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

by Jennifer Bramseth

  Lila looked up at her and smiled.

  “I know what fear is, Miranda. It’s a poison that gnaws at your gut and your heart. I lived with that kind of unhappiness and misery before I finally understood that it was stupid to hold on to the past and that fear when it was making me miserable. There was no good reason to hold on to it anymore, other than to keep myself sad under the guise of protecting myself. I learned it doesn’t work that way. You’ve got to give in a little, sometimes a lot, but whatever it takes to get you where you need to be. And I wish I could remember who said this, but it’s true: everything you want is on the other side of fear. So get beyond it. It can hurt. But it’s so worth it.”

  Bo returned, along with Hannah, Kyle, Goose, and Harriet.

  “How many people are allowed in here at once?” the new father asked.

  “Not this many,” she said, “so I’ll leave and act like I don’t know about this.”

  Miranda moved to the door as the family entered the room, with Hannah at the head of the group.

  Hannah put a hand on her chest.

  “Oh! She has red hair! My niece has red hair! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Bo put an arm around his sister’s shoulders.

  “Thought it would be a nice surprise.”

  “Just like Mom! Just like Jamie!” Hannah started to cry.

  “Want to hold her?” asked Lila.

  Hannah bent down to receive baby Angelica as Miranda closed the door.

  She walked down the hospital corridor in a daze, awed by what she’d just witnessed and heard. She had no idea how many babies she’d delivered in her career, but Angelica Davenport’s arrival ended up being very special.

  The child was a little beacon of hope, the proof Miranda needed to believe.

  Because if someone like Lila could overcome her fears to create a happy life, there had to be hope for her as well.

  She pulled out her cell phone and learned that it was now well after one in the morning. She checked her messages and had one from Prent, asking for her to call if not too late; he said he knew she was at the hospital.

  On a whim, she checked the weather for the day and learned that it was supposed to be glorious for March: clear with temperatures into the sixties.

  She didn’t want to call Prent and wake him or get involved in a late-night conversation, so instead she texted him.

  Perryville

  Noon today

  You know the spot

  Roll out the barrel

  26

  If this was her way of finally breaking it off, he had to admit that she had quite a flair for the dramatic.

  He’d had a restless night, and when he heard his phone ding in the wee hours, Prent immediately checked it and saw her cryptic text.

  Perryville.

  That damned and beautiful place.

  As a kid he’d gone there a few times with family to play on the old playground. With Miranda, he’d often gone there for intimate picnics. She had explained it was a special place for her, as it reminded her of the time when her father had still been alive and how she’d spent many happy days roaming and playing on the grounds.

  Now he associated the site with a strange mixture of pain and hope, his entire image of the park marked with the still-vivid memories of the hours after he’d left Miranda at the altar.

  He had decided to propose that day. But her choice of site for the meeting along with the inexplicable reference to the barrel made him nervous. He knew she wasn’t above making a statement by her selection of the spot for this encounter.

  If she told him good-bye at Perryville, it was over forever. There was something sad and absolute about the place that, when mixed with its haunting beauty, conveyed a sense of true finality.

  Prent was happy to see that he’d arrived first, which made it easier for him to hide the item he’d brought. Finding only a few cars around, he parked in front of the cemetery and made for the wall where Miranda had found him that June day years ago.

  The day was truly lovely, and he was happy for the break from his usual routine. The earth was a bit soft and dank from recent rains although not muddy, and the wonderful scents and sights of impending spring were in the air. Tips of twigs on maple trees were turning purple. The chirps of birds were more plentiful than in recent days. The quality of the light in the sky touched that primal part of the brain which craved the sun, signaling that brighter days were ahead.

  He found that same spot on the stone wall and parked himself on it, taking in the view before him. Beyond the cedar tree to his left, the land gently sloped down and then back up, the ground all around him a series of soft green undulations.

  He knew enough of history to know that men fought and died here in a bitter, bloody battle, and tried to recall the little bit of history Miranda had tried to teach him about the site when they’d been here together. He’d never been able to soak up much of her teachings since he was always distracted by not only the undiminished splendor of the landscape but by her presence.

  Once again, he was so immersed in thoughts of her that he failed to detect her arrival.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder and shivered, but at least this time he didn’t embarrass himself and tumble to the ground. Prent clasped Miranda’s hand and stood, the wall a barrier between them.

  “Nice day,” she said.

  “Just got nicer.”

  He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. She blushed, and it awed him.

  It was the one small sign he needed that all would be well.

  “Sorry you couldn’t reach me yesterday. Had a rather special delivery.”

  “Lila?”

  “Cannot confirm or deny,” she said, smiling, “but if you have business with Bo Davenport, I’d recommend delaying that call for a few days.”

  They sat on the wall, their legs facing opposite directions but still holding hands.

  “Why here? I haven’t been back since that day,” he said, knowing she needed no further detail.

  She turned, and he saw her in profile, with the sun shining behind her. Miranda closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

  “A place with such beauty and horror never fails to remind me that I’m alive. And I’m grateful for that,” she said, opening her eyes and turning to him. “I still come out here sometimes to clear my head although it’s been a few months. Probably haven’t been out here since sometime around Christmas.”

  “Since before we got back together,” he observed. “But today you needed to be here?” he asked, a little fearful.

  “I wanted to be here. With you.”

  He put his hand to her cheek, and she tilted her head to let him kiss her for the first time in a few weeks since the night they’d spent together after Kurt’s funeral.

  The kiss was light but most welcome, and as much as he wanted to continue, he had to tell her what he’d uncovered. He pulled away and took one of her hands again.

  “I know that you said you didn’t want to know anything about my money, but looking back that was a mistake. And since we’re supposed to learn from our mistakes, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Prent paused, sighed, and related the sad tale of Kurt’s long-term thieving.

  “I feel like such an idiot for trusting him for so long. I knew he was an asshole, but I had no idea he was a thief too.”

  “How can it be your fault for trying to think the best of someone?”

  “I don’t know if I thought the best of him, but I never did think the worst of him either.”

  “How much did he take?”

  “Damn near all of it. The good news is that I’ve managed to trace some of it to his other bank accounts. And since I’m his only heir, I’ll get that. I don’t know why he did it other than he could. He was a bully on a total power trip. I guess deep down he resented me. And to take my money was a way of releasing that anger,” he said, shaking his head. “To live with a lie like that for so long.”

  Miranda released his hands
, placed her own in her lap, and turned away from him. She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small object he recognized at once. Miranda took the tiny wooden thing and rolled it to him along the top of the wall, where he caught it before it rolled away and tumbled to the ground.

  “There’s a lie I’ve been living with for a while.”

  He held it up and turned it over in his hands. It was the custom-made box he’d had constructed in which he’d presented her engagement ring.

  “You kept this box?”

  “Not the only thing I kept.”

  He slid the small concealed tray from the barrel and found Miranda’s engagement ring snugly and safely tucked inside. Shocked, the larger part of the barrel fell from his hands and onto the ground as he stared dumbstruck at the ring, which glittered in the sun as it was released from its confinement.

  “I… I thought you sold it.” He removed the ring from the holder and tossed it to the ground with the other piece. “You got that brand new car so soon after we broke up. I always assumed that you’d sold this.”

  “I couldn’t do it.” She swallowed and looked up at him, unshed tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry I never told you and let you believe what you did, just like I never told you about my decision at the church. And I know that you might hate me for not telling you until now, but I’m tired of not telling.

  “I’m tired of being so damned fearful about being honest with you. I did that for over two years, trying to convince us both that I wasn’t still in love with you. And that’s why I kept that ring. Giving it up would be like giving you up, and deep down I knew I couldn’t do that. I hope you’ll forgive me for not admitting that and telling you, and I know that’s a lot to ask.”

  Smiling, he hopped off the wall, grabbed something from the ground on his side, and then jumped to the other side.

  Kneeling in front of Miranda and holding the ring in one hand, he presented her with the same stave she’d seen on a certain warm winter’s night under the Old Oak.

  Marry me

  “I love you, Miranda. You’ll always have my forgiveness. And I don’t care that you kept this little secret from me,” he said, holding the ring up with one hand as he dropped the stave and took her left hand. “I told you to keep the ring. It was yours to do with as you wished. And no more secrets, big or small.

  “I’d tell you to forget the failures, the disappointments, the stupid things we’ve been through, but that’s not how we move forward. We have to understand where we’ve been to appreciate where we are and where we’re going. And I know where I want to go with you—the future. I love you. Be my wife at last.”

  “Yes,” she said, looking into his eyes.

  Prent slipped the ring on her finger; it still fit perfectly. He bent his head to kiss her hand quickly, then stood and pulled her to him.

  This time when he kissed her, it was deep and long, better than any kiss he could remember. It was the kiss of hope—and he desperately hoped that they could get back to his house as soon as possible and make love for the rest of the day.

  Then he had a better thought.

  “Remember the last time we were here and I wanted to go get married that day?”

  “Yes, but we still had the marriage license. We don’t have one now,” she pointed out. “And it’s Saturday. The county clerk’s office would be closed.”

  “But you forget that I know the sheriff personally. And he knows the county clerk.”

  “Get married today? This afternoon?”

  “Yes,” he said and gripped her hips. “Haven’t we waited long enough, gone through enough? Besides, knowing us, we’d better go ahead and get it done before one or both of us gets cold feet again.”

  “Not a chance.” She pulled him into a passionate kiss.

  He relished the mingled sweetness and passion of her attentions, and his body reacted at once. Even though it was merely balmy, the warmth from Miranda’s body scorched him and marked him.

  This was the day, that wonderful day when they would finally harness that heat and desire. But not to forget or reduce the past to mere ashes.

  Today they claimed the power of the present, to mold their future and make something new and wonderful.

  “We are in public, you know,” he said, breaking the kiss and panting.

  “Then you’d better marry this woman and take her home,” she said against his parted lips.

  He grabbed her head and kissed her hard and quick before laughing, delirious and delighted at the turn of events.

  “But what about a judge?” he asked.

  “I happen to have Rachel Richards’s number in my phone. I’ve heard she loves to do weddings, especially impromptu ones.”

  “But that would mean we’d have to go to Bourbon Springs before returning to the house.”

  “Well, going back to Craig County does have its benefits. I could swing by my house and pick up a few things, as I imagine I’ll be spending the night with you for the foreseeable future.”

  “You’d better be,” he said and held her closely so there was no mistaking that he was extremely aroused.

  “And there is one more thing that I kept from our wedding. Actually, several things,” she said, looking a little sad. “I really need to go to the house and get them.”

  “What?”

  “All of my bridal lingerie,” she said with a grin. “With the exception of that one nightgown you’ve seen, it’s all been sitting unused all this time in a drawer at my house. Don’t you think it’s time it was put to good use?”

  Prent threw his head back and laughed with her, their joy echoing amongst the low hills around them. Miranda joined his happiness, laughing with him and taking his hand as they ran together across the small cemetery, the brisk spring wind not chilling them, the bright Kentucky sun outwardly warming the couple, matching the incandescent joy in their hearts.

  Epilogue

  “Why do you keep looking at your watch, Mr. Mercer? Do you need to be somewhere?”

  It was a long docket that May morning, and Cara Forrest was one weary mother.

  And judge.

  She’d been up all night with Nate, who had a stomach virus, and was exhausted and hoping that she wouldn’t catch the bug from her precocious toddler. He seemed fine and recovered when she left him in her mother’s care, but she was now suffering the ill effects of lack of sleep coupled with a seemingly interminable docket.

  Too many pleas and motions that morning. And the general snippiness of the lawyers was getting on her nerves.

  Drake Mercer was the chief offender that day, grumbling his way through the cases, frowning and sighing when he didn’t get his way. She didn’t know why she was noticing these little reactions in him since Cara couldn’t recall many instances where he’d displayed such a poor attitude. He’d always been an aggressive advocate for his clients, but his general grumpiness was a new thing, and she didn’t like it.

  “Sorry, your honor,” Drake said and looked genuine in his regret. “I certainly meant no disrespect. It’s just that I wanted to get to Littleham this morning.”

  “Do you have court in Van Winkle County today? If so, I can move your cases up on the docket and you can get out of here.”

  “No, I’d planned to go to Commonwealth Cooperage’s tree-planting ceremony. But thanks,” he added, nodding and smiling.

  Cara rubbed her right temple with her finger. The sleep deprivation was giving her a wicked headache.

  “I’d hoped to go to that as well but not sure I can. Nonetheless, let’s get your cases out of the way.”

  And before Drake could utter a word of thanks, that’s what she did, calling his cases before turning to the remainder of her docket.

  Yet even though Drake’s work was finished, he lingered in the courtroom, sitting in the gallery.

  She disposed of her docket within the next fifteen minutes and retreated to her chambers off the district courtroom on the second floor of the Craig County Courthouse. Although a
judge, her office wasn’t that much larger than what she had enjoyed in private practice. Nonetheless, she liked being on the same floor as the clerk’s office since it was convenient and she also liked to go and chat with the clerks occasionally.

  But that day she was feeling less than sociable and was contemplating returning home to rest, skipping the ceremony at the cooperage in Littleham. She wanted to go since Miranda had personally invited her. Cara had the sense that Miranda had invited her as a way to pull her a bit from her shell, which she appreciated but still found a difficult task.

  Being around people, except in court, was not easy.

  A soft knock at her open door roused her, and she looked up to see Drake Mercer standing there.

  “Sorry to barge in like this unannounced, but your secretary seems to be gone.”

  “She’s out today. And not a problem. How can I help you?”

  “I was wondering whether you’d like a ride down to Littleham for the ceremony this afternoon,” he offered in a rush of words. He shifted his weight from leg to leg and gave every impression of looking nervous. Which was not like him at all.

  “Actually, I don’t know whether I’ll be going. Bad headache,” she explained and tapped her temple. “Up with Nate last night.”

  “He’s ill?”

  “Tummy bug. But by the time I left him with my mother this morning, it was as though he’d never been sick. Kids bounce back so quickly from stuff, unlike their elders. I’m just tired from being up with him.”

  “Well, if you want a ride down to Littleham, I’d be happy to oblige.”

  She questioned why Drake was going to the ceremony since she knew of no connection he had to Miranda Chaplin or Prent Oakes. Perhaps he was just curious, like many in Bourbon Springs since the loss of the Old Oak at Commonwealth Cooperage had been news akin to the exploding rickhouse at Old Garnet a few years earlier although not quite as catastrophic.

  The losses of comforting and strong symbols of continuity had been devastating to both communities.

  Old Garnet had survived and even thrived its misfortune and Cara hoped that the same would be true for the cooperage. She admired the resilience of both institutions and the people behind them, and wished she could share just a small portion of that strength. Since her husband died, she felt like she’d been sleepwalking through life.