounded by thoroughbred farms, one of which was home to the recent Triple Crown winner.

  The summer evening was hot but lovely. The typical haze coated the land in a living, breathing halo of diffused light. It reminded her of Craig County, and Jorrie was surprised to find that she felt a pang of homesickness, even though she’d only been gone from Bourbon Springs for less than an hour.

  Jorrie had heard that the Woodford visitors’ center had undergone a recent renovation, and she was anxious to see it. She parked her car in the cramped lot at the front of the center, walked up the flagstone-covered path to a wraparound porch, and entered through two french doors.

  Stepping into the center, Jorrie immediately appreciated the uniqueness of the space. Like at Old Garnet, the flooring was rich hardwood, the warmth of which was highlighted by a gas fireplace running along the wall to her far right. The fireplace was vented by a gleaming copper chimney, and she quickly grasped the symbolism of the color. Woodford Reserve’s stills were copper pot stills, specially manufactured for them in Scotland when the distillery had been reopened for bourbon production in the late 1990s.

  “Jorrie!” Rissa called to her from the center of the visitors’ center.

  Jorrie saw her friend, along with two men, rise and greet her. She walked to the group, where she hugged Rissa and said hello to Rick Gleason, Rissa’s boyfriend.

  “And this is Elliot Carter,” Rissa said, introducing Jorrie to a tall, thin guy in his thirties.

  He was quite good-looking, very well dressed, and had a hungry look. Nonetheless, she appreciated that he managed to keep his eyes on her face instead of her chest. She’d intentionally chosen a simple black sheath which showed no cleavage but had failed to notice until she’d gotten in the car that it was a little too tight across her breasts.

  “What looks good on the menu tonight?” Jorrie asked her companions.

  She immediately regretted her question. Elliot’s hungry look had markedly increased.

  “Let’s give these guys our orders, and we can go find a place to sit,” Rissa suggested as she cast a glance toward the front doors. “If we don’t find a table soon, we won’t be able to sit at all.”

  After a quick review of the menu (alas, they weren’t grilling burgers and steaks that night), Jorrie gave Elliot her order—a brie and turkey sandwich on sourdough bread—and tried to give him some money.

  “No way,” he insisted, refusing her offer. “My treat tonight.”

  Rissa led Jorrie out of the visitors’ center and onto the back porch, where every table was already occupied. Jorrie spied a table with an umbrella on the lawn below the porch, and the two friends made a beeline for it before some other group could claim it.

  “Okay,” Rissa said, tossing her mane of dark hair over her shoulder. “What gives? Don’t you like Elliot? He’s yummy!”

  Jorrie shot a glance toward the porch. “Don’t let Rick hear you say that. And why don’t you think I like him?”

  “Jorrie, I’ve known you for years. You were polite—but I saw your face. Nothing there.”

  “That obvious?”

  “Yeah, but to him too,” Rissa said. “He’s into you. And he’s the kind of guy who likes a challenge.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Loves to litigate, for one thing. It’s not just a job for him from what I hear the other lawyers say.”

  “How tiresome. No one in their right mind truly loves to litigate.”

  “What the hell’s wrong with you?” Rissa sat forward in her chair. “He’s hot and he’s hot for you. I saw how he looked at you—and you’re suddenly the Ice Queen of the Bluegrass. What gives? Wait—don’t tell me you’ve got another guy.”

  Jorrie couldn’t suppress a smile.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I told you I’d show up for this,” Jorrie said. “But since that time—well, things sort of moved rapidly with—with…”

  Jorrie stumbled, not wanting to reveal Mack’s name. He was still fairly well-known in the area, and she wasn’t sure she wanted a gossip like Rissa to know the identity of her beau.

  “Rapidly? How rapidly? You mean sliding-between-the-sheets kind of thing already?” Rissa asked with a little too much glee in her voice.

  “No, not like that.” She looked around to see if other diners nearby could overhear the tidbits of her personal life. “And keep it down.”

  “Why the secrecy? And why’d you keep it from me? Who is this guy?”

  She couldn’t keep the name from her best friend.

  “I’m dating Mack Blanton.”

  Rissa blinked for a few moments, and Jorrie knew her friend wasn’t making the connection.

  “The Big Sing Thing?” Jorrie offered.

  “Oh!” Rissa exclaimed. “That singer! Where’d you meet him? Nashville? How’d you sneak down there and not tell me?”

  “He’s not in Nashville anymore,” Jorrie said. “He lives and works in Bourbon Springs now.”

  “But—I thought he was supposed to be the next big thing or something in country music.”

  “He’s now in Craig County. He came back to Kentucky to look after his grandfather.” While her version of events was truthful, she also knew it wasn’t the complete picture.

  “So I guess it’s fun while it lasts, right?” Rissa said with a leering smile. “Back home for a short time to check up on things and then back to the big city? A summer fling?”

  “No,” Jorrie said. “He’s gone back to teaching, and he also works at the distillery.”

  Jorrie hated the look of confusion mixed with just a little contempt she saw in her friend’s face. It made her sick—and it made her even sicker when she realized that this was the same look she’d probably given Mack the day of Goose and Harriet’s wedding.

  It was that look of revulsion when presented with the failure of another.

  “He’s come home to Craig County,” Jorrie continued, feeling defensive. “He takes care of his grandpa, works, and has plans to get back to Nashville someday.”

  She never thought she’d throw out Mack’s dreams to return to the music industry as a way to make herself feel better, but that was what she’d just done.

  “Oh, I see,” Rissa said. “But—”

  Jorrie looked to her left and saw Rick and Elliot heading out of the visitors’ center with trays full of food.

  She pointed to their dates, happy to be diverted from the topic of her love life back in Bourbon Springs.

  The men deposited the food on the table and Elliot tilted the umbrella against the sinking sun. As he did so, Jorrie examined the food he had brought to the table.

  He’d brought her way more than just a mere sandwich.

  “What is all this stuff?”

  Jorrie marveled as she cast her eyes at the several containers Elliot and Rick had brought to the table along with the sandwiches.

  “I’m not coming all the way out to Woodford from Lexington and not sample some of their finer wares,” Elliot said, shrugging out of his suit jacket before taking a seat.

  Jorrie examined the small feast set before her. In addition to the massive sandwich, Elliot had brought fruit and pasta salads, chips, a piece of pie and cookies.

  “Is that bourbon chocolate pecan pie?” Jorrie asked, her eyes widening. It was the most delectable pie she had ever eaten. The Windmill’s version came a close second.

  “Of course,” Elliot said.

  “Do I look that hungry?”

  He flashed a very toothy grin that was on the razor’s edge of being a leer.

  “I couldn’t say, but I sure am.”

  Jorrie rolled her lips into her mouth, looked down at the food and then caught Rissa’s eye. Her friend smirked at her as she opened a bag of chips and popped one into her mouth.

  Dinner on the lawn was lovely and delicious, although Jorrie was more than a little uncomfortable in Ellio
t’s presence. Even if she hadn’t had a boyfriend, Elliot still would’ve set her teeth on edge. He seemed like a lady-killer, a player, out for whatever he could get.

  All those things that Jorrie had suspected of Mack but had come to understand were not true of him.

  Jorrie excused herself to the bathroom and Rissa tagged along. Once inside the darkened ladies’ room, Rissa wasted no time in questioning her.

  “So? What do you think? Is he any competition for what you’ve got back home?”

  “What are you asking me? Whether I’d—I’d dump Mack for—”

  “Come on, Jorrie,” implored Rissa in an impatient tone. “Are you really going to tell me that you’d prefer a washed-up singer over that hunky attorney out there?”

  Jorrie spun on her friend, her eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

  “What did you just say?”

  “Uh, well…,” Rissa fumbled.

  Jorrie stared at her friend, shocked at her derision for Mack.

  “I—I think I’ll just go back to the table,” Rissa mumbled and retreated from the bathroom.

  Was this how Mack felt in Bourbon Springs? Did he walk around like this all the time, defensive and full of resentment? How could someone live like that?

  What a burden to bear.

  Jorrie soon returned to the table and immediately noted Rissa was giving her the cold shoulder. Their friendship had fractured, yet Jorrie didn’t feel too much of a loss.

  She did, however, feel like a fool for agreeing to the whole setup. And she could probably now forget about making any inroads at Rissa’s firm.

  Not that she cared. Bourbon Springs had become a much more attractive place since her relationship with Mack had blossomed.

  After some polite but strained conversation following dinner, Rissa claimed she had a headache and decided she wanted to go.

  “I need to get back to Bourbon Springs,” Jorrie said, rising along with Rissa and Rick, who were departing in a hurry.