Bo stood and walked to her side. “I like the fall color, but when it’s gone—like it is now—I can’t stand it. And I’m not a fan of the cold and dark, either. Warm weather—that’s what I like. That’s when the bourbon is in the barrel staves, soaking up all that good wood. When it’s this cold, all it can do is sit there in the barrel, waiting for the next warm spell to expand back into the oak.” She saw Bo glance in the direction of the old rickhouse.
“My parents died in early November,” Lila revealed. “And then my husband died the next November, just days before Thanksgiving.”
“My father died the week before Thanksgiving,” Bo said.
“Oh, I had no idea.” She was embarrassed for wallowing in her own sad circumstances and not considering Bo’s feelings. “Your mother never mentioned it today.”
“Well, she’s not over losing him, I assure you of that. I don’t think any of us will be over that loss. But she keeps on going despite the grief. That first year, right after he died, we didn’t have a Thanksgiving. She was an absolute wreck—we all were. And when the holiday rolled around again, Hannah and I wondered how she was going to cope. She was sad, but told us a few weeks before the anniversary of his death that we had to go on, that life went on, and that at least we had each other.”
“Yes, at least you had each other,” she repeated. Lila looked down toward the water and felt a tear roll down her cheek.
“Have you spent every holiday alone since you lost them?”
“Yes,” she said, and turned her head left and glanced south in the direction of her property. In doing so, she turned away from Bo. After a few seconds, he put a finger under her chin and moved her face back toward him. She expected him to lean in for a kiss, but he didn’t and dropped his hand after she was looking at him once more.
“If you ever need someone to talk to about what you went through, I think my mother would love for you to bend her ear,” he said.
She had been convinced he was going to try to make another move on her—why else take her on a walk along a creek in the waning light of a Thanksgiving Day? It was classically romantic. But he’d only offered her a bit of company and advice. She knew he craved her company—and much more from her—but on that day, all he wanted to do was to help.
“I think I’d like that, if she wouldn’t mind talking about something so personal,” Lila said.
“You’re talking about my mother, remember? No one’s a stranger to her. She’ll talk to anyone about almost anything.”
Lila put a hand to Bo’s face and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
“Thank you,” she said, and kept her hand on his cheek.
They remained like that for a few seconds and she wondered what the next step would be. Bo took it for them. He put his hand on top of hers and pressed her small palm to his cheek. Then he dipped his head to hers and planted several soft, light kisses on her lips.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Lila,” he said, and he pulled her to his chest where she snuggled against his parka.
They stood there together on the bank for several minutes, listening to nothing but the water and the rustling of leaves as the sun dipped lower and the day expired.
Chapter 9
Bo didn’t understand why he had to show up in court that day. From Jon’s description, it sounded as though it was going to be nothing but a bunch of arguing back and forth between the lawyers, and Bo didn’t want a front row seat for such a performance. But Jon said the hearing was significant and that Bo needed to show his face to the judge. Since both Rachel and Brady had recused from the case because they knew the parties, a special judge from another county had been appointed to hear the matter. As a result, things went slower (at least that’s what Jon had said when Bo complained about the pace of the proceedings). Today was the first time since both suits had been filed that Bo would be in court and come face-to-face with the judge. Since Jon had told him that it was crucial to be there, Bo knew that he would probably see Lila. If the hearing was important, it had to be important to both parties in the case.
Yet when Bo walked into the courtroom and looked around, he only saw Drake Mercer, Lila’s attorney, at the opposite table in front of the bench.
“Where’s Lila?” Bo asked Jon.
“Drake told me she couldn’t be here since she’s at work. That’s why I wanted you to be here. It will look good that you showed and she didn’t.”
Bo didn’t like the idea of looking good at Lila’s expense. If he’d known that was one of the purposes of his attendance in court that morning, he would not have appeared. Furthermore, he did have a distillery to run, and Walker had wanted to talk to him about the idea for Garnet Reserve again. Bo had kept putting him off, but was leaning toward telling his master distiller that he didn’t want to start a new product line, at least not until the land issue could get resolved, an answer he expected to dissatisfy Walker.
Jon went over to where Drake sat and talked with him for a few minutes, leaving Bo alone with his confused thoughts. He wasn’t sure why he was there and Lila wasn’t. Well, he wasn’t so much confused as mad since he felt cheated. He’d gotten all dressed up in his best suit—even had the thing dry cleaned—because he’d been looking forward to seeing her. It had been two weeks since Thanksgiving and they’d had no contact since that time. He hadn’t expected that they would talk or go out to lunch after the hearing, but now he wouldn’t have even the minor thrill of seeing her and felt tricked into showing up. Bo had mentioned to Jon that Lila had come over for Thanksgiving, and Jon had repeatedly told him that they shouldn’t be talking about the lawsuit. Bo said that rarely came up, and if it did, they went on to another subject, which more or less was true. Jon wasn’t satisfied and told Bo to be very careful—for them all to be careful, especially Hannah, since she was an attorney and there was an ethics rule which prevented attorneys from talking to opposing parties known to be represented by counsel. Bo told him that Lila had become a friend of the family, which Jon found hard to believe until he suggested he call Emma and Hannah for confirmation.
The judge came in and a bailiff opened court, ordering everyone to rise and remain standing until the judge took his seat. The proceedings began, but Bo was distracted and irritated by Lila’s absence and he didn’t pay attention to what was going on. The attorneys eventually started arguing about access to Lila’s land, and Bo’s interest was finally piqued.
“Your honor, we request you enter an order specifically allowing our surveyors to be able to go onto the subject and contested property for purposes of conducting our own surveys,” Jon said.
“You got a problem with that, counsel?” the judge asked Drake Mercer.
“We’ve tried to agree on the terms, your honor, but we haven’t been able to get there. Our concern is the springs. We don’t want people tramping around in that area. They are vulnerable and pristine, and my client has a very serious concern about allowing access to them.”
“These springs—why are they important?” the judge asked.
“They’re historic,” Drake said, and gave a little history lesson, no doubt straight from Lila’s own notes. Drake recounted to the judge how Indians had lived around the springs, and told the story that the town of Bourbon Springs had been established at the site over two centuries earlier, about the same time of the first confirmed historical accounts of distilling in the vicinity. There were also documented incidents involving clashes between Civil War soldiers looking for water at the springs in the days prior to the Battle of Perryville, which occurred about twenty-five miles south of Bourbon Springs (a battle which had been precipitated by the ongoing search for water by both armies in the midst of a scorchingly hot and dry October in 1862).
Bo tugged at Jon’s sleeve.
“Your honor, may I have a moment to speak with my client?” Jon asked, and the judge readily agreed to a short break in the proceedings.
“I’ve never even been to the springs,” Bo said, and reported that Lila had shown the sp
rings to Hannah, and that Lila allowed her classes to go there. “I think it would be better if I went and saw them first before we asked for surveyors to be allowed access.”
And that’s what Jon did, pointing out (to Bo’s regret) that Lila had allowed Hannah and high school students access but had denied him the same.
“Well, I’ll enter an order for now that allows surveyors on the land, except for the springs, but that Mr. Davenport is to be allowed onto the property for the purpose of viewing the springs.”
“Your honor, we would request that Mr. Davenport not be allowed to go whenever he wants whenever he wants. He should set up an appointment with my client so she or someone she designates can accompany him to view the springs,” Drake said.
“That’s fair enough,” the judge agreed. “Draw up an order and try to agree on the language. I agree that Mr. Davenport should be allowed to view the springs, but with supervision, and only once under my order. If Ms. McNee wishes to allow him further access, she may voluntarily do so, but my order will only require the one time and the visit should occur within one month, unless good cause is shown, such as bad weather on the agreed date. In the meantime, counsel, is there any progress to report on the settlement of this thing? This case really ought to be resolved. Do I need to send you folks to a mediator? Because let me tell you right now, I’m leaning in the direction of deciding that the property line is somewhere between what the parties want. I’d prefer they came to that conclusion themselves rather than be mad at me for splitting the baby, so to speak.”
Bo tuned everyone out. He was moderately pleased that he was finally going to see the springs, but any sense of victory he felt was diminished by the fact that Lila would be furious with the judge’s order. He knew he shouldn’t have mentioned that part about Hannah seeing the springs; now it was going to look like Lila was being stubborn about letting him onto the land, and that he had wanted the judge to see her that way.
Court was adjourned and all stood. As he watched the judge disappear into chambers, the judge’s words and Hannah’s prediction about the likely outcome of the case echoed in his mind, and Bo knew he should’ve listened to his sister’s sound advice and dismissed the suit when he had the chance.
“Well, no, I don’t throw people in jail for jaywalking,” Judge Rachel Richards said in response to a student’s question.
Laughter rippled through Lila’s classroom.
“OK, now,” Lila said in her best schoolmarmish tone, “who has another question? A serious question?”
Judges Rachel Richards and Brady Craft as well as Craig Circuit Court Clerk CiCi Summers were all visiting Lila’s eleventh-grade government class to talk about the court system. This wasn’t Lila’s favorite class to teach. Her true passion was history, particularly American history, but she had to teach other classes like government or political science as well. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the subject material; it was OK. But history was so much more interesting to her, especially since Bourbon Springs sat within easy driving distances of so many historic sites in Kentucky, including the state capital, Abraham Lincoln’s birthplace, and the site of the Battle of Perryville. History was all around them, and Lila saw it as her mission to show her students a bigger world by showing them the world of the past.
A student raised her hand.
“Yes, Maddie?” Lila asked.
“I have a question for Ms. Summers,” the dark-haired girl said.
CiCi perked up. No one had asked her a question that day, and she looked happy to finally get a slice of attention.
“How did you become the clerk? Did you have to go to school or something?”
CiCi shook her head, causing her abundant brown curls to bob around her head. “No, but I do have a degree in English and an MBA,” she said. “After I graduated, I came back to Bourbon Springs to work with my mom. She was the clerk before me. And then when she died, I got elected.”
It was CiCi’s sad tale, which most people already knew. As a result, she rarely had to talk about it.
“So you succeeded your mom as clerk?” the girl asked.
“Yes,” said a subdued CiCi, a rare sight.
“That’s really cool,” the girl said. “And then you got elected on your own?”
“Yes,” CiCi acknowledged, looking a little pumped up by the girl’s excitement.
A few more students had questions for the judges, and then the hour was up. The kids were out of the room almost as soon as the bell stopped ringing, leaving the adults laughing and chatting in their wake.
“Thanks for doing this, you guys,” Lila said. “I really appreciate it.”
Lila was gathering up some of her books and materials and throwing them into her bright purple backpack.
“It was fun,” Brady said.
“Call us if you’d like us to speak again,” said Rachel.
The judges excused themselves because they both had hearings back at the courthouse, leaving CiCi to watch as Lila tossed her belongings into her pack with a little more gusto than the task required.
“What did that backpack do to you, Lila?” CiCi asked.
Lila’s shoulders slumped and she sighed. “Sorry, I’m a little wound up.”
“That’s obvious,” CiCi said, and seemed to wait for an explanation.
“I have an appointment to show the springs on my land to Bo Davenport,” Lila said, and zipped up the backpack and went to the corner to get her coat off the coat rack. She had finally gotten herself a new coat—a bright blue parka with a hood, so goodbye to that frizz-inducing hat.
“An appointment? You sound like a real estate agent,” CiCi said, leaning on the edge of Lila’s desk and crossing her arms over her chest.
“Not really. The judge has ordered me to do it.”
“Well, that kind of sucks,” CiCi said, “especially if you didn’t want to do it in the first place.”
“And I most certainly did not,” Lila snapped and pulled on her parka. “Thing is, he told the judge that I let Hannah see the springs last summer and that I wouldn’t show them to him.”
“Sounds petty.”
“Exactly what I thought,” Lila said. “But if it will keep the surveyors out of the springs, it will be worth it. I only have to show him the springs this one time, so he’d better damned well enjoy it.”
Lila switched off the light and exited the room with CiCi, then slammed the classroom door behind them.
“It would seem,” CiCi observed as the two women walked down the school hallway, “that Bo’s chances of enjoying himself today are pretty low.”
Bo was to meet her at the entrance to the springs at three o’clock, and Lila had to rush home from school to make it in time to meet him. The traffic on the eastern side of Bourbon Springs in the midafternoon was bad since the high school, middle school, and one of the county’s elementary schools all sat on a massive campus together and released within minutes of each other, and the county hospital, another traffic magnet, was across the road. As a result, Lila was almost late for her appointment with Mr. Davenport. She assumed that he would simply walk over from his property to meet at the top of the woods that ensconced the springs.
Wrong.
From a great distance, she spotted him bouncing toward her in a four-wheeler, and she grew increasingly angry with every foot he drew nearer. He drove right to her, parked the damned atrocity, and hopped off.
“How dare you drive that thing on my land!” she screamed at him once he had turned off the engine.
“What’s wrong?” Bo said. “I thought bringing this over made more sense than the SUV and then hiking out here in the cold.”
“I never gave you permission to ride over on that—that thing!”
“The judge gave me an order, Lila,” Bo threw back.
“That order said nothing about that!” she said, and pointed to the four-wheeler.
“What’s the problem?”
“The problem?” she cried. “The problem is that those things are
a menace to society, that’s what! They tear up the land!”
“I just drove it over here once, Lila,” he said sheepishly and zipped up his parka to the neck. It was a bitterly cold December day, windy, with absolutely no chance of seeing the sun.
“And you’ll have to drive it back, won’t you?” she hissed. “I never want to see that thing again on my land,” she announced.
“Well, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Bo asked. “We’re here to figure out who owns what.”
Lila felt her face burn; he’d gone too damn far. He not only had made her angry, but he’d also directly challenged her right to her land as they stood on the very ground.
Lila turned and walked into the thickness of the dark woods. “Follow me. And stay on the trail,” she snapped.
Chapter 10
Bo did as she ordered and once into the trees he realized that they had made a mistake in scheduling this little jaunt so late in the afternoon in December. The canopy, a mixture of deciduous and conifers, was thick and blocked a lot of light. He was glad that Lila was wearing a bright blue coat because if she’d been wearing that dark green thing she usually wore, he knew she would be nearly impossible to spot through the dimness.
They moved along in silence, with Bo closely following her along the track that she seemed to intuitively sense was there. He couldn’t see any worn path, but figured that could be because it was so dark and, of course, Lila knew this land like the back of her hand. After no more than ten minutes of hiking, he could tell that the trees were starting to thin and he could discern some kind of clearing directly ahead. Even so, it still took a few minutes to reach the open area. Lila moved ahead of him into the space where the trees parted, and immediately walked to a raised, rocky outcropping which towered over the entire vicinity.
Before he could join her, she put her hand out and barked at him to stop. He had barely emerged from the trees.
Angels' Share (Bourbon Springs Book 3) Page 8
