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

by Jennifer Bramseth

  “Actually, she said that it would probably go more quickly because of the open seat situation.”

  “I’d think that if Garner has any pull at the JCC, he’d make the thing drag out as long as possible.”

  Cara dropped her head.

  “God, I’d never even thought of that possibility.”

  “Don’t do this, Cara,” he said, stepping toward her and kneeling. “Don’t shut me out.”

  She shuddered. “I don’t want to—but I can’t stand having you sucked into this. That never should’ve happened to you today, Drake. And I’m afraid. There, I said it. Elizabeth told me—”

  “Stop. Don’t tell me what your lawyer told you,” he cautioned. “You know you risk losing privilege.”

  “Of course,” she sighed. “Since you know you’re a witness in the complaint against me, I have to be extremely careful about what I say to you. See how hard this is going to be?”

  “So the solution to that problem is to shut me out? To leave me?”

  “I’m not leaving you! I love you…” Unable to continue, an avalanche of tears consumed her.

  Drake retook his seat by her on the swing and pulled her to his chest, where she continued to cry. “It feels like that, Cara. Like you’re leaving me for something else. Something you care more about.”

  She pulled her head off his chest. “Is that what you think? You think I’m choosing something else over you?”

  “No, it’s not what I think. I’m telling you how it makes me feel,” he said. “I guess I’m not being rational, but I realize that. I feel rejected, like—well—”

  “Like you did with Selena,” she said, finishing his sentence.

  “I don’t want to go down that kind of road again only to find disappointment. I’m afraid too.”

  “So that makes two of us. I’m afraid that this damned investigation and scrutiny could kill what we have together. But I’m afraid to continue seeing you as well. I don’t want to make you a possible witness against me. I don’t want you to have to suffer reading lies about yourself in the paper and to have your own integrity called into question. That could hurt your reputation and career.

  “But there’s something else. I want to be on the Court of Appeals. This could be my only chance—an open seat and the opportunity for an appointment. I never thought such a great thing could come my way so early in my judicial career. But now that it’s here and so close, I desperately want it. Maybe I just want to show myself I can do it, but I also want to be able to point to this and tell my son someday I fought, I survived, I persevered. I have to be that role model for him.”

  “You already are. Don’t you see that Nate will someday understand how you survived after Todd’s death?”

  “But I can never tell him everything about that time,” she said.

  “So you’re thinking he can’t appreciate how horrible it was for you to be a widow with a baby?”

  “I want to tell him someday I fought this fight. And won.”

  “You don’t have to fight every battle to be a hero.”

  “I want this, Drake.”

  He swallowed and closed his eyes. “So what does this mean for us?”

  “I think we both need to be able to say that we’re keeping our distance due to the investigation.”

  Drake pulled her tightly to him. He was crying.

  This was the worst part, the hurt she knew she was causing him. But Cara couldn’t see another way ahead.

  His lips moved to her temple, and Drake planted several small kisses there. She heard his breathing shift from that of sobs to something more measured and full of desire.

  “Let me make love to you tonight, Cara,” he said against her cheek. “Don’t leave me without that memory.”

  She thought to argue with him, to again protest that she wasn’t leaving him and it would not be their last time together but knew her words would ring false. His feelings were what mattered on that point, and she was not going to insult him by denying what he felt. And she would not deny herself the pleasure of his company or body.

  Her kiss was his answer, and he stood, offered her his hand, and led her silently to his bedroom. Standing near the foot of his king-size bed (a new acquisition of which she had happily approved), Cara watched as he went to the large bank of windows that lined the back of his bedroom. The room put her in mind of the rooms at the distillery, with the walls of windows affording views out the back of the visitors’ center toward Old Crow Creek and the nature preserve on the opposite bank.

  Drake opened the curtains, pulling them back to reveal the view they had been enjoying on the deck: Brush Grove Creek and the nature preserve in the distance, with the light of a quarter moon providing a thin layer of light over the now-familiar landscape. She joined him at the window and placed her hands on his face.

  “Never think that I don’t love you,” she whispered.

  “At least that means you’ll never forget me.”

  Soon his hands crept up her back as she wrapped her arms around his neck. As his lips found her neck, Drake undid her bra and slipped his hands around the front, placing his rough hands on her breasts for a moment before migrating lower to the button on her shorts. Her hands traveled to the same place on his body. After a few more tugs and unzippings, soon they both stood nude before the window, each stroking the other’s most sensitive place.

  “Bed,” she panted when Drake slipped a finger into her waiting wetness.

  “Go ahead and get in,” he said, nodding toward the bed. “I need to get something from the bathroom.”

  She understood what he meant, and she kissed him before he disappeared into the bathroom just beyond the window. Slipping into the sheets, she had just placed her head on the pillow when she heard Drake curse and some kind of movement from the bathroom.

  He returned and sat on the bed with his back to her, his profile dark against the light of the window. Hunched, he sighed.

  “I’m afraid I’m out of protection,” he announced. “Sorry.”

  She reached for him, putting her cool hand against his warm back. “It’s okay,” she said softly.

  He turned and moved into the bed beside her. “What are you telling me?”

  “I’m telling you that we don’t need to worry about that, at least for pregnancy prevention purposes.”

  Drake moved closer to her, his head inches above hers. “Are you not able—I’m sorry, that’s too much to ask.”

  “At this moment, nothing’s too much to ask, Drake. I had a tubal after Nate was born.”

  “Oh… oh,” he said, relief and regret in just those two syllables.

  “But you should know one more thing,” she added.

  “Yes?”

  She moved closer, placing her hands along his face. His cheeks were rough. He hadn’t shaved, but she didn’t mind. A few tender places on her body the following morning would be a bittersweet yet welcome reminder of their time together.

  “A tubal can be a reversible procedure.”

  It was a fact, a promise, a final answer to his question whether they had a future beyond this night.

  Her words produced what she had hoped: a sigh of relief and desire. She kissed him, her hands still aside his face, as his lips moved from hers down her body to her breasts, while one hand dipped lower, stroking her until Cara was so close she thought she might cry. His head moved lower, but she stopped him, needing to feel him, needing him to fill her.

  Drake reared up and sheathed himself inside her in one movement, the suddenness and completeness of his action pleasantly surprising her. But Drake’s face remained grave as he moved inside and then with her.

  God, she would miss this.

  Not just the intense physical intimacy but the emotional connection as well. And this was why she had tried so hard to stay away, to deny him, to deny herself. Because knowing what she’d lost would be an agonizing curse.

  Despite the grief, despite the pain, her body responded to him as it always did. Too soo
n, it seemed, she came against him, the climax accompanied by a sob so strong it hurt her chest. She felt him shudder and knew he was there with her, the pleasure mixed with the pain.

  He fell against her, Drake’s face against her shoulder, his tears on her skin. Cara wrapped her arms around him, wondering if the sweetness of this memory would be worth the bitter loneliness to which it would always be attached.

  17

  Cara loved fall, but that year the season felt as bleak as deepest midwinter.

  In the ensuing weeks since their last night together, Cara had only seen Drake intermittently, in around the courthouse in the halls and a few times at Over a Barrel. They exchanged small waves and nods but nothing else, leaving her sad, frustrated, and lonely. She had to remind herself the estrangement was of her choosing and for the best, but self-awareness did nothing to abate her loneliness.

  She had seen Selena Cormack a few times when she had to sit in Van Winkle County every other week. While the sight of the woman still made her ill, most of the anger had morphed into something resembling pity. Stupid woman. She’d given up something great with Drake to mourn something she would never have.

  But was Cara doing the same for ambition rather than love?

  Her mother thought she was being too severe, sacrificing too much for something that she may not ever have—a Court of Appeals seat. But Cara remained steadfast, even in the face of Nate whining to see Drake and go to the creek and the nature preserve.

  The weeks passed, with the governor still not making an appointment. Her mood swung from hopeful to despondent and back again on a regular basis.

  While the locals of Craig County had shown her nothing but support, and the Lexington newspaper appeared to be on her side, urging “caution in rushing to judgment on something so personal and important,” Cara still had plenty of black moments. The Courier-Journal had run a few more articles on various judicial races around the state and had published a companion piece on the judicial ethics system, with the unhappy focus on her particular case.

  Elizabeth had crafted a carefully written response to the complaint. Cara had to divulge excruciatingly personal details to her attorney, including the details of the first time she and Drake had kissed (back in May) and even the first time they had made love. Those particulars did not make it into the written response, but Elizabeth had pressed her for the information in case the Judicial Conduct Commission asked for more specifics. The mere possibility of such intimate revelations sent a chill down Cara’s spine and into a funk for several days.

  One early November Saturday, Cara got a call on her cell phone from Hannah, asking that she come to the distillery for lunch.

  “I haven’t seen or heard from you much lately. Just wanted to talk.”

  “I haven’t been getting out very much over the past few weeks. And I do need to talk to you about something.”

  Since they were not only friends but part of her campaign team, Cara had shared with Hannah, Harriet, and CiCi her decision to put the brakes on her relationship with Drake, at least temporarily. While the women all expressed doubt about her choice, they nonetheless supported her.

  She was aware that CiCi in particular again was making the extra effort to draw Cara out of her shell, often coaxing her to go to lunch at Over a Barrel, with Rachel and Brady tagging along on occasion. Cara very much appreciated those very personal yet public displays of support.

  And she appreciated Hannah’s efforts to keep her spirits up and accepted the invitation to lunch. Hannah told her to meet in the distillery café.

  “I’m sure there is an extra-large Applejack Garnet for you, unless you’ve sworn off those as well.”

  “Actually, I can’t remember the last time I had one.”

  “And come on out to Old Garnet and have yourself a treat.”

  Leaving Nate in her mother’s care, Cara drove north out of Bourbon Springs toward the distillery, the skies above her a deep, thick gray that produced a fine mist of rain. Despite the weather, the visitors’ center parking lot was full, and one tour bus was parked at the entrance, unloading a group of tourists.

  Once inside the lobby, Cara was in the midst of much hustle and bustle. Tourists milled about, gawking above at the dome and the hand-painted murals, as well as below at the bourbon flavor wheel. To the far left, Cara’s attention was captured by a crew adjusting a large live cedar, with Hannah and Goose directing the crew’s efforts.

  “Christmas already?” Cara asked as she approached them.

  “We decorate shortly after Halloween,” said Goose. “People like to come here and see the place all decked out for the season. And I love doing it. Nothing like Old Garnet decorated for the holidays.”

  “And it’s fun,” Hannah added, looking at the cedar in satisfaction as the workers made some adjustments to prevent the tree from tilting too much. She turned to Goose. “When will your crew have the lights on this thing?”

  “Within the hour,” Goose promised.

  “Perfect. I’ll be back after my meeting with this future judge of the Court of Appeals. Get the ornaments out.”

  Cara laughed, and Hannah went to Cara’s side, gave her a hug, and led her toward the conference room.

  “I thought we might eat in here,” said Hannah, opening the door to the room. “The café is awfully busy today, and I could certainly enjoy a bit of quiet.”

  Hannah had box lunches and drinks waiting for them. Hungry, Cara dove into a warm grilled cheese sandwich.

  One bite told her she was eating something very special.

  “How did you get bourbon into this?” she asked, her voice a high-pitched near giggle.

  “Goose came up with our own version of bourbon-infused butter. Slathered that on the bread before grilling the sandwiches.”

  “Goose whipped this up?” Cara asked, holding half her sandwich aloft.

  “Yep. He’s been on a bit of a creative culinary binge since the summer. Ever since he got into it with Drake at the concert. Goose can’t stand not being top dog, so to speak.”

  “Or bird, as the case may be,” Cara said, sending Hannah into a fit of laughter.

  “I have to admit, Goose’s latest creations are damned good. We’re going to start using that butter in the café next week when we put some holiday-related items on the menu,” Hannah announced.

  “Holiday items?”

  “How does bourbon-cranberry turkey salad sound?”

  “Like heaven. But how do you get the bourbon in that?”

  “Easy. Soak dried cranberries in bourbon,” Hannah said.

  They ate and talked about children, the upcoming holiday season, and Kentucky men’s basketball. Cara learned that Jamie already doted on his cousin Ella like a sister and felt very protective of her even though he was only fourteen months old.

  “We recently hired a joint nanny for them,” Hannah said. “Lucy wanted to spend more time with Albert. I take Jamie down to Bo and Lila’s house every day, where the nanny comes in the morning and stays through the day. Jamie didn’t like it at first since Lucy usually came to my house and Bo or Lila brought Ella up there. But it’s actually worked out better. Both Bo and I are closer to our kids since they’re on the distillery grounds and it’s easy to see them.”

  Hannah was almost finished with her sandwich and had started on her fruit salad.

  “I really should put Goose on the task of how to make a bourbon fruit salad,” she said, looking into the small foam cup of fruit, her fork poised over it and ready to spear a bite.

  “Thanks for inviting me here today, Hannah. I appreciate the opportunity to get out.”

  “You’ve been keeping to yourself too much although I can understand why. Any updates on the complaint front you can share?”

  “No, it’s just sitting,” Cara sighed. “But I have heard something. Well, Elizabeth did.”

  “Don’t pass it on if it’s privileged.”

  Cara smiled sadly, thinking of the last time someone had warned her in the sam
e way.

  “Actually, one of the reasons I wanted to come out today to tell you what I’ve heard. It’s one of those things that’s best told in person.”

  “This sounds like bad news.”

  “It is, I suppose, although it’s also come as a relief to me.”

  “So what’s this news?”

  “Elizabeth told me that she’d heard from someone in the governor’s office as well as someone at the attorney discipline board that the governor was going to appoint Garner to the seat this week. Apparently, it’s been a done deal for quite some time, but they wanted the attention focused on me to die down, to make it look like the governor really had to think about what he was going to do.”

  “If that’s the case, I don’t understand why the governor didn’t just go ahead and appoint him weeks ago, rather than leave you hanging on like this. So unfair.”

  “I’ve discovered that a lot of things are unfair.”

  “But it makes no sense politically,” observed Hannah. “If the governor was going to appoint Garner all along, he would’ve done it when it looked like the right thing to do, considering how you were trashed in the media. He’d have gotten a lot of good press for the so-called right decision at that time.”

  Cara shrugged. “Who knows? I can’t make sense of it any longer. I’m just glad that I’ll finally get an answer soon.”

  “Politics rarely make sense.” Hannah rose, looked out the window, and pursed her lips in apparent dissatisfaction. “Nasty day out there.”

  “And I should probably get on my way.”

  “You can’t go yet,” she declared. “You need to help us decorate.”

  “I should be on my way, really,” Cara protested, rising from her seat.

  “C’mon, Cara. It will be fun. No rug rats around, just grownups having fun. And you haven’t had your Applejack Garnet yet.”

  Hannah hectored Cara out of the room and into the bustling café. When a worker saw Hannah, she motioned to him and the worker came to the end of the line.

  “Two Applejack Garnets, please,” Hannah said. “Actually, come to think of it, make it three instead of two. I’m curious to see if Goose will eat it.”