CiCi’s remark kept running through Harriet’s mind for the remainder of the day as she watched the others interact. While most of the people there were family, the fact that CiCi and Walker took the time to stop by because they wanted to be there was remarkable.
But by the end of the day, Harriet completely understood the sentiment.
There was laughter as well as tears when Bo proposed a toast to the memories of Emma as well as Fuzzy. But the mild grief was consumed by the love, comfort, and warmth of these people she had been honored to call friends.
She was starting to understand what family and home really meant, if those things meant places you felt welcome, happy, and secure.
* * *
Goose had watched Harriet through the day, wondering if he would see some lingering sadness on her face as she thought about not being with her parents. But all he saw was wonder and joy.
He wanted to tell her that night that he loved her, but the circumstances still weren’t ideal. He had to take his mother home, and they were both tired.
And the next day he had to go to the distillery and start working on the tasting room, getting it ready for the wedding on Saturday. Bo had said he’d help, but it wasn’t right to make the groom get the wedding site prepared. Goose still couldn’t understand why they weren’t having the wedding out in the main lobby—they could’ve postponed the work on the bourbon flavor wheel floor and fit a lot more guests in that space. But Bo and Lila had insisted on the tasting room. When Goose had asked Hannah why that room, she cryptically replied that it was in that room Bo and Lila had experienced their first taste of each other.
“Just one taste was all it took, now they’re marrying by the brook,” she had sung to him in a childlike voice as she walked away and laughed.
Goose had had no idea what she meant—and definitely didn’t want details—but nonetheless had laughed at his cousin’s verse.
He decided if he couldn’t be with Harriet that night, perhaps he could do something else.
Talk to Kyle.
Before leaving the dinner, Goose pulled Kyle aside and asked whether he could come by later to talk to him.
“Sure,” Kyle said. “We’ll be up for a while. Something wrong?”
“Just need some advice.”
“Anytime.” Kyle patted him on the shoulder before he left with his mother and Harriet.
Goose dropped his mother off first and then Harriet, declining her invitation to stay.
“We both know what happened last time you invited me in,” he said as they embraced on her doorstep.
“I heard no complaints.”
“Not even from the neighbors?”
“Well, after our latest—interlude—I played early Secret Santa for them and put earplugs in all their mailboxes,” she said. “So I think we’ll have nothing to worry about.”
He still declined her tempting offer to stay, noting the work he had to do the next day. After she volunteered to come to the distillery to help with the decorating on Friday, they kissed and Goose promised Saturday evening would be special.
“You got plans for us after the wedding?” she asked with a big grin.
“You’ll see,” he said before giving her one last kiss.
When Goose returned to Hannah and Kyle’s house, it was mostly darkened. A porch light was on, and Goose took it as a sign that at least Kyle was still up and about and willing to chat. After driving up the long driveway to the top of the hill where the house was perched, he spied the sheriff hunched over the trunk of his cruiser.
“Want to talk out here?” Kyle asked. “It’s a great night.”
Kyle had Goose follow him over to a bench in front of the driveway. It was situated such that the view below was sweeping.
A few miles to the south was Bourbon Springs, cosseted in the darkness but producing its own soft glow from the few traffic and street lights. Slightly to the west and south were the distillery grounds, dark and a little foreboding under a thick cover of trees and light fog. Goose took a deep breath and smelled what he expected: the mash. Even though the distillery had been closed to visitors for the holiday, the work of making bourbon continued.
“You’ve got a great view from any angle up here, don’t you?” Goose asked, thinking about the view from the back porch down to Old Crow Creek and beyond.
“Yep,” Kyle answered and turned to look back at the house. “But the view inside is the best one.”
Kyle was referring to Hannah, Goose knew. They’d been married a little over a year now, and Goose had never seen Hannah so happy.
Goose leaned over and put his arms on top of his legs. “I got a problem I know you’ve had to deal with. And the stupid thing is that I was part of that problem.” He explained about Harriet’s parents, their attitude toward him, and how they’d treated her when it came to spending Thanksgiving with them. “I don’t know how to handle it—but I know you do,” he said, turning his head toward Kyle. “What should I do?”
“I know that you probably want to go confront them,” Kyle said at once. “And that’s the last thing to do. All you can do is be polite, firm, and try to avoid them if at all possible. Because if you’re in any situation with them, what’s likely to happen is that they will provoke a confrontation and try to blame you for it. You need to keep your distance while being there for Harriet.”
“That’s a hell of a fine line to walk.”
“Tell me about it.” Kyle leaned back and put his arm along the top of the bench. “Not easy when you’re the sheriff, that’s for damn sure.”
“So you’re telling me to be patient,” Goose summed up.
“It can pay some mighty fine dividends, Goose,” Kyle said. “I’m living proof of the power of patience. And it sure is better than fighting with them and beating your head against that wall. Try to be what they aren’t for Harriet.”
“In other words, don’t be an asshole like I was,” Goose said, dropping his head.
“Didn’t say that,” Kyle said and punched him lightly on the arm. “Hearts and minds in this town are hard to change, but they can be changed. Just go look in the mirror.”
“Thanks,” Goose said.
They chatted a few more minutes about the wedding, the day, and Kentucky basketball, and Goose realized how late it was. The men stood together, shook hands, and then embraced. Goose asked to use the bathroom before going home, and Kyle told him to follow him inside.
When they entered the foyer and closed the front door behind them, Goose heard footsteps at the top of the stairs.
And then he heard Hannah’s voice.
“Come on up here before it’s too late to have some playtime with your mate…,” she cooed in a sing-song voice.
Kyle reddened, then did a complete face palm.
Goose wanted to laugh but was more mortified than amused.
“Dude, I am so sorry,” Goose apologized in a whisper.
Kyle dropped his hand from his face and looked at Goose, smiling.
“Remember what I just told you about being patient? And the dividends it can pay?” Kyle tilted his head in the direction of the stairs.
And then both men started laughing maniacally.
“What the—Goose?” Hannah screeched from above and then joined in the laughter briefly. Goose wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw the edge of a red nightgown as it flitted out of sight at the top of the stairs. “Get your business finished down there so Kyle and I can get down to ours,” she declared. “We’re trying to be a happily married couple around here, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Then a door slammed and she was gone.
“That’s kinda hard to miss, actually,” Goose said and hurriedly left, thanking a still red-faced Kyle as he departed.
* * *
Saturday arrived with a light snowfall, just enough to dust the landscape and make the distillery grounds sparkle and glisten like a fairyland. It was the perfect touch to the magical backdrop of the view over Old Crow Creek and the valley
beyond.
Shortly after five o’clock, with the snow still falling lightly outside in the twilight, Lila and Bo exchanged their vows in front of the long glass window that formed the back wall of the tasting room. Lila was resplendent in an ivory satin gown with a long, full veil. It was almost like she was part of the backdrop itself, an iridescent wood nymph clothed in snow and ice that had emerged from the forest to claim her love.
While Bo and Lila were completely calm and enraptured by the other’s presence, Hannah and CiCi, the matron of honor and bridesmaid, cried like babies. Dressed in a new dark suit to serve as Bo’s best man, Goose teared up just a little when the minister pronounced the couple husband and wife.
The wedding was not a big affair; there were probably no more than fifty guests total. And with such a small crowd, the reception was easily contained within the lobby of the visitors’ center, which had been decorated for the holidays and twinkled with the lights and colors of the season.
At the far left side of the lobby was a tall fresh cedar tree, cut a few days earlier from the distillery grounds and festooned with garlands, lights, and ornaments. Hannah, Kyle, Walker, CiCi, Goose, and Harriet had worked the previous day decorating the visitors’ center and tasting room for the wedding. Their hard work had paid handsome dividends, with nearly every guest commenting on the loveliness of the trimmings. Hannah’s favorite touch was the handmade garland on the tree. Goose had had the idea to make paper chains out of Old Garnet bottle labels. Not to be outdone, Walker had gone to the distillery and found a collection of bungs. He’d glued two together with a slip of yarn between, and presented his creation as a very small bourbon barrel ornament.
After what had to be hundreds of photographs in front of the window in the tasting room and the Christmas tree, the happy couple finally emerged into the reception to greet their guests and partake of the party food. There was no dancing, just some soft Christmas music playing in the background.
There was a toast, but it was not a traditional toast, with champagne.
That was not the done thing at a Davenport wedding.
Instead of plain flutes of champagne, Lila and Bo were toasted with something called Bluegrass Bubbly or BB, a mixture of cider and Old Garnet bourbon, with two cherries in the bottom of the glass. It was a concoction the Davenports had been drinking on special occasions for years.
The only slightly unsightly thing or mild disappointment to the day was the middle of the floor: the bourbon flavor wheel was not finished, much to Goose’s consternation.
He stood drinking his BB, Harriet at his side, staring down at the mess on the floor.
“What’s the problem?” she asked as Goose slipped an arm around her waist.
Harriet was wearing a knee-length green silk dress with a scoop neck. Goose loved the sensation of the sinuous fabric underneath his fingers; it reminded him of caressing the skin underneath.
Which was exactly what he had planned for later that night, plus a lot more.
“They ordered the wrong wood. Thought they could substitute something else for oak, but I told them not a chance. They got the oak, but the company we had ready to work on lettering the pieces said that because of the delay, their whole schedule is messed up. Probably won’t get it done until the new year.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” Harriet enthused. “I was there when you got the idea, remember?”
“I do remember,” he said, holding her a little tighter. “And because of that, I promise you’ll be the first to see it.”
“But what about Hannah, Bo, and Lila?”
“What about them? This is my little project, not theirs. And they’ll see it eventually. So unless they just happen to be around when the thing gets finished, I promise you’ll be the very first person to see the unveiling of the world’s largest bourbon flavor wheel.”
Lila disappeared, along with Hannah and CiCi, and emerged about half an hour later in what could be termed traveling clothes. The newlyweds were about to depart for their honeymoon in the Bahamas. Bo’s truck was parked in front of the visitors’ center; Kyle had moved it there while Bo got out of his tux and into his own version of traveling clothes (jeans and a sweater).
“What the f—” Bo began to say when he saw his vehicle.
In addition to the JUST MARRIED painted on the back of the truck window, tied to the bumper were several barrel staves, the long strips of wood used to make a barrel.
“Lot cooler than streamers or old shoes,” Kyle reasoned. “And what were we gonna put on that truck, anyway? They don’t put bourbon in aluminum cans, so what the hell did you expect, glass bottles?”
“But you ruined a barrel! Those staves look new! I don’t see any devil’s cut in the wood!” protested Bo, referring to the bourbon that remained trapped in the wood of an emptied barrel. The entire crowd laughed except for Bo and Walker. They were the only two—the distillery owner and the master distiller—who seemed truly upset, even mournful, at the loss of a perfectly good barrel.
Kyle grabbed his brother-in-law (and now cousin-in-law) around the shoulders with one arm and shook him a little. “Not every day you get married, Bo. New barrel for new beginnings.”
Bo and Lila left amidst a flurry of hugs, waves, and good wishes, with the staves rattling behind Bo’s truck like a collection of crazy snakes bouncing off a hot plate. After the couple left, Harriet and Goose wandered back toward the Christmas tree.
“I will not hear you offer me some lame excuse about being too tired to come back to my house tonight,” he told her as they pretended to admire the ornaments on the tree
“You didn’t hear one, did you? But what about Lucy? Aren’t you taking her home?”
“She’s getting a ride with the judges since they’re likely to leave early,” Goose explained and looked across the lobby to see Rachel, hands on her belly, talking with Bruce Colyard and Jon Buckler, both of whom had politely yet coldly greeted him. Harriet had grumbled about their lack of manners, but Goose shrugged off their rudeness, keeping Kyle’s advice in mind.
Harriet turned to face him and adjusted his tie. “You do realize you look pretty damned hot in that suit, don’t you?”
“You like this thing?” He looked down at his new attire. “I hate it.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t look mighty fine in it,” she said and finished adjusting his tie. “Although I happen to know you look better with a lot less on.”
Harriet’s teasing and light touch was making him hard right there in front of the tree. It seemed exceptionally naughty, but it also felt so good, like naughty things often did.
“You’d better stop,” he cautioned, causing her to glance down.
“I don’t see a problem.”
“You might not see it, but I sure as hell can feel it, Harriet.”
“I hope I get to do that later,” she purred.
“Oh, shit,” he mumbled and eyed the door to the restroom. “You’re gonna pay tonight, girl.”
She leaned close to him and pointed at a Santa Claus ornament on the tree. “Better not break that promise. Santa’s watching.”
“And I know who’s naughty,” Goose said and began to move toward the bathroom
Harriet grabbed his tie, pulling him to her. “You’d better hope I am,” she whispered before releasing him so he could escape to the restroom.
25
Harriet moved back into the lobby and away from the tree, intending to speak with Bruce and Jon. She knew she had to make some minor small talk to keep up appearances although they were blowing off her boyfriend. Be nice even if they’re not nice to you, she could hear her mother saying. Good advice in spite of the fact that her mother didn’t live by it.
But as she walked across the lobby, she was intercepted by CiCi, with Pepper Montrose in tow. Pepper was at the wedding with Jon as her date. Harriet had thought the longtime friends were still on the outs, but they’d apparently made up.
“Guess what!” CiCi cried. “Pepper wants in on the hist
ory hikes this spring!”
“I merely mentioned it to Lila,” Pepper added quickly. “I’m not so sure that fourth graders and high schoolers would be the best mix for a hike or any coordinated history project.”
The three talked about the hikes and the plans for Lila’s classes at the high school to complete some history projects just like Lila’s students had from the prior school year. Harriet realized at once that it would be great for younger kids to get involved with history projects at the distillery or even at Lila’s springs; such participation could help with the National Historic Site status since Old Garnet would be able to show that students came to the location to learn about history.
Pepper was excited about the history part of the project but kept repeating her doubts about the feasibility of mixing up the ages.
“I think we might want to try some separate projects first,” she concluded as Jon arrived at her side.
“Ready to go?” he asked Pepper as he lightly touched her arm.
“Yes.” Pepper looked out the windows beyond the Christmas tree. “Still snowing out there?”
He nodded and put a hand on her shoulder. “Looks like it’s starting to stick too. A lot of people are leaving.”
Jon was right; people were filtering out through the front doors of the visitors’ center. After saying good-bye, Pepper and Jon headed toward a coatrack, his hand lightly resting on her back as they walked away.
“What’s the deal with those two? A thing or not?” CiCi whispered to Harriet, using that familiarly silly term.
Harriet chuckled. “Not likely. I’m surprised Pepper was here with him at all. They’re not as close as they used to be.” CiCi countered with the rumor that Jon’s wife had left him because Jon was really in love with Pepper, but Harriet rejected the story. “Nope. Much simpler explanation for why the marriage failed.”
“And that would be?”
“Jon can be a real ass.” CiCi was shocked, and Harriet relished the surprise she’d put on her former client’s face. “Trust me on this one. I’ve worked with Jon for over five years now. He’s a good lawyer—a great one, really. But he just has a way of irritating people. Particularly of the female variety.”
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