Strange how her departure coincided so neatly with Mack’s, like a message from the cosmos that they had always been destined to go their separate ways.
Jorrie vaguely wondered where she’d packed the camp chair and blanket she used to take to the concerts. After a short and fruitless search, it hit her that she probably never removed them from the trunk of her car. She went outside to check to see if her memory was correct, and she found the items there, along with a small empty cooler and a can of bug repellant. Everything she needed to attend the concert was right in front of her, except ice and something to drink
She stared at the items, her hand on the edge of the trunk.
She did not want to go. She did not want to see Mack and hear those haunting songs in that wonderful voice.
Although he’d tried to contact her a few times after the breakup, she didn’t return his calls, texts, or e-mails, and eventually all communication between them ceased. The only time she’d spoken to him was when she’d seen him in the library the previous week. They had spoken briefly, and she learned he was there to get some books for Albert, who hadn’t been feeling well.
The thought of Albert ailing pained her, as she missed the old man and his antics. Mack told her that he knew (probably through Drake) that she was leaving, and wished her the best. It had been an agonizing encounter, particularly since she’d thought that would be the last time she would see him.
Now she was talking herself into going to his last concert. Why was she such a glutton for punishment? Why not walk away?
The answer was obvious.
She was still in love with him.
Although he’d asked them not to make a fuss over his last concert, upon his arrival on the distillery grounds a huge banner over the visitors’ center greeted him:
GOOD LUCK MACK!
PLEASE COME BACK!
WE’LL MISS YOU!
Why was he leaving again? Someone needed to remind him.
Oh, yeah. The money thing. Money to pay off that stupid debt so he could save his songs.
Songs he now couldn’t bear to even think about much less sing because all they did was remind him of what he’d lost.
Jorrie.
When Drake had told him that she was leaving Bourbon Springs, he wasn’t surprised but it still hurt like hell. Part of him had hoped that she’d be waiting for him here after he’d served his time in Nashville, whether it turned out he was gone for six weeks or six months. He was so confused about what to do that he didn’t even know what he wanted: did he want the full six-month gig so he could pay off the debt or did he want them to ditch him after six weeks so he could get home to Bourbon Springs?
But now that Jorrie wasn’t going to be around, he didn’t care what happened. He’d be just as miserable without her in Nashville as he would be in Bourbon Springs.
Mack stood in front of the visitors’ center, thinking of Goose’s wedding only four months earlier and how his whole attitude and world had shifted.
All because of the woman he’d met that day.
The woman he still loved.
“Hey, Mack,” came a familiar voice from behind.
Mack turned to see Jon Buckler walking toward him.
“Kinda over the top, isn’t it?” Jon said with a smirk as he pointed to the banner. “I bet you can nail it in one guess whose idea that was.”
“She wouldn’t happen to be a new mother, would she?”
“You got it. Hannah will be here tonight, by the way. Said she wouldn’t miss your last concert. Oh, and I have it on good authority that someone else might be here tonight.”
Mack blinked vacantly at Jon, not understanding.
“Pepper’s been on Jorrie’s case for the past week to get her to come to your last concert. I think she’s worn her down.”
“Jorrie’s… going to be here tonight?”
“Yeah,” Jon said, looking a little amused. “Don’t tell me you suddenly have stage fright.”
“No, no—well, maybe a little,” Mack admitted.
Jon offered to buy Mack something to eat and the two men went inside. Jon made polite conversation about Mack’s gig in Nashville, but Mack’s mind kept wandering to the playlist for that night.
Now that he knew Jorrie would be in the audience, he was going to change the set list.
He’d definitely sing Good Heavens and High Hills tonight, two pieces he hadn’t performed since they broke up. And there was another piece, a piece he’d written after they’d broken up, that he would perform. He’d wondered whether there would be the right occasion for it, and it had finally arrived.
Mack grabbed a sandwich and something to drink and gave Jon regrets for not being able eat with him in the café. He needed to get back to the stage, do an equipment check, and tell the band that the set list would be slightly altered from what he’d originally told them. As the two men walked out of the visitors’ center together, Jon put a hand on Mack’s shoulder.
“I really hope everything works out for you,” Jon said.
“Thanks. I hate to leave, but it’s just something I have to do to get my house in order, so to speak.”
“I meant I hope that everything works out for you and Jorrie,” Jon explained.
Mack thanked him, and they walked in silence back to the concert area, where they parted. It was still two hours before the concert began, but Mack started scanning the grounds for any sign of Jorrie, looking for any sign of her short curly blond hair. He closed his eyes and sighed when he thought about the times he’d woven his fingers through her locks and had marveled at the curl and the color.
Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t around, but he couldn’t stop himself from continuing to search, and he began to fear she wouldn’t show. He finally put aside the thoughts of her, knowing he needed to focus on his performance. He had expected this last gig to be difficult because he had loved playing at the distillery during the summer, but now it would be even more bittersweet knowing that Jorrie would be in the audience.
His final bow for her.
25
“You’re being silly,” Pepper complained.
Jorrie trudged at Pepper’s side toward the concert area with a camp chair over her shoulder and toting a cooler in one hand and blanket under her arm.
“I told you I didn’t want to sit too close,” Jorrie snapped.
“Fine,” Pepper said. “So sit behind us and hide from him.”
“Actually, that sounds like a fine idea,” Jorrie agreed while Pepper rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated breath.
The crowd that night was large; it seemed that everyone in Bourbon Springs had shown up for Mack’s musical bon voyage party. She was happy for the thickness of the throng since it would allow her to blend in more easily amongst the sea of faces. Jorrie set up her own little camp behind the Davenport clan, the Bucklers, Judges Richards and Craft, and Walker and CiCi. It was like the whole distillery gang (as she had come to think of them) formed a firewall between herself and the stage.
She wound up sitting next to her doctor, Miranda Chaplin. Miranda didn’t know Jorrie was leaving Bourbon Springs and said she was sorry to see her go.
“Well, hell,” Miranda uttered under her breath, and Jorrie looked around to see what had caused her companion such consternation.
A few yards in front of them and shaking hands with Bo was a tall, quite handsome man with short brown hair, wearing khaki pants and an untucked red polo shirt. He had his camp chair and a blanket tucked under one arm and had placed his small cooler on the ground so he could glad-hand with the Davenports.
After a brief conversation with Bo, the man moved to greet Hannah and then Goose. Jorrie saw him turn and lock eyes with Miranda before moving toward her.
“May I join you?” he asked.
“No law against it,” Miranda sniped, but the man was not put off by her rudeness.
He thanked her and placed his chair next to Miranda.
“Sorry,” Miranda said, and introduced Jorrie
to Prentice Oakes.
She instantly recognized the name for two reasons; one good, one not so good.
Prent Oakes was a co-owner of Commonwealth Cooperage, the well-known barrel manufacturer for most of the distilleries in Kentucky, including Old Garnet. The respected Oakes family had been in the cooperage business for generations in Littleham, a small town south of Bourbon Springs.
But even though the Oakes name carried an air of distinction, that prestige had detached from Prent. Two years earlier, Miranda and Prent had been engaged, but he’d left her at the altar, causing quite the scandal.
So when Jorrie realized the man’s identity and his relationship to Miranda, she was amazed at his temerity to ask to sit next to her—and Miranda’s willingness to put up with his presence. Prent tried to make some small talk with his former fiancée, but all he got for his effort were curt responses.
“I’m going to the visitors’ center café to get something to eat,” he said with an air of defeat. “Anyone want anything?”
Jorrie pulled her wallet from her pocket at once and fished out several bills.
“Here,” she said, “get us both some Black Garnet, the biggest cone you can for this money.” She thrust the bills at Prent but he refused.
“No, my treat,” he said over further protests by Jorrie. “Miranda? You want anything?”
Miranda turned her head up to meet Prentice’s gaze. Jorrie couldn’t see Miranda’s expression, but did see her swallow.
“Ice cream would be nice,” Miranda said softly and Prent nodded.
Miranda turned away from him and stared straight ahead. Jorrie could practically feel the tension rolling off the woman in waves, yet when she looked for the same reaction in Prent, she saw nothing of the sort. By contrast, he was relaxed and cheerful as he took leave of them.
“Miranda, if you want to get up and go sit somewhere else, I’ll understand,” Jorrie said. “I’ll even go with you, if you’d like.”
Miranda smiled at Jorrie and thanked her. “It would be pointless to move. He’d find me no matter where I went, unless I actually leave, which I don’t want to do.”
“Find you?” Jorrie repeated.
Miranda leaned over and spoke softly into Jorrie’s ear. “He’s trying to get back in my good graces,” she said before leaning back into her chair.
“That’s obvious. But is that a good thing or a bad thing from your point of view?” Jorrie asked, thinking she already knew the answer.
Miranda shrugged as though the question bored her. “Hell if I know,” she said with a weak laugh. “I don’t really care because I’m done with the man after what happened. I do rather wish he’d leave me alone.”
“I don’t think he got the message.”
“He rarely does,” Miranda said, and turned her face toward the stage. “So I’m kinda stuck with him. But if he brings us back some decent ice cream, the annoyance will be worth it, at least for tonight.”
In the next few minutes, the Foolcatchers emerged onto the stage, closely followed by Mack. When she saw him, her heart leapt and broke in the same instant.
Led by the Davenports, the crowd broke into a raucous round of applause, and Mack removed his cowboy hat, bowed, and put the hat over his heart as the applause continued. Mack put his hat back on his head and shaded his eyes with one hand, scanning the crowd. Jorrie knew he was looking for her, and even though the likelihood of Mack actually spotting her was low, she sunk a little in her seat to avoid his eyes.
Eventually the clapping died away and Mack addressed the audience
“Thank you, thank you all. I can’t believe…,” he started to say, then choked up and moved away from the microphone for a few seconds. “I can’t believe everything that’s happened since I came back to Bourbon Springs—it all happened so fast. And I’m sorry to have to leave again, but I promise you—all of you out there—that I will be back. This is my home, this is where I belong, and I will return to the place and the people I love.”
The crowd cheered as Mack turned to the band and they began to play. Mack chose to start the concert with Good Heavens.
Tears welled in her eyes and her stomach turn to knots as she wondered how the hell she was going to get through this experience without dissolving into a weeping mess. She saw Pepper turn around during Good Heavens and give her a look mixed with sympathy and disapproval, and that was when Jorrie knew it had been a mistake to come to the concert.
Now she was trapped.
She couldn’t get up and leave in the middle of the performance, particularly with the distillery gang sitting right in front of her. She was going to have to sit there and endure the entire show and hope that no one would notice her state of upset. The only thing that temporarily dissolved her unhappy mood was when Prent returned with apple cinnamon ice cream. He apologized for not returning with Black Garnet; they were already sold out of the flavor.
Since it was October and the cool darkness quickly followed the warm fall afternoons, the concert was scheduled to be over an hour earlier than the summertime performances. That meant there was no break or intermission, and so there was no chance for Jorrie to leave.
Fortunately, after the initial shock of hearing Good Heavens (which Mack followed with High Hills, making her even more upset), Mack lapsed into playing songs from his country album and then standard Bluegrass pieces. She had braced herself for an entire concert of heart-rending songs; Jorrie hadn’t forgotten that Mack had told her he’d written a number of tunes about her over the summer.
Even though she was not happy and more than ready to get off the distillery grounds, the concert became, if not enjoyable, endurable as Mack and his band went through their performance. She relaxed just a little, tired from being so emotionally wound up, and began to scan the audience out of a sense of mild boredom.
For the first time, she noticed that there was a security guard stationed at the far left side of the stage, which was the area where Mack and the band left the stage. She’d heard that the distillery had gotten a few guards after the incident outside her condo. The stolen car used to attack them was discovered burned out in a field the following day.
Although all suspicion landed on Sims as the culprit, there was no direct evidence tying him to the attack. Unable to connect Sims to the crime, Kyle had started looking into whether Jorrie had any enemies; as a former prosecutor who had helped put a lot of bad people in prison, it was only reasonable to investigate whether anyone she had criminally prosecuted had recently been released from custody. Those individuals might seek their own vengeance on her. Yet despite additional investigation, no suspects emerged.
Jorrie refocused her attention on Mack as he ended a song, and she sensed that the finale of the concert was at hand. The band put down their instruments and departed the stage, leaving Mack standing alone in front of a mic with his guitar.
“Folks, this is a new song, my last one for you this evening—but I promise you it will not be the very last one I sing in Craig County, Kentucky. As I said at the beginning of the evening, I will return. Therefore, this song is called To Be Continued.”
The end of another day
And the light fades to gray
Blue into black
But this son will come back
The darkness consumes me
Taunts me, uses me
Yet I know my truth
And pray you do too
Oh, the call of fate’s temptation I hear!
The false song of pride
With its harvest of tears
Devil behind me, that be your place
Be gone with you now, let me finish my race
Fall dies to winter
Nothing stands still
This earth moves beneath us
Every rock, creek, and hill
Yet love clings to hope
And seeks its sweet home
For my work is not done
And my love is not gone
Oh, the call of fate’s temptation
I hear!
The false song of pride
With its harvest of tears
Oh, may you never forget
In this place we flew and soared high
I have no regrets
Jorrie hunched in her chair, sobbing, as the crowd got to its feet and gave Mack his well-deserved standing ovation. After a few moments, she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Miranda’s concerned gaze upon her. Jorrie swallowed, brushed away tears, and stood and clapped for the next several minutes with the rest of the crowd.
Mack left the stage and was called back twice but refused to perform any encores, much to Jorrie’s relief. She was emotionally drained and imagined he felt the same way.
“You need a ride home?” Miranda asked as Jorrie began packing up her gear.
Jorrie understood it was Miranda’s way of asking her whether she was okay, and thanked her. Miranda nodded and was about to say something else when Prent interrupted. He offered to take Miranda’s gear to her car, and she happily allowed him to tote her gear away. When Jorrie gave Miranda a confused look after her wannabe beau left, Miranda shrugged.
“Like I said, he’s trying to get me back. Or work through guilt, I guess,” she added with bitterness in her tone.
CiCi announced that the distillery café was still open, and wondered if anyone wanted to go with her to grab something to eat. Jorrie begged off, but Miranda was eager to get more ice cream. Lila and Rachel said they’d come along because they wanted to use the bathroom, and the group of ladies left.
Jorrie stood and watched as the crowd thinned. She wanted to talk to Mack even though she had no idea what she’d say to him. She saw that the Davenports and their friends were still lingering, and she caught Hannah’s eye. Hannah waved to her and called her over.
“You look fantastic!” Jorrie told her. “Motherhood suits you.”
Hannah, wearing black pants and a long-sleeved red T-shirt, beamed at her. “Thanks, but I still have some weight to lose, and none too soon.” She adjusted the waistband of her pants. “Ugh! I’ll never get back into any of my LBDs because of all those LPDs I downed when I was pregnant.”
Bourbon Springs Box Set: Volume III, Books 7-9 (Bourbon Springs Box Sets Book 3) Page 23
