Angels' Share (Bourbon Springs Book 3)

by Jennifer Bramseth

  Bo put the garbage bag against the back door and scratched his chin. “If I call her, she’ll say no,” he said. “But if I show up on her doorstep, unannounced, there’s a chance she’ll take the food.”

  Emma nodded. “I usually wouldn’t agree with just dropping in on someone like that since it could be considered rude, but under the circumstances, I think you’re exactly right,” she said, and winked in approval at his little scheme.

  Emma packed enough food to feed Lila for a week or more. She wrapped up ham and turkey slices, several different kinds of casseroles, half a dozen rolls, fruit salad, and steamed veggies. And Lila would not be lacking for something sweet to snack upon, if she so desired: bourbon pecan pie, four kinds of cookies (two varieties containing bourbon), three kinds of fudge (one variety containing bourbon), and hard candies (no bourbon) were also included in Emma’s Christmas care package. The food was so abundant that it took three plastic shopping bags to contain it. Bo put the goodies on the passenger side floor of his SUV, thanked his mother, and headed next door.

  As he drove onto the property, Bo spotted Lila’s truck so he knew she was around. He just hoped that his hunch would be right: that she’d resist the offerings of holiday goodness, but eventually relent and allow him to deliver the food. Even if he was only there for a short time, he’d take it because he wanted to see her. It had been about a week since he’d last talked to her at the distillery with her students, and a quick Christmas kiss from Lila would be a most welcome gift, if he could be so lucky.

  Bo parked in front of the house and walked up the stairs to the front door. He didn’t bother getting the food out of his SUV yet, on the off chance that Lila would refuse to open up and he’d be stuck standing with an armload of stuff. He knocked and knocked, but no one came to the door, and he got more and more irritated as he sensed he was being ignored. Had she seen him coming and holed herself up in some part of the house? He wouldn’t put it past her to do such a thing, but something told him that wasn’t what was happening and he started to worry.

  With the wind viciously lashing his face, Bo walked back to his truck and something in the far left of his peripheral vision caught his eye. Turning toward the springs, he saw movement near where the trees met the fields, and he spotted Lila slipping into the woods. Had she seen him and fled to her sanctuary? Angry that she would rebuff him on Christmas Day, he decided to put that question directly to her.

  He set off across the field and it took him only about five minutes to get to the trees; there was no snow on the ground nor was it so cold that it made walking uncomfortable. He found the spot where the forest had absorbed Lila into its midst and followed her path along the slightly trodden grasses and leaves. It was difficult to keep to the barely-discernible trail, but he managed since he had a decent sense of direction and could tell that he was heading downhill slowly, toward the springs and Old Crow Creek.

  After about five minutes in the thick of the trees, he finally saw the wide clearing ahead where the springs burst forth from the land. But when he stepped into the little glade, he got goosebumps at once and didn’t see Lila anywhere. That feeling of worry and unease he had when he’d been on her doorstep magnified inside his gut.

  Then he saw the reason for his fear: Lila was sprawled on the ground, at the point that overlooked the entire springs.

  “Lila!” Bo screamed, and ran to her, but she did not stir.

  He was at her side and on the ground in seconds. Bo kept calling her name, and she seemed to move a little but could not otherwise be roused awake. He checked her head; she wasn’t bleeding and it didn’t appear she’d tripped and fallen. Lila knew this place too well to let something like that happen to herself. Bo put his head to her chest and heard her heartbeat, and then he took her pulse. He knew he shouldn’t move her in case she had seriously injured herself.

  He saw her move again, and groan, signs that cheered him.

  “Lila? Can you hear me?”

  Her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to gain consciousness. Lila’s eyes fixed on his face, then squinted.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked weakly.

  “Forget that! What happened to you?”

  Her eyes roamed her surroundings. “I came out here and—I’m not sure. I haven’t had much to eat today, I suppose.”

  “You fainted,” he said, and was relieved that it wasn’t any more serious. If she’d hiked out here on an empty stomach, it was little wonder that she’d passed out. “Do you think you can stand up?”

  “I—I’ll try,” she said, and reached for him.

  Bo helped her put her arm around him and he pulled her to her feet. She was unsteady, and her large parka and heavy hiking boots weighed her down.

  “Can you walk?” Bo asked. Lila took a tentative step and her knees buckled, but Bo caught her at once and picked her up. “To hell with this,” he said, angry and upset to find Lila in such a predicament. “I’ll carry you back.”

  Lila made a mild protest, but put her arms around his neck as her head fell onto his shoulder. She weighed practically nothing; even though the walk was long back to the house, Bo did not get tired by toting her the entire distance.

  “Backdoor,” she whispered as they neared the home.

  Bo kicked the door open, and they emerged into her welcomingly warm and well-lit kitchen. By that time, the sun was below the treeline in the west over the state nature preserve, and the cold and dark was palpable and closing in to end the day.

  Not knowing where to put her, Bo wandered around the first floor with Lila cradled in his arms, and finally walked into a small sitting room at the front of the house. He spotted an overstuffed couch and deposited Lila there. After covering her with a few old crocheted afghans, he told her to stay put because he was going out to his SUV to get something.

  “Emma sent me food, didn’t she?” Lila muttered against her covers.

  “Of course she did,” Bo said, and wondered whether Lila could appreciate the irony of her situation.

  “I should’ve expected it,” Lila said, and closed her eyes.

  “Did you see me coming down the road before you went to the springs?”

  “No, I didn’t. So if you think I was trying to avoid you, the answer is no.”

  “And now you’re not going to be rid of me until I see you eat. I’ll be right back.”

  In two trips to his SUV, Bo retrieved the three bags of food and took them to the kitchen. He didn’t bother asking whether she wanted to eat, and decided to take a plate to her on the couch and watch her as she put some nourishment into her stomach. As he was warming up the rolls, Lila appeared in the doorway of her kitchen.

  “Bo, you don’t have to do this,” she said as she shuffled into the kitchen with one green afghan wrapped around her like a robe.

  She still looked very unsteady on her feet and Bo dropped what he was doing and helped her to a chair at the kitchen table.

  “I think you should probably be back on the couch, but go ahead and sit down since you’ve made it this far,” he told her as she sat.

  “Stop fussing over me,” she said.

  “Too late,” Bo replied, and put the plate in front of her. He got her a glass of water and put it on the table along with the warmed-up rolls. “Eat,” he ordered.

  Lila looked down at the plate. There was a mountain of food, and he knew there was no way she could eat even half of what he had put together for her.

  “How much do I have to eat before you’ll leave?” she asked.

  He took a seat next to her. “What a nice way to show your gratitude.”

  “Sorry, just don’t feel that great.”

  “So start feeling better by eating,” he said, and pointed to the plate.

  Lila picked up her fork and started her dinner, turkey first. “This turkey is really good,” Lila said after one bite.

  “See what you missed?” Bo chided. He watched her with a mixture of relief and concern as Lila picked at the contents of her
plate. “Why hadn’t you eaten today?” he finally asked as Lila ate a small bite of broccoli casserole.

  She chewed, swallowed, and took a drink of water before answering. “Just forgot, I guess. I got distracted.”

  “Distracted?” Bo had seen no holiday decorations or presents anywhere. He noticed no tins of goodies or plates of cookies in her kitchen. Had she been in bed all day reading or something?

  She glared at him. “Memories,” she said, and turned back to her food. “And I finally decided I wanted to get out of the house, and the only place to go was the springs. Why didn’t you call before coming over?”

  “Slipped my mind.”

  “Right,” Lila said, and speared another thick piece of white meat turkey with her fork and began to nibble on it.

  “How often do you go out there alone?”

  “None of your damn business,” she said, and took a large bite of turkey. “I know what you’re about to ask next, by the way.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You’re about to question what would’ve happened to me if you hadn’t come along and rescued me. Am I right?”

  “Yes,” he said, “and I certainly will not apologize for worrying about you because seeing you there on the ground in the middle of the woods scared the hell out of me.”

  “Why did you come over today?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “To bring you this food,” Bo said, and gestured toward the bags and packages still open on the kitchen counter.

  “Is that all?”

  “No, I’ll admit that I wanted to see you. It’s Christmas and I missed you.”

  “Any other reason?”

  “Well, no,” he said, and blinked at her in confusion.

  “Wouldn’t have to do with that order, would it?” she snapped, and kept looking at her plate.

  “Order? You mean the order where I got to go to the springs?”

  “No, the order from the other day,” she said. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it.”

  “Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but I haven’t seen it and haven’t the foggiest what the hell you’re talking about.”

  Lila stood, and the afghan fell from her shoulders and onto her chair. She walked over to the kitchen counter where her purse sat and pulled something from its depths. Lila marched back to the table and thrust a small collection of papers at Bo.

  “Here,” she said, “read it.”

  With trepidation, Bo began to read the document. It was an order of the special judge, entered only a few days ago.

  “I haven’t seen this, Lila,” Bo claimed. “Jon’s been out of town, so I haven’t gotten this yet.”

  “Then I guess I’ll be the bearer of good news, won’t I?” she snapped. “Read on, and you’ll understand what I mean. And Merry Christmas,” she added with superb snarkiness. “There’s your gift.”

  Bo waded through the document, which was packed with legalese, but when he got to the final page and read it, he understood what had happened. The judge had granted a summary judgment in his favor, and had given him some, but not all, of the land he was claiming. In other words, he had won some of the land Lila had claimed as hers.

  “Almost right to the edge of the springs,” she said, knowing that was his next question.

  She was exaggerating; even he could tell that. The property line was moved just a few yards south of where Lila had claimed it to be. And so Hannah’s prediction had come to pass: neither of them was going to be satisfied with this resolution. Lila was obviously incensed that he’d gotten a strip of what she saw as her land, and he still didn’t get what he needed: sufficient land to build another rickhouse.

  “Lila, I didn’t know about this,” he said.

  “Sure you didn’t come here bearing gifts to talk to me about this, Bo? After I told you I wanted to be alone today?”

  “Why are you so angry with me?”

  “Because I am!” she yelled, and rose from her chair, almost knocking her nearly-empty plate onto the floor. “You’re here to talk about this damned order, you’ve got to be. What other topic is there today? Neither of us got what we wanted—what a surprise—but you got just a little bit more, didn’t you? You got more than me, and you’re here to make me see the light, that I might as well sell and be done with it, give you what you want and walk away! But I will never walk away from my home,” she said, pointing to the ground. “I will fight you every last step of the way. So if you think for one second we can simply agree and everything will be better, you can get the hell out right now,” she cried, pointing toward the front door.

  Bo slowly rose from his chair to face her. She wanted to vent, to yell. She wanted a showdown. He’d give it to her.

  “You really think I came here today—on Christmas Day—to persuade or cajole or seduce you into settling?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Are you really that paranoid and scared that you think I would try to do such a thing?” he exploded.

  “Yes, I am!”

  “Damn, Lila, even Hannah’s forgiven me for being a jerk to her—at least I think she has—but I can’t believe that you are so scared—”

  “Just stop right there,” she interrupted, “because you’ve hit upon it. Of course I’m scared. I am terrified. Do you know what it’s like to lose so much?”

  “We’re talking about a small strip of land, that’s all,” he said.

  She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. You don’t get what it’s like to suffer loss upon loss—it hasn’t happened to you, so I can’t expect that. But you need to see that I lost everything in my life that mattered—except the land we stand on right now. I lost everything I had or thought I was going to have when my parents and my husband and—when they all died,” she said, and began to cry. “So you’ll have to pardon me for being a little cynical and skeptical of people’s motives. Because I don’t trust them. I don’t trust the future. Hell, I don’t even trust myself. I trust the land. It’s there, it’s mine—or was mine. I can see it, feel it, smell it.”

  He was starting to grasp the germ of her despair. The land was a metaphor, a sanctuary, her place to escape from the hurt she had endured. And even though only a tiny slice of it was gone with the stroke of a judge’s pen, the loss still tore through her soul. She had retreated to this place to be safe, and had discovered there was no safety.

  “What is that evaporation process called?” she asked, snapping her fingers as she tried to remember. “Where the liquid evaporates from the barrel over time?”

  “Angels’ share,” Bo said.

  “That’s it,” Lila said, and pointed. “That’s all part of the process, right? It’s expected. You lose some of your product, of what you’re creating.”

  “Can’t be avoided,” Bo acknowledged. “To age it, to make it right, you have to lose some of it during that time.”

  “You expect it and can afford it,” she said, and nodded. “But I can’t afford to lose what I have. If something alters the landscape, takes something away from it, I can’t get that back. If the water at the springs is gone, there’s no guarantee of more. I can’t make more of it, like you make more bourbon. If little pieces, bits, of what make this property so special get destroyed, then what’s left is just not the same and will not be enough. So on your side of the property line the angels might be taking with your permission or acquiescence. But on mine, they dare not take. If anything, they’re here to watch and protect, just like me.”

  “Apparently you think I’m here only to settle a boundary dispute with you by preying upon you in the worst possible way. But maybe I’m not being honest with myself. Because every time I’m around you I suppose I am trying to settle our boundary issue. And I’m not talking about some stupid imaginary line between our properties,” he said, and took several steps until he was only a few feet away from her, “I’m talking about the boundary between you and me because I don’t want there to be
one at all. But you’ve got a wall up so damned high you can’t see over it. You’re willing to see the worst in people just to try to protect yourself.”

  “Hellooo?” she interjected in a mocking tone and waved her hand. “You sued me, remember? So cut me some slack on why I might be trying to protect myself, OK?”

  “And I wanted to drop the suit and you wouldn’t agree!” he reminded her. “Come on, Lila, look at me! Do you really believe I’m here to use my great charms and seduce you into something you don’t want?” He threw back his head and laughed. “God, Hannah would find that hilarious—me, the great deceptive lover!” They stood apart in the silence of her kitchen, with Bo grasping for the right thing to say. After calming himself by taking several deep breaths, he spoke again. “Can you please trust me when I tell you that I love you and I’m not here out of some ulterior motive?”

  Lila turned away from him and, slowly wandering back to the sitting area, fell onto the couch and put her head in her hands. He didn’t think she was still ill and that the food had indeed helped—her fiery tirade showed him she was feeling better—but she seemed painfully tired. Not wanting to let her escape, Bo followed and sat beside her. He sensed her struggle and said nothing, nor did he try to touch her.

  Lila sat up and clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “I’m sorry for lashing out at you,” she said in a quiet voice, her anger abated but her sadness still evident. “And I know that you can’t understand part of the reason why I get so uptight about the land, and especially the springs.”

  “Well, I know that they are very special.”

  “Yes, but more than you know,” she said, and looked at him. She took a deep breath and began her explanation. “The springs were always a special place for my entire family. It has been such a great gift to have something like that on the property. We were stewards of the past. And my parents and I used to go there often, like I told you. They loved it there. We spent so many hours together—picnicking, hiking. Just being together, especially after my brother died. And—that’s where my parents still are.”