The Chapel Car Bride

by Judith Miller

Hope gasped. “You really think Kirby would sell moonshine?”

  “Sure do. I don’t know who’s makin’ it for him, but I think he must have that truck all rigged up special to hide the shine. Worst of it is that he’s puttin’ you and Nellie in a lot of danger having you two in the truck with him while he’s makin’ those deliveries.”

  Hope shook her head. “But we only go to the churches and schoolhouses, while Kirby goes and delivers supplies to . . .” As her eyes widened, Luke nodded. “So you think when he drops us off at the church, he goes to deliver moonshine? He’s not going to help the needy?”

  Luke hiked one shoulder. “He might be stopping at a few houses and leaving some fabric or a sack of coffee, but his reason for leaving you and Nellie is so he can go to the speakeasies hidden out in the woods and deliver shine.”

  “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but why would he take such a chance? He could have most any opportunity he wants. His father must know every influential person in several states.”

  “I’m not one to give you an answer to that. Maybe he likes the excitement of doing something illegal, or maybe he’s tryin’ to get his pappy’s attention. I don’t claim to understand the likes of Kirby Finch, but I’m thinkin’ he’s playing with fire. If he’s cuttin’ in on the moonshine business of some of the men who live in these parts, he’s gonna find himself in deep trouble—and it won’t be just with the law.”

  Every word Luke spoke made sense, yet Hope didn’t want to believe Kirby would be so scheming and reckless. Her thoughts spun as she considered the many trips they’d made and the possibility they could have been stopped by revenuers or moonshiners.

  She gasped. “I just realized that if the revenuers had stopped Kirby and discovered the moonshine, Nellie and I could have been arrested.” She clapped a hand to her mouth and shook her head.

  “Don’t faint on me or the doc will need to take care of both of us.” Luke opened the door to the doctor’s office and followed her inside. “Besides, there’s no need to worry. You won’t be going with him again. As soon as we’re through here, we’ll go and talk to your father and seek his advice. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” she said.

  The cut had required only a brief doctor visit and a couple of stitches. When they left Dr. Burch’s office, the two of them made their way to the railroad station and then crossed the stretch of grass and thicket to the spur where the chapel car was situated.

  Her father’s eyes widened when they entered the chapel car. “Luke! What happened?” Before either of them could answer, he pulled out a chair for Luke. “Sit down. Was there trouble on the road? Not revenuers, I hope.”

  “No, no revenuers or moonshiners. Kirby took a turn too fast and we had a small accident, but I’m fine.” He glanced at Hope. “Thankfully, nobody else was injured.”

  Her father turned and looked her up and down. “You sure you’re not hurt?”

  “I’m fine. Luke needed a few stitches in his forehead, but the doctor said he’d be all right and even promised there wouldn’t be a scar to spoil Luke’s good looks.”

  Her father chuckled. “Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that. I wouldn’t want your handsome appearance ruined, Luke.” He inhaled a deep breath. “So, tell me what happened.”

  When Luke completed the tale, he leaned back in his chair. “There’s no doubt he’s haulin’ moonshine and selling to the speakeasies.”

  “You’re probably right, but the authorities would need more proof than a sniff test.” Her father’s brows knit together and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “You think Kirby would know how to make shine, or do you think he’s selling for someone else?”

  Luke pondered the question for a minute. “I don’t think he’d know how to set up a still and make shine, but I don’t think anyone in these parts would trust someone like Kirby to haul and sell their shine. I don’t judge him to be the kind of fella who’d want to take orders from anyone else—especially one of us hill folk. Maybe he got friendly with someone, who showed him how to set up a still.” He shook his head. “I’m just not sure ’bout none of it except that he had shine in that truck today.”

  Her father nodded. “Then we need to get some evidence and put a stop to whatever he’s doing before Kirby or someone else gets seriously hurt.”

  Luke swallowed hard. “Or killed.”

  Kirby drove the truck to the rear of the boardinghouse, parked, and then walked back to the mine. He couldn’t risk having Daniels or Farragut decide to drive the truck. They might smell the moonshine and search the vehicle. Though they’d been surprised to see him, neither man questioned his early return.

  Instead, Mr. Daniels asked his usual question. “Any word from your father? We keep hoping he’ll pay us a visit.”

  That was Daniels’s cloaked remark that really meant he wanted to visit personally with Kirby’s father. Although Daniels had been the manager for many years, he’d never made decisions without the owner’s approval. With Kirby’s arrival, Daniels seemed at a loss. There was no doubt he wanted to contact Kirby’s father, yet Kirby had given both of the men explicit orders they were not to call on his father. And since Kirby was Daniels’s acting superior, he hadn’t written the Pittsburgh office. Still, he never failed to let Kirby know he had misgivings.

  “My father has every confidence that, with you and Mr. Farragut, everything is being well managed here at the mine. He’s not planning any travel in the near future.” Kirby offered a half smile. “Rest assured, I’ve told him that you have matters in hand. I’ve kept him advised that you’re doing a fine job managing the men and he need not worry about a strike or unionization.”

  “W-what? I never said we didn’t need to worry about a walkout or unions. We’ve always had those concerns, and they’ve only increased since the cave-in.” He stared at Kirby, his expression one of confusion. “You know that. Why would you give your father a false report?”

  “Rumors of a walkout aren’t any greater now than they’ve been for the past several years, so there’s no need to worry my father.” Kirby touched his fingertips to his chest. “My father’s heart condition. The doctors say too much anxiety isn’t good for him.”

  Mr. Daniels’s eyes widened. “Your father has problems with his heart? I didn’t know.” He glanced at Mr. Farragut, who merely shrugged and shook his head.

  “My father is a private man when it comes to his health. I’m sure you understand that he wouldn’t want such information bandied about. The truth is, he’d be quite angry if he knew I’d told the two of you, but I know I can trust you both to keep a confidence.”

  Mr. Daniels stepped closer. “You can rely on us. And you’re absolutely right. We shouldn’t bother your father with our concerns here at the mine.”

  Kirby strode off with a wave and a smile of satisfaction. Those two old men were so easy to manipulate, it eliminated some of the fun. Even if someone held fire to their feet, they’d never mention his father’s supposed heart condition. While he himself had never possessed that level of loyalty, Kirby appreciated it in others. It made life so much easier for him.

  The remainder of the day passed with greater tedium than usual. Though he didn’t like to admit it, Kirby was still worried about the moonshine in the company truck. If there were leaking bottles and someone happened to pass nearby, they’d surely investigate. Yet it was the safest place he could park the truck. If he’d returned it to the usual spot near the office, his chances of being discovered were far greater. Besides, he’d never even seen anyone behind the boardinghouse.

  When the final bell rang and Mr. Daniels and Mr. Farragut departed for the day, Kirby released a sigh and headed for the door. He locked the office, then walked back to the boardinghouse. He hurried to the rear of the building and, after looking around, stooped to look beneath the bed of the vehicle and whispered an expletive. The ground was wet.

  While driving the truck back to the mine, Kirby silently reproached himself for his careless driving ear
lier in the day. He’d let anger get the best of him, but Luke should have known better than to try to tell him what to do. And now Luke had probably made him lose a customer. The owner of the speakeasy near Hopkins Fork was still without shine and might decide to do business with someone else unless he could make a delivery before morning. Even more worrisome was the nagging possibility that Luke had smelled the odor of moonshine. No telling what Luke might do if he thought Kirby was selling shine. Then again, maybe the two lovebirds had been too busy kissing to notice. Even so, he’d need to be extra careful.

  Kirby parked the truck and trudged through the thicket leading away from the company office. As he neared the still, he spotted movement in the brush. He quieted his breathing and stopped behind a pine tree. “Psst. Jimmy Ray! Is that you?” His voice was no more than a whisper.

  “Yep, it’s me.” The boy waved his hat in the air. “What you doin’ out here? Wasn’t expectin’ ya till later.”

  Kirby crossed the short distance between them. “We got a few problems. Come down to the truck with me.”

  While they were walking, Kirby recounted the day’s events. “We need to see how many bottles are broken and then see if you have enough to replace them. We can make a run over to Hopkins Fork as soon as we refill the crates.”

  Jimmy Ray began sniffing like a hound dog hunting a rabbit when they neared the truck. “Sure ’nuf. Ain’t no denyin’ that’s shine we’re smellin’. Better get to it.” He leaned down, unhinged and removed the cover of the hidden compartment, then leaned back. “Um-hum.” He shook his head. “Must be quite a few broken. You musta really hit that tree with a thud. I got lots of straw around them bottles.”

  Kirby ignored the remark and loosened the lids as Jimmy Ray removed each crate. Thanks to the young fellow’s packing method, none of the jars was completely shattered. Six needed to be replaced. They’d cracked around the lids, and some of the liquor had seeped out. Kirby sat back on his heels and surveyed the bottles and crates.

  This was all Luke’s fault. If he hadn’t been trying to give orders, Kirby would never have wrecked the truck. There had to be a way to get Luke out of his life once and for all.

  CHAPTER

  23

  Early the next morning, his shotgun resting on his shoulder, Luke cut through the grassy thicket on his way to the chapel car. Today, Luke and the preacher would set out in search of Kirby’s still. Both men were certain it must be hidden deep in the woods. Luke surmised Kirby would have located the still on company property so there’d be less chance of anyone nosing around. Luke wasn’t scheduled to work at the mine today, but Kirby should be there. He usually drove the women to Fern Hollow on Thursdays, which would give Luke and the preacher several days to search before Kirby made another run. At least that was their hope.

  Before he had an opportunity to knock, Hope opened the door into the living quarters of the chapel car and greeted him with a bright smile. She stepped to the side and gestured for him to come in. “You’re nice and early. Coffee?”

  He removed his cap as he entered. “Already had my breakfast and two cups of coffee. That’s my limit.” He nodded to the preacher. “Mornin’, Preacher. You all set?”

  Hope’s father pushed to his feet. “Believe I am.” He turned to face his daughter. “You remember what I told you, Hope. You stay away from Kirby until we get things sorted out. I don’t want to think he’d do anyone harm, but sometimes folks react just like animals. Get ’em trapped and they come out fighting.”

  Hope picked up a dish towel and began drying the breakfast dishes. “There’s no reason to worry. I don’t see Kirby during the day unless we’re going on one of our trips out of town. You two are the ones who need to be careful. You may find some unexpected moonshiners out there while you’re looking for Kirby.”

  “More apt to get ourselves shot by revenuers than moonshiners. I don’t think the moonshiners are brave enough to set up in the woods behind the mine. Most of ’em have their stills in the woods on the hill. The Finches own all the land ’round here, but the men living on the hill consider the woods up there to be theirs.” Luke shrugged his shoulders. “Not sure why, but it’s always been thataway.”

  Her father grabbed his hat and followed Luke to the door. “Remember what I told you—keep your distance from Kirby.”

  She stepped onto the platform. “I’ll do that. And you two remember to keep a good lookout. I don’t want anything to happen to either one of you.”

  Luke waved his hat overhead as they walked off, then glanced toward the preacher. “One good thing, we got us a fine day to go out in the woods.” He tipped his head back and inhaled a deep breath. “You can smell the air changing. Fall will be here afore we know it.”

  Reverend Irvine followed Luke’s lead and took several sniffs. “Believe you’re right. Seems like a big part of summer slipped right on by while I was recuperating. Nothing like living in the mountains during the fall season.”

  “That’s true enough. It’s downright pretty in the winter when the snow’s falling too, but the blowing wind and cold means keepin’ fires burnin’ day and night. That sure can take away from the pleasure.” He grinned. “’Course when I was a young’un, I couldn’t wait for the snow to fall. Me and the other boys would slide down the hillside on big ol’ pieces of cardboard we’d get from the general store.” He stared into the distance. “That seems like a lifetime ago, but not a whole lot has changed since then—leastwise not in these parts.”

  The two men continued talking until they’d drawn near the road leading to the mine when Luke motioned to turn in the opposite direction.

  The preacher glanced toward the mine, then back at Luke. “Did they move the mine? Last I knew, it was that way.” He pointed to the gravel road.

  Luke chuckled. “It hasn’t been moved, but we don’t want to be seen heading out to the woods. We’re gonna end up in the woods behind the mine, but we’ll be getting there a different way. Although it’ll take us a little longer, it’s safer this way.”

  The preacher nodded and said, “I’ll follow your lead. You’re the one who knows what’s best out in these woods.”

  Luke moved slowly through the thick underbrush and noted no signs of disturbance. He looked over his shoulder. “Hard to be quiet with all this overgrowth. It’s clear no one has cut through here. Even so, try to be as quiet as possible. I doubt we’ll come across the path being used by Kirby out this way, but you can’t never be sure.”

  “I’m doing my best.” The preacher kept his voice low.

  It was clear the preacher hadn’t grown up hunting in the woods. If there was a dry branch, it was tromped down by his heavy boot. The resulting cracks of wood caused Luke to flinch, but he said no more. The preacher was doing his best. They’d gone deep into the woods, then circled around. Now they cut back toward an area Luke thought might be a good space to hide a still.

  He turned around and waited until the preacher drew near. He pointed toward the spot. “I’m going to go down there and have a look around. Why don’t you stay here and keep a lookout? Watch from over there.” He nodded toward the left. “The mine is down that direction, and I’m guessing Kirby would come that way. I don’t expect him this time of day, though you can’t be sure. I won’t be able to see him coming when I’m down there.”

  The preacher narrowed his eyes. “You want me to holler if he comes? How can I warn you without . . . ?”

  Luke tapped the gun resting on his shoulder. “Turn in the other direction and shoot. Whoever’s out there will shout to get your attention. You holler back and apologize. Tell ’em you’re hunting squirrel and didn’t expect to see anyone this far out. That’ll give me time to get out of there and hightail it back to town. Then you do the same as soon as you’re able.”

  The preacher appeared a little worried, but Luke didn’t stick around long enough for the older man to object. Being careful not to slip, he descended the sloping hillock and surveyed the surrounding area. He studied a pile of
branches that appeared somewhat out of place, then turned his attention to examining the damp ground. There were footprints throughout the space, one set larger than the other. The larger set appeared to have been created by thick-soled work boots, while the other set looked as if it had been made by shoes rather than boots.

  Luke walked over to the mound of branches and carefully pulled aside several limbs. He sighed. This looked like quite an operation. An area had been molded into the hillside, and once the branches were placed over the opening, the still was protected from sight on all sides. The interior was larger than Luke had anticipated and not only housed a large still, but it provided storage for stacks of crates, jars, and heaps of corn. He shook his head. He doubted any of the locals would have established anything this large—or permanent. Fearing revenuers who stalked the woods, most of the local moonshiners moved their stills frequently and carried their supplies with them each time they made their shine.

  From the looks of this place, Luke surmised shine was being made most every day. Considering the supplies and location, he was sure Kirby owned the still, but who was making the shine? Most likely, Kirby didn’t possess the knowledge or have the time to come out in the woods every day and make shine.

  Luke dragged the branches back across the opening, then took one final look. He hoped his presence would go undetected. For now, he needed to get out of here. Whoever was working for Kirby could show up any minute.

  Once she’d finished drying the dishes, Hope stepped from the living quarters into the sanctuary portion of the chapel car where she could sort through teaching materials. She raised a few of the windows to allow for fresh air to blow through. Then, using the pews to hold the papers, she divided the materials according to the children’s different age groups. With both Nellie and Luke helping her when they visited the small communities, it had become much easier for her to divide the materials into separate boxes for the visits they would make in the coming week. Of course, she couldn’t be certain there would be any more visits, not if Luke’s suspicions proved true. And even if Luke was wrong, unless Kirby could get over the anger he’d exhibited upon their recent return from Denton, she doubted he’d be willing to provide their transportation any longer or that she and Nellie should accompany him.