She wasn’t satisfied with the story of what had happened—that Glenda had gone to the bathroom alone, lost her balance, and fallen. Pepper had noticed her mother’s problem with balance and had pointed it out to her caregivers. And while she knew her mother hadn’t needed constant supervision, a part of her was angry at the facility for the accident. But she was mostly mad at herself.
Would this have happened if she’d moved her mother to GarnetBrooke where the two of them could’ve been together?
“Eat,” Jon said. Pepper nearly jumped out of her seat as he nudged her leg with his to get her attention.
She looked down to see a tray with a sandwich, chips, and what looked to be a milkshake in front of her. Pepper had been so preoccupied with her thoughts she hadn’t even noticed her companions when they had returned to the table.
When she turned to Jon, he immediately answered her unspoken questions.
“Turkey and Swiss, tomato, mayo, but no onion, and chocolate,” he said, pointing at last to the shake.
She smiled weakly and noticed him watching her. “Thanks.”
“Thank him by eating, dear,” Mona encouraged.
Pepper complied and the three of them ate in silence until their solitude was broken by a woman with long dark hair rushing into the cafeteria.
It was Harriet Hensley, looking particularly harried.
“Harriet?” Jon called, alarm in his voice.
Harriet jumped back, looking startled by the sound of her name. When her eyes fell on Jon, she visibly relaxed and went to the table and greeted everyone.
“Why are you three here?” Harriet asked as she slipped the strap of her purse from her shoulder and took the seat next to Jon.
Pepper trembled and Jon spoke for her, telling Harriet about Glenda’s fall. Harriet offered apologies and to help in any way.
“And why are you here?” Mona finally inquired. “When you came in here, you looked like a bat out of hell, if you’ll pardon the expression.”
Harriet rolled her eyes and began to shrug out of her coat. “It’s Goose,” she said in a tired voice. “Idiot.”
“What’s wrong?” Pepper asked. “His mom is here.”
Harriet was unaware of this development, and thanked Pepper for the information. “Been trying to get in touch with her about her crazy son.”
“But what happened?” Jon asked.
“I’m sure this is going to be a big shocker, but the man wrecked the four-wheeler going down to the old still site. He cannot stay away from that place. Wanted to take some more pictures before they start an archaeological dig down there next week.”
“He’s here?” Jon asked.
She tossed her head back toward the door and frowned. “In the ER. He has a badly sprained arm and they think he broke some ribs.”
“It doesn’t sound like you have a lot of sympathy for him,” Jon said.
“I don’t.” She put her purse on her lap and began to poke around in its depths. “Drives like a maniac on that thing. I hope it’s totaled, but from what he said it isn’t. Anyway, between man and machine, he got the worse of it. I’m just here for a bite and to grab something for him, if they’ll let him have it.”
Harriet found her wallet and excused herself to go get sandwiches and drinks.
“They’ll really feel Goose’s absence at the distillery,” Jon noted, and wondered how long Goose would be off work.
“Yeah, and with Hannah now—um—yeah, I wonder what will happen,” Pepper barely recovered, and picked up her sandwich.
“What about Hannah?” Mona asked.
“I guess Pepper was thinking about the joint tour idea,” Jon said, saving the situation for her.
“Yes,” Pepper nodded, first at Jon, with a tacit thank you before turning to Mona and filling her in about the joint tour idea.
In a few minutes, Harriet returned carrying a tray with two paper cups and a wrapped sandwich on top. She put the tray on the table and apologized for her abrupt departure.
“Hope things go well.” She moved to give Pepper a quick hug before leaving. “You said Lucy was in the surgery waiting room?”
“Yeah, about half an hour ago,” Mona said.
Harriet was about to say her good-bye, but stopped when Lucy Davenport walked into the cafeteria.
“Well, there she is,” Harriet said and walked toward her future mother-in-law.
The trio turned to see Lucy, usually a cheerful thing, walking toward them with a desolate look.
Pepper was on her feet in a second and raced to Lucy.
“What is it?” Pepper asked, but knew it had to be bad from Lucy’s teary visage.
“You need to get back there, honey.” Lucy took Pepper’s hand in her own and patted it.
Pepper jerked her hand away from Lucy’s slight grasp and ran from the cafeteria. She heard Jon call after her, but ignored him and rushed back to the waiting room where she knew only bad news awaited her.
13
Looking out her back windows, Pepper saw a gray sky filled with snow and sleet. The dreariness of the heavens was echoed across the fields of GarnetBrooke in an expansive dullness. She should’ve known better than to count on decent conditions in March in Kentucky.
Especially on the day of her mother’s funeral.
Glenda had died after surgery of a sudden heart attack and nothing could be done—or so they’d said. After the waves of tears, guilt, and a sense of loss so deep that Pepper felt like her soul had been stolen, the anger hit.
She wasn’t happy with what had happened to Glenda Montrose.
Pepper had intended to give her mother a much better life with all that damn money, but it hadn’t been enough to save her from a simple fall, then a heart attack. Money couldn’t buy just a little bit of security for Glenda, someone who certainly deserved a lot better after the life she’d endured for the past twenty years.
Pepper had talked to Jon and he’d referred her to a law firm in Lexington that did medical malpractice and nursing home neglect cases. She wasn’t sure whether she’d pull the trigger and sue, but now that she had obscene amounts of money to try to get to the answers she wanted, Pepper was going to do exactly that.
Considering the nasty late winter weather, she realized boots were in order for the trip to the cemetery later. Jon and Mona would be there at any second to pick her up and take her into Bourbon Springs to their church where the funeral was to be held.
Over the past week, Jon and Mona had been her collective rock. Pepper had fallen apart for about a day after her mother’s death, and Jon and Mona had stepped in to help with funeral arrangements. Jon had also referred her to local attorney Jorrie Jones to help with the probate of Glenda’s meager estate.
Pepper heard a faint beep from her security system, indicating someone had just entered the farm at the main gate. She’d given the main gate security officers instructions that Jon and his mother were allowed access at any time. He’d been hinting at getting a swipe-card gate pass, which would allow him to bypass the regular eyeballing by the guards. She was probably going to accede to his request soon considering how much she’d needed his support and assistance over the past several days. She wanted him around.
Anticipating her guests, Pepper rose from the couch and went to the front door, expecting to see Jon and his mother. But Jon was the only one to emerge from his car.
“Where’s your mom?” Pepper asked as Jon, dressed in a dark suit, entered the house.
“At the church. She’s got a cold and didn’t want to get near you right now. Thought she’d go ahead in case there was anything that needed to be done.”
They were standing alone in her foyer, the first time they’d been alone in several days.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Not really. I just want to get this day over with,” she said and then paused. “Thanks for being here for me this week.”
“Of course. That’s what friends are for.”
Haltingly, Jon reached out and strok
ed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Fighting tears and trembling, Pepper closed her eyes and allowed him to pull her into an embrace, the pretense of not needing him long gone. For several minutes they stood together, entwined not as lovers but two people who loved each other.
After she retrieved her boots, they drove into town in silence, holding hands for most of the journey. When they walked into the church together, Pepper was leaning heavily on Jon’s arm. Several mourners were already present, more than Pepper had expected. She chalked up the additional attendees to morbid curiosity; she doubted there would have been that many people present had she not been a recent lottery winner. Funny how money suddenly made her family more worthy of pity and notice.
Yet there were many people she was comforted to see: her former coworkers from school; her friends from animal rescue; and a few farm workers, including Rolly. And of course the distillery gang was there: Bo, Lila, Hannah, Kyle, Goose, Harriet, and Lucy.
Jon and Pepper reached the end of the aisle and arrived at the front of the church to greet Mona, who was already in the first pew. Pepper took a spot between Jon and his mother, holding the hand of each as the pastor appeared. He walked to Pepper, gave her simple condolences, then rose to the pulpit.
She’d insisted on a simple, quick ceremony, per her mother’s wishes, but the pastor seemed to drone on and on. Or maybe she just didn’t like the sermon.
Because it felt like the man was talking directly to her.
“And what are we told?” the pastor asked the mourners. “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”
There was a lot of talk of forgiveness and new life and moving on.
Concepts with which Pepper Montrose had been having some problems.
“…Abide each other, and forgive anyone who does you wrong…”
She still felt guilty and angry about what had happened to her mother. Was the message that she needed to forgive herself? Or those who had perhaps wronged her mother?
Probably both.
“But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you… The old has passed away; behold, the new has come…”
And if she could forgive the hospital, doctors, or those at the home if they had somehow failed her mother, she knew she was going to have to forgive Jon.
Could she do that?
Maybe she already had.
She had felt the gradual restoration of trust over the past week as he had supported and guided her. She knew his motivation—he loved her and wanted to be with her—but that only meant he’d been there for her first and foremost as a friend. He’d not made a move, not said a thing, and had only offered his hand or a hug as appropriate. The most intimate thing that he’d done that had seemed more than friendly was when he’d touched her cheek and hugged her in the foyer. And she’d welcomed that embrace.
That was all she wanted for the present. The intensity of the physical passion they had experienced had been too frightening for her to contemplate a return to that kind of relationship, at least for now.
The service finally, mercifully came to an end; Pepper had managed to endure the experience without crying too hard. She’d cried so much the past week that she had exhausted herself and instead of that intense, soul-wracking grief that had made it nearly impossible to function, a more quiet and weary sense of permanence had taken hold of her consciousness. It was, she knew, the arrival of the acceptance phase of grief. But she was still sad and lonely.
That’s what she told Jon on the drive to the cemetery.
“You’re not alone, Pepper,” he tried to reassure her. “Mom and I are here for you.”
“I know, but that’s not what I meant.” Pepper put her head back and closed her eyes. “I guess it’s the loss of family. Mom was it for me. I’m not close to anyone else in my family. I have a few cousins out of state, but I haven’t seen them in years. Didn’t even contact them about Mom’s death since they hadn’t been in touch until I won the lottery, all of them so very happy to offer congratulations.”
When they reached the cemetery, the skies were a dramatic mixture of dark clouds still spewing snow, with the sun peeking through the gaps to provide blinding and sudden shards of light. Jon put his arm around her and led her to the gravesite as they followed the casket. He had volunteered to be a pallbearer, but Pepper refused his request. She wanted him to be at her side throughout the funeral and the graveside service.
The pallbearers were therefore a few friends from her former school, Rolly, and Bo Davenport. She’d wanted to ask Goose, but with his recent injuries, she knew he couldn’t do it.
Over the open grave was a white tent with metal folding chairs underneath it. Pepper, Jon, and Mona claimed the first seats—and they were colder than a frog’s ass at the bottom of a well in the winter. Pepper could feel the chill of the metal seep all the way through her thick wool coat, and saw a few other mourners wiggling as they suffered the same discomfiture.
The preacher at the graveside touched on the same themes (again heavy on the forgiveness and new life), but his remarks were comparatively brief. Pepper had expected a longer service, considering the length of the sermon the man had delivered at the funeral. But perhaps the biting wind and increasing cloud cover was a sign to the Lord’s servant that he needed to wrap it up, especially since the man had not possessed the good sense to wear a coat and was shivering in his suit over the grave.
Before the coffin was lowered, Pepper rose and plucked a few deep red roses from the spray on top. As the coffin descended, Pepper threw the first scoop of dirt down onto the shiny metal surface, the clattering of small bits of rock and earth echoing upward from the open pit with an uneasy finality. This small but expected gesture was enough to make Pepper start crying again, and she told Jon and Mona she wanted to leave as soon as possible.
After a few hugs from Hannah, Lila, and Harriet, Jon led her from the grave, with his mother following close behind.
“Where to? The farm?” he asked.
“Yes. Home,” she said, eager to get back to the safety and solitude of GarnetBrooke.
They picked their way through the graves, dodging old displays of flowers and the occasional rut. She was paying attention to the ground and where to place her foot when Jon suddenly came to a dead stop, causing her to look up.
Standing a few yards away, directly in the middle of the shortest path to Jon’s vehicle, was Walt Montrose in funeral attire.
* * *
Jon saw that Pepper had spotted her father and waited for a sign as to what she was going to do. Although he knew this woman better than any other person on the planet, Jon had no idea what Pepper’s reaction would be as she came face-to-face with her father for what he suspected was the first time in years.
Pepper gave his hand a squeeze before releasing it and strode to face her father. Jon followed her.
“Hi, honey,” Walt said.
Pepper stopped in front of her father and Jon caught up to her, standing a few feet behind. He fought the instinct to get between Pepper and Walt; he wanted to protect her from what his gut was telling him was nothing but trouble.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she sneered. “How can you show your face here? On this day? I thought I made it clear that I wanted nothing to do with you! And then you have the gall to show up here?”
Walt’s shoulders slouched and he looked at the ground with his hands deeply entrenched in his coat pockets. He was bald, spectacled, and a little bit overweight, although the old black coat looked too big for him.
The posture was a little too practiced as was that hang-dog look. Jon had seen enough litigants, dealt with enough clients, and had done enough criminal defense work to sense the fakery and disingenuousness.
And he already knew that he was looking at a thief and someone capable of immense betrayal. An adjudicated crook and manipulator. His bullshit detector was going off i
nside his brain, the needle pointing all the way into the danger zone. He hadn’t seen Walt in years, but there was something about the man that convinced him he was looking at someone who hadn’t changed.
Jon looked over his shoulder and saw Goose and Harriet approaching, along with the rest of the Davenport crowd, except for Lucy, who apparently had decided the cold weather was too much and wasn’t around. Jon locked eyes with Goose, and the men shared a knowing frown. Goose was all too familiar with Walt’s misdeeds through his mother’s unfortunate experience.
“Honey, I just thought I should show my respects,” Walt said and pulled his head back up.
“Yeah, you show up to pay your respects after years of ignoring her? Of ignoring us? Is that really the best you got?” Pepper crossed her arms over her chest.
“Pepper, that’s all I got, and you know it. It’s what I told you weeks ago, remember? I did what your mother wanted. I stayed away. But I saw Glenda’s obit and I knew I had to come. I’m sorry if I upset you—” Walt said, choking. “I hope—I hope you’re okay, and I love you.”
Pepper dropped her arms and started to noticeably relax in the face of her father’s display.
“Well, thanks, but—”
Walt regained some measure of control and pressed on. It was apparent to Jon he’d planned and practiced this presentation.
But Pepper took a step toward her father. Was she buying what Walt was selling? The woman who’d hated her father for years? The woman who hadn’t been able to forgive the misrepresentation he’d made to Drake?
Jon moved closer to Pepper until he was at her back. He put a hand on her shoulder.
“I thought I was doing the right thing, okay?” Walt said in a somewhat soft voice as more of the mourners started to move toward them. “I’d done so much wrong that—well, if I could honor Glenda’s wishes, maybe I could start doing something right for a change. And sometimes it was hard, knowing you were here and wanting to see you, but—but I’m ashamed to admit that sometimes it was easy too.” He swallowed and shuddered. “I didn’t have to come back here and deal with all the bad looks, or be ignored by people who used to be my friends. I could stay away and try to live with what I’d done. Well, like that was easy,” he said and laughed bitterly.
Bourbon Springs Box Set: Volume II, Books 4-6 (Bourbon Springs Box Sets Book 2) Page 73
