Tennessee Whiskey

by Donna K. Ford

  Dane glanced back at the bottle of whiskey that seemed to whisper to her across the counter. Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea.

  Dane sipped her beer and watched the bartender, letting her imagination conjure images of her long lean body, her tan skin and muscle telling the story of hard work and quiet passion.

  She jumped when a young man theatrically plopped down on the barstool beside her.

  “Hey, Emma,” he said to the bartender with a wide innocent smile.

  She smiled back at him. “Hey, kid. You hungry?”

  “Yep. How about a beer and a bologna sandwich?”

  “Pimento cheese and pickles?” she asked.

  His smile widened. “Yep.”

  “Be right back,” she said before disappearing around the corner into the kitchen.

  He drummed his fingers on the counter keeping time with the music playing from an old jukebox in the corner. He sang along to the tune, his head bobbing gently.

  Dane smiled. She was amused by the young man. He seemed untouched by the evils of the world. He still carried the joy of a child. Dane tapped his shoulder. “Hey, you know her?” Dane asked, nodding behind the bar to where the woman had just been.

  The young man smiled. “Of course. Emma’s my sister.”

  Dane raised an eyebrow. “Really? What’s your name?”

  “Curtis,” he answered as if she should already know who he was.

  Dane raised her beer in salute. “I’m Dane. Dane Foster.”

  Curtis grinned.

  Dane looked up as Emma came around the corner and placed a plate of food and a beer in front of Curtis. She studied the two, trying to put the pieces together. There was a huge age gap between them, and Dane wondered if Emma was really the young man’s sister.

  “What have you been up to today, Curtis?” Emma asked, wiping her hands on a bar towel.

  He shrugged. “Nothin’ much,” he said through a mouthful of sandwich. “I went down to the river with a couple of the guys. There’s an old bus parked down there near Parson’s Creek. We nosed around there for a while, but we never saw nobody around.”

  Emma leaned over the bar. “You didn’t bother anything, did you?” She’d dropped her voice, but Dane could hear the urgency in her tone. “You know better than to mess with other people’s things.”

  Curtis shook his head. “We didn’t do nothin’. Promise. We was just lookin’.”

  Emma relaxed a little. “Okay, I believe you, but don’t go back around there, okay. I don’t want those boys getting you into trouble.”

  Curtis smiled. “You worry too much. I ain’t doing nothin’ wrong.”

  Emma placed her hand over his. “I know, sweetie. Just promise me you won’t go back there again.”

  “All right, I won’t go,” Curtis agreed, sounding disappointed.

  “Thank you.” Emma pointed to the empty plate. “Want another one?”

  Curtis smiled again. “Can I have onions this time?”

  Emma rolled her eyes and disappeared into the kitchen again.

  Dane was amused by the whole interaction. “Sounds like your sister looks out for you quite a bit.”

  Curtis turned to Dane, his eyes bright and cheery. “Emma’s always there for me.”

  “Why is she so worried?”

  “Aw, she’s always afraid I’ll get into trouble. She doesn’t like a lot of my friends. They get into a lot of trouble sometimes.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Dane asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

  Emma appeared with another sandwich for Curtis before he could answer. Emma glared at Dane. It seemed her distrust wasn’t just reserved for Curtis’s friends.

  Dane held up her empty bottle. “Could I have another, and how about one of those sandwiches?”

  Emma held Dane’s gaze without blinking. “Anything else?”

  “No, ma’am. I believe that’s all for now.”

  Dane talked with Curtis until Emma called for last call at midnight, learning all about his love for bologna sandwiches, peach cobbler, and riding through the mountain trails. She learned he and Emma lived together and she looked after him, and that his secret wish was to go to Alaska and pan for gold like the miners did in the old Westerns he still liked to watch on Sunday afternoon.

  When Emma turned out the neon signs hanging around the room, Dane picked up her bags and paid her bill with cash, making sure to leave a generous tip.

  Curtis eyed her duffel. “Where are you goin’?”

  Dane shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ll probably just sleep in my Jeep tonight.”

  Curtis frowned. “You could stay at our place. Emma won’t mind. She rents out one of the rooms sometimes when people need a place to stay for a while.”

  Dane glanced across the bar at Emma. She was stocking the coolers and didn’t seem to hear what Curtis had said.

  “I don’t know. She didn’t seem to like me much,” Dane said, honestly.

  Curtis laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll ask her.” He leaned over the bar. “Hey, Emma. Dane here doesn’t have a place to stay tonight. It’s okay that she stays at our place, right?”

  Emma looked up, obviously caught off guard by the question. “Curtis, we’ve talked about you bringing strangers home.”

  Curtis laughed. “Dane ain’t no stranger—she’s my friend.”

  Emma sighed.

  Dane lifted a hand and waved Emma off. “I don’t want to be a bother. If you could just tell me where I could find the nearest hotel, that will do.”

  “No way,” Curtis protested. “You don’t wanna stay there. It’s a bad place. You’d be better off sleeping in your Jeep.”

  Dane wondered what made the hotel so bad but really didn’t want to find out. She looked at Emma. “I’d be happy to pay for the room.”

  Emma sighed again. “Fine, but I don’t allow drugs or any other illegal activity in my home. If that’s what you’re into, you may as well go on to the hotel.”

  Dane shook her head. “No, ma’am.”

  Emma stared at Dane, still making up her mind. “Oh, all right. You can stay.”

  “Yes,” Curtis cheered.

  “Can I help you finish up here?” Dane asked Emma.

  “No, thanks, I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself,” Emma snapped.

  “I’m sure you are, just thought I’d offer a hand.” Dane was determined not to flinch, but Emma had a way of making her feel like she was facing a guard dog who was showing its teeth.

  Emma tugged her hair tighter through her ball cap and tucked the loose strands behind her ears. She looked tired, the kind of tired that said she hadn’t had enough sleep and had carried that chip on her shoulder for way too long.

  “I’d like to help,” Dane tried again. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Emma reached into a closet and handed Dane a broom.

  Dane smiled, taking the olive branch.

  Curtis joined in and they had the place closed up within an hour.

  “I’ll ride with Dane,” Curtis announced as Emma locked up.

  Emma pursed her lips in disapproval but didn’t say anything. She got into an old black Ford F-150 that looked like it had seen better days. It had rust around the fender wells and patches of Bondo dotted the side of the door and truck bed. By the look of things, there was no wonder why Emma rented out a room when she could. Dane didn’t imagine Emma made much money working at the bar.

  “Thanks for getting your sister to let me stay tonight,” Dane said to Curtis.

  “It’s no big deal. Don’t worry, Emma isn’t as scary once you get to know her a little. She takes care of everybody. You’ll like the house. My favorite part is the barn. I like to hang out in the hayloft and watch the birds build their nests. Did you know that barn swallows don’t land on the ground? They just fly through the air catching mosquitoes and flies and stuff. But they like to live in the barn.”

  Dane was getting a pretty clear idea why Emma worried so much about Curtis. She imagined it
was easy to take advantage of his childlike nature.

  “Maybe you can show me the barn tomorrow,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t want to give her the tour tonight.

  “Sure. Hey, that’s us up here on the right.”

  Dane followed Emma’s old truck down a long winding dirt and gravel drive. An old farmhouse stood like the petrified bones of an ancient dinosaur. There was a large yard in the front, and the old barn was to the left. Its entry had no doors and looked like a large gaping black mouth swallowing up the night. The whole property was surrounded by trees. Floodlights flashed on as they approached, illuminating the weathered old porch. An empty porch swing swayed gently at one end.

  Dane shivered. If she was the paranoid type, she’d imagine she had just stepped into a horror flick. She followed Curtis up to the house. An old dog lay on the porch with his back against the door. The boards of the steps creaked under her feet as she walked up onto the porch.

  Emma reached down and touched the old dog to wake him. His fur was mottled, black and brown with patches of yellow. His face and muzzle were completely gray. He looked as if he had been here as long as the house.

  Curtis reached down to pet the dog too. “Samson can’t hear anymore, so he lies against the door so he knows when we get home.”

  Dane smiled. “Smart dog.”

  Emma unlocked the door, glancing back at Dane. “How long will you be staying?”

  Dane shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not even sure where I am exactly. I’m trying to find my mother’s family. They live around here, I think.”

  “Well, it’s twenty-five a night, or one twenty-five a week. That will include meals if you’re here when we eat. Breakfast is at nine, lunch is at one, and dinner is at the bar every night except Monday. I’m closed on Monday, so we eat here at the house at six.”

  “Okay. I’ll just go ahead and pay you for the week, and we can see from there.”

  Emma gave a single nod in agreement. She pushed the door open and led them into the house.

  Dane noticed the smell of lavender in the air the moment they stepped into the room. The place was old, and the furnishings were well worn from years of use, but the place was clean and homey in an old-fashioned way. It was like everything else she’d seen so far. The whole place was like a page out of history.

  Emma waved a hand, pointing around the house. “The kitchen is to the right and there’s a bathroom at the end of the hall. Your room is upstairs, the third door to the right.”

  Dane looked up the stairs, counting the doors at the top of the landing.

  “I’ll show her,” Curtis said cheerfully.

  “There’s another bathroom at the top of the stairs, so you don’t have to come all the way down here,” Emma continued.

  Dane fished her wallet from her back pocket and handed Emma the payment for the room. “I had considered trying to get you to take me home with you, but this isn’t exactly what I had in mind. Thank you for letting me stay.”

  Emma rolled her eyes and took the money. “Don’t make me regret it.”

  Dane frowned as Emma turned and walked into the kitchen. She almost changed her mind about the room. Emma was beautiful, but the cold shoulder had a bite. Dane wasn’t happy about staying where she wasn’t wanted. She’d had warmer welcomes in third world countries, where people barely had what they needed, let alone something to share.

  “You comin’?” Curtis asked, already halfway up the stairs.

  Dane looked up at his eager smile. At least Curtis was happy she was there. One night couldn’t hurt. “Sure. Lead the way.”

  * * *

  Emma closed the door to her room and secured the lock. She never liked having strangers in the house. Why hadn’t she just said no? She closed her eyes and sighed. Dane, who ever she was, was trouble. She could feel it. She saw it the moment Dane walked into the bar. She was a stranger here, and strangers in these parts meant they were looking for trouble or bringing trouble. Leave it to Curtis to bring trouble home. Dane certainly didn’t fit in here. She wore her hair short, and her clothes looked a little worn, but Emma would bet they were professionally cleaned. The Jeep Dane drove still had dealer tags and didn’t quite fit Dane’s tailored look. Emma didn’t know why Dane was here, but it was clear she didn’t belong.

  She looked up at the ceiling, listening to the creak of the floorboards as Dane walked overhead. Emma wondered what she was doing. There wasn’t much in the house worth stealing, but she doubted Dane would take anything—she had her own money. Dane didn’t need the worthless trinkets left behind by their mother. There weren’t any pills to find in the medicine cabinets, and no other drugs in the house. But Emma doubted drugs were Dane’s game. She was a hard one to figure. Maybe she was a cop. Emma frowned. That could be it. If Dane was a cop, she wouldn’t last long here.

  Emma tracked the sounds of Dane’s movements until she was certain Dane had gone to bed, before kicking off her own boots and clothes and crawling beneath the covers. It had been another long day, and tomorrow would be no different. She’d have to talk to Curtis about Dane. She didn’t want him getting too attached or mixed up in whatever Dane was up to.

  Dane might talk the talk of a country girl, but she looked like city with a little dirt on her shoes. She was a little too thin, and there were shadows lurking in her eyes. She had a weariness about her that told Emma she was running from something or hiding something. She had been quietly attentive to everyone in the bar, and her confidence kept the predators in their seats, content to stalk her from a distance. If Dane stuck around, that distance wouldn’t last long. If she was a cop, she was in for a world of trouble from the locals. No one liked outsiders here, but cops from elsewhere were hated above all. This was the kind of town that didn’t trust the government, and even the local cops didn’t like to share with strangers.

  Emma sighed and burrowed deeper under the covers. It seemed she’d only just closed her eyes when she heard the rooster crow. She squeezed her eyes tight and pulled the quilt over her head. “One more hour,” she pleaded. Was just one more hour too much to ask?

  The rooster crowed again. “Guess so,” she mumbled as she threw back the quilt and pushed her legs over the edge of the bed. She sat there for a moment, putting off the day. A familiar smell began to fill the room. She frowned. Coffee?

  Emma pushed her feet into her slippers and pulled on her father’s old robe. She stopped at the dresser and ran a brush through her hair before making a quick trip to the bathroom.

  Dane sat at the kitchen table sipping a cup of coffee. The shadows beneath her eyes said she hadn’t slept much, and her hair stuck up slightly on one side. She wore a black T-shirt and loose-fitting black sleep pants.

  “Good morning. I hope you don’t mind that I made the coffee,” Dane said as Emma walked into the room.

  Emma poured her coffee and took a seat across from Dane. Dane was staring at her. “What?” Emma asked.

  Dane shrugged. “Nothing. Just getting an idea what it would be like to wake up with you in the morning.”

  Emma scowled. “Are you always this obnoxious?”

  Dane gave a look of mock surprise. “Come on, the coffee isn’t that bad.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “Look, you can rent the room, but that’s all you get. So give it up. I get enough of those stupid pickup lines at the bar.”

  Dane grinned. “I bet.” She nodded to Emma’s cup. “How about more coffee then?” She stood and brought the carafe to the table, filling Emma’s cup and then her own.

  Emma watched Dane, her eyes riveted to the scars marring Dane’s left hand, snaking up her arm in a mass of twisted flesh as if the skin had been melted. She wondered what had happened to cause the burns. She stifled the urge to reach out and touch Dane’s arm, as if the scars on her skin would give up Dane’s secrets.

  She looked away when Dane sat the carafe on the table. She scolded herself for letting curiosity get the best of her. She sipped her coffee, searching for something to cover f
or her wandering thoughts. She wasn’t used to having anyone in the kitchen, and no one ever bothered to make coffee. “Thank you.” She blew across the steaming brew, studying Dane. She met Dane’s gaze, deciding on a direct approach. “Why are you here?”

  Dane looked confused by the question.

  “Jellico is a small place. We don’t have a lot to offer people here. There are no jobs, and there’s nothing to do here aside from hunting, fishing, driving around the woods, and drinking. It’s not exactly a vacation hub if you know what I mean.”

  Dane shrugged. “I don’t know the answer exactly. My mother and her family were from around here. She died when I was young. I’ve been traveling for a while. I needed a change. I thought it would be nice to learn more about her, where she was from, what her family was like. I was tired and just happened to stop at your bar. End of story.”

  Emma wasn’t convinced. Dane might have stopped here by chance, and maybe her story was true, but there was more—she could see it in Dane’s eyes as clear as her own reflection in the still waters of the pond. “A change from what? What are you running from?”

  Dane shook her head. “Haven’t you ever wanted to push the pause button on your life and take a minute to find out what else is out there, what you’re missing?”

  Emma pushed away from the table, avoiding the question. “Whatever you’re up to, leave Curtis out of it. He’s a good kid. He’s been through a lot and he doesn’t need to be drawn into whatever trouble you’re in.”

  Dane met Emma’s gaze. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. I just needed a break from my life for a while. If you don’t want me here, I’ll go.”

  Emma considered telling Dane to leave, but she really needed the money for the room. And if Dane was going to be in the area, Curtis would find her anyway.

  “You don’t have to leave. I’m just asking you not to drag my family into any trouble. There’s enough of that going around already.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  Emma sipped her coffee. “Never mind that.”

  Footsteps on the stairs alerted them that Curtis was up. He bounded into the room like a child on Christmas morning.