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

by Jennifer Bramseth

  “Yes, but not my skills. Todd was a master at working the crowd, making connections.”

  “I’m surprised he never ran for office,” Drake said.

  “He liked the behind-the-scenes work better.”

  Cara tried to check the time discreetly, but Drake caught her.

  “Need to get home already?” He popped the last bite of his burger into his mouth and pointed to the final onion ring. She held up a hand to refuse it.

  “No, but I wanted to get to the library before it closed.”

  “You’ve got plenty of time. They have long summer hours. So unless you’re going to be rude and run off and leave me alone, you’re stuck here with me for a while.”

  “Maybe I need to get home.”

  “Nope. You’d have used that excuse already.” He stood and offered her his hand. “Take a walk with me.”

  “Where?”

  “Along the creek. There’s a spot I know Nate would love.” He turned and tossed his trash.

  “Then I’d best avoid it.”

  “And me as well?”

  She stared at his open hand.

  There was the world of opportunity and risk he offered.

  The entire day had been filled with reminders of risk and reward, the tension between promise and the safety of the status quo. Yet Cara knew the options presented a false equivalence, the fallacy of choice. Todd’s death had destroyed her status quo, but she later learned there had been no safety in her supposedly happy home.

  Cara slid her hand into Drake’s, and he pulled her to her feet. He seemed surprised that she had accepted his suggestion, then smiled and kissed her hand, his eyes never leaving her face.

  The world around her dissolved.

  There was only him.

  They stared at each other for a few long moments. She expected him to kiss her—and she wanted him to kiss her.

  But apparently he had other ideas in mind.

  Keeping her hand in his, Drake led her to a narrow, worn path by the creek where they dodged low-hanging branches, rough outcroppings of limestone, and a large tree stump that bulged into the path, making travelers nearly step in the creek to pass.

  “You navigated that like a pro,” she said.

  “Practically lived here as a kid,” Drake said, his grip on her hand still strong. “My parents and I lived only a few blocks south of here. This was my backyard growing up.”

  She ducked another cluster of tree branches, still tightly holding Drake’s hand.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “My secret spot. Haven’t been there in a few years.”

  “And this is the place Nate is going to love?”

  “No doubt about it.”

  They picked along the trail for another five minutes as the light seeped from the sky. Drake stopped above the creek on a high bank, then pointed to a small stone-laden path leading down to the water.

  “I don’t want to fall in,” she protested, not wanting to get near the creek.

  “You won’t, but even if you do, it won’t be bad,” he promised. “Look, the water is shallow below the bank and the ground even. And listen.”

  The low croaks and chirps of scores of frogs provided an auditory curtain on this small pastoral stage. Looking to the surface of the stream, Cara saw a few of the creatures jumping from the water, eager for an evening meal. If the number of mosquitos attacking her were any indication, the amphibians would not go hungry that night.

  The creek cascaded over a low ledge, producing a small waterfall about five yards across the creek. Atop the opposite bank, a wall of tall cedars stood sentinel, shielding the glade and making the space feel more like a room than the great outdoors.

  “C’mon,” he said and pulled her toward the path.

  Cara could not resist his boyish enthusiasm, and in the next minute they were beside the water.

  “I’d have to be crazy to bring Nate here,” she said. “I’d never get him to leave.”

  “Then maybe I should take him here,” Drake suggested.

  “You don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for.”

  “Maybe not, but I’d like to learn. Give me a chance, Cara.”

  Drake’s jaw was tense, and Cara knew that he had brought her to this place not merely to impress her but in search of his own spot of safety as he again pleaded with her for a small slice of her heart. This was the site of a thousand wonderful memories of summer days long past, and she understood that he hoped to make more with her, starting that night.

  After a day of contemplating the past and the present, risk and reward, she was ready to start down that road, however small the steps.

  Trembling, she clasped his other hand and took a step toward him.

  “So take your chance, counselor.”

  After a long pause in which she heard him swallow, he dropped her left hand and put his right to her cheek, staring at her with wonder and trepidation. Dipping his head to hers, their lips touched, the kiss searching and slow. Her arms encircled his waist as his other hand roamed along her back, caressing and pulling her closer to him.

  Cara broke the kiss. Tilting her head, she smiled at him as his forefinger stroked her jawline.

  “I guess I need to make a ruling. First thing tomorrow, I’m entering an order recusing myself from all your cases.”

  “Is that the judicial way of saying we’re now going out?”

  “I haven’t actually heard you ask me out.”

  “Then let’s make that recusal order worth the paper it will be written on: Will you go out with me Friday night? It’s Mack’s last concert at the distillery before he ties the knot with Jorrie. I’ll buy you dinner at the distillery, or The Windmill, or we can take a picnic. Whatever you want.”

  “It’s a date.”

  He sighed and smiled, satisfaction spreading across his face.

  “And while my luck seems to be on the good side, let me ask you whether you’d like to be my date to that wedding.”

  “You’re moving pretty fast, Mercer,” she teased.

  “Gotta take my chances while I can,” he said, kissing her again. “And it usually doesn’t take me the better part of three months after I kiss a woman to get her out on a date.”

  “You have a lot of experience in that area?”

  “I’d best do what I advise my clients. Keep my mouth shut.”

  “Too late for that.”

  Cara put her hands at the back of his head and wove her fingers into his unkempt blond hair. Kissing him, she savored the softness of his locks against her hands and recalled how wonderful his hair had felt the first time she touched it. That hot May day seemed like a lifetime ago, when they’d been trapped together in his vehicle, stealing kisses before they attended the tree-planting ceremony at Commonwealth Cooperage.

  The night was thick and hot, and even though her hair was off her neck in a ponytail, Cara could feel the sweat on the back of her neck and on her scalp. As Drake moved his lips to her neck, she heard the water rushing over the small ledge, and she thought how wonderful a cool shower or bath that night would be.

  And her next thought was her son. He’d needed a bath that night, and it was now later than his bedtime.

  She pulled away from Drake, leaving him startled.

  “What time is it?” Cara slipped her phone from her pocket and checked the time. “I need to get to the library and on my way home. Nate needs a bath. In fact, maybe I’d better skip the library and go straight—”

  Drake placed a hand on Cara’s arm.

  “Why don’t you call your mother and check on Nate?”

  “I guess it’s obvious I don’t get out much.”

  “It’s obvious you love your son.”

  Drake kissed her on the cheek and took a few steps toward the water, leaving Cara to make her call. She watched him throw pebbles into the creek as she talked with her mother, who assured her that Nate was fine and that she could give him a bath.

  “You want me to keep h
im here tonight?” she asked Cara. “He’s already sleepy, and I have plenty of clothes for him.”

  “Sorry, I just didn’t think I’d be out this late, and I want to get to the library.”

  “Not a problem. Take this time for yourself. Just call me in the morning, because I know that’s when he’s a real terror and I’ll be happy to hand him back to his mommy.”

  She thanked her mother, dropped her phone into the back pocket of her shorts, and joined Drake at the edge of the water. He was trying to skip stones across the surface, but the water wasn’t wide and calm enough.

  He tossed a handful of small stones into the creek, causing several frogs to leap from the water and jump deeper into the pool.

  “So you have the whole night to yourself?”

  “Yep. I ought to go home right now, take a nice long bath, and get to bed early.”

  “What about that library trip?”

  “Sounds like you want to keep me out a bit later than I’d like.”

  “You mentioned it first,” he said. “But you’re right. I’d love to keep you out a bit past bedtime.”

  By the time they got inside the library, only fifteen minutes remained until the doors were closed. Cara hastened through the stacks, found a few paperback mysteries, and breezed through checkout as Drake read some magazines. When they were back outside, they watched as the lights in the library went out until the building’s interior was left in darkness.

  He walked her back to her car, holding hands during the short trip.

  “Is this where we have to say good night?” he asked.

  Cara tossed her books and wallet into the passenger side seat, and they stood together on the curb.

  “Just what else did you have in mind?”

  “Ice cream? A drive? A walk? I’d love to take you to the preserve. Great stargazing that far out of town.”

  He was so eager; she hated to dampen that enthusiasm.

  “Hold your horses.” She placed her hands on his chest, and Drake captured her in his arms. “Don’t you want to save some of those ideas for the future?”

  “You’re offering me a future?” he teased.

  “As in a dating future,” she corrected.

  “I don’t know, maybe we should try to get it all done tonight in case you change your mind.”

  “Why would I change my mind?”

  “I haven’t forgotten how short our encounter in Littleham was,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I’ve thought all damned summer about you and those few minutes we spent in my Jeep. Call me skittish, but I have good reason to fear that you’ll change your mind.”

  She swallowed. “You’ve been thinking about me?”

  “Yes. I think I’m a little obsessed with you.”

  “I’ve never been anyone’s obsession.”

  He took her head in his hands, and she saw the glint of lust in his eyes.

  “I find that impossible to believe.”

  Even though she knew they were on Main Street in a well-lit area, Cara did not resist. This kiss was nothing like they’d shared by the creek; it came from that same well of desire in him, which had bubbled forth in Littleham in that hot, steamy Jeep of his.

  This was lust unleashed, not mere attraction or longing, and Cara greeted his lips, mouth and tongue with equal fervor. His tongue tasted, teased, taunted.

  This was the message of a man not only on a mission to turn her heart but to win her body and soul.

  Drake drew back just as she felt a hardness pressing against her hip. She couldn’t remember having such a quick impact on a man. Ever.

  Her marriage with Todd had been hot, but how it ended—sudden death and sudden revelations—had cast a pall over all her good memories of him. Yet even in the shadow of her bias, she somehow intuitively knew that Todd’s reaction to her had not been so heated, so primal as Drake’s had been.

  “Time for me to go home,” she whispered against his lips.

  His hands aside her head, Drake kissed her forehead.

  “Get me that recusal order as soon as possible,” he said, releasing her. “I’ll start telling my clients a new judge will be on the case.”

  “I’ll draft it myself in the morning, and you’ll have a copy by lunchtime.”

  “I think I just figured out the first downside to going out with you. Not seeing you in court every week.”

  “You can always come watch motion hour. But that would be crazy.”

  “Maybe I will. I told you I was obsessed.”

  “Don’t be obsessed on the court’s time. That’s what weekends are for.”

  “So we’re on for Friday?”

  “Provided my mother will watch Nate and if you bring the picnic. My culinary skills are confined these days to macaroni and cheese, peanut butter sandwiches, and chicken nuggets.”

  “Done. Any special requests?”

  “Surprise me.”

  He gave her a look that told her he was thinking of scores of ways to surprise her, and she dropped into her car and drove away before he let slip any of his secrets.

  5

  Cara was not a regular visitor to Old Garnet. By her best recollection, her last trip to the distillery was shortly before Nate was born. She had been close to delivering and miserable throughout the entire lunch and tour, feeling bloated, achy, and tired. Not exactly a happy memory.

  Although the weather had been cold that November, she could still remember how hot she’d felt through the whole ordeal, especially during the part of the tour where the group had been shown the mash tubs by a very grumpy Bo Davenport. He’d apologized for his demeanor, finally admitting toward the end of the tour that Hannah had eloped and unexpectedly left him with tour guide duty that morning. Cara still wondered how she hadn’t ended up fainting in the steamy heat of the distillery, and she looked back at the episode as an unwise escapade and out of character for her.

  She again felt out of sorts that hot Friday morning as she drove onto the grounds. Harriet had called her on Tuesday as she had been drafting the recusal order and asked whether she could meet that Friday morning with Hannah and others at the distillery.

  Plans were already in motion to secure her appointment to the Court of Appeals and to establish her campaign committee.

  Cara had happily although nervously agreed to meet, wondering why Hannah Davenport had such an interest in her candidacy.

  Harriet had perhaps sensed her curiosity when she told Cara that since Hannah’s own run for the bench a few years earlier, Hannah had been interested in seeing more women on the bench. Her best friend, Rachel Richards, was a judge, but she also had a few friends throughout the state she had quietly supported in their runs for judgeships and had taken a lot of personal satisfaction in limited successes.

  Since her last trip to Old Garnet had been during cold weather, Cara had not enjoyed seeing the grounds at their verdant peak. Cara felt a twinge of regret as she admired the wildly colorful zinnias growing close to the front doors of the visitors’ center. She had planned to plant some with Nate but had neglected to do so. She shook her head, amazed to find that there was yet one more way to experience mommy guilt.

  Harriet was sitting on a large leather couch in the middle of the lobby reading the newspaper. Upon Cara’s entry, Harriet tossed the paper aside, popped up from her seat, and greeted her enthusiastically.

  Cara cast her gaze downward. “I’m sure I don’t remember this from my last visit here.”

  “That’s the bourbon flavor wheel, Goose’s brilliant idea. It’s only been installed for less than two years.” When Cara expressed how gorgeous the piece was, Harriet’s grin widened. “Goose proposed to me here, and we married here. And this is where Mack and Jorrie are getting married as well.”

  Harriet led Cara toward a door beyond the gift shop. Upon entering, she saw Hannah at the window on her phone, and Jorrie Jones and Jon Buckler standing together near a table laden with breakfast goodies.

  “Help yourself,” Harriet advised. “CiC
i sends her love but can’t be here because she’s an elected official. Bo will be joining us at some point.”

  “Really? I don’t even know him,” marveled Cara.

  “When Hannah told him about this, he said he’d drop by. He’s watching Ella today since Lila is sick, so I imagine he’ll only pop in to say hello.”

  “Who’s Ella?”

  “Angelica, Bo’s daughter. Ella’s the nickname everyone uses. Bo wanted to call her GiGi, but Lila had a fit when he tried that.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you remember Garnet Girl?”

  “The GarnetBrooke filly that won the Oaks one year?”

  “Exactly. Bo and Hannah loved the idea of calling her GiGi. Lila… not so much.”

  Harriet showed Cara to the food where she greeted Jorrie and Jon. Since Jon had taken the job as general counsel for Old Garnet, Cara had rarely seen him since his work no longer regularly brought him to the courthouse. They shook hands and chatted as Cara claimed a muffin and coffee before taking a seat.

  “Glad to hear you’re going for it,” Jon said in a low voice to her as he glanced at Hannah, who was at the window talking with Harriet and Jorrie about the latter’s wedding dress.

  “I am indeed,” Cara said. “I can’t believe Judge O’Toole finally retired.”

  Jon dipped his head closer to her shoulder. “Did Harriet mention to you the somewhat weird personal angle in this?”

  “Yes, I’m caught up on my gossip for once. I am fully aware that Garner Robson dumped the master distiller’s sister. Is that what you mean?”

  “Yeah. Just wanted you to be aware of that. I don’t like to think that there’s a revenge campaign going on here, but…”

  “But there is?”

  “Yes, a bit,” he admitted, his eyes on Hannah and speaking softly. “People around here are family in the literal sense but in the broader, emotional meaning as well. Walker Cain is now as much a part of the Davenport clan as if he’d been born into it. So when Hannah and Harriet heard about what happened with Nina… well, they weren’t happy, to put it mildly.”

  “Surely Walker didn’t tell them.”