Page 15 of Moonshine and Magnolias
The shared joke warmed his insides. Damn it, he didn’t want to like her as much as he did. Rob placed the box on top of a table and accepted the drink. One whiff singed the inside of his nose. The proof of this stuff must be in the high eighties. “I’m going to let it sit for a minute.”
“I don’t blame you.” Wendy poured one for herself and mixed it withgrapefruit juice and lots of ice. “Belle’s Medicinal Brewery uses the same recipe that my great-great-granddaddy did in the 1920s, using the same clear water from Scarlett Springs that runs near the property.” She took a sip, watching him from over the rim of her glass.
Shades of the past crept into Rob’s present. “You were the bootleggers?” How had he missed that? How had any of them missed that?
Damn, he hoped she didn’t notice his saying the bootleggers instead of plain bootleggers. It was too specific. But it explained so much about why Uncle Louis had resided at Fountenoy Hall for so long. As a revenuer, he would have been tasked with bringing those who flouted Prohibition laws to justice.
“I knew you’d pick up on that.” The look she gave him showed full appreciation of his ability to make connections. “My family needed income after the war and my granddaddy knew something about fermentation. So they started making their own alcohol in the late 1800s, around the time they turned Fountenoy Hall into a boarding house. Even when Prohibition started, they kept it all safe and made sure it burned bright. No one ever died from Clayton shine.”
Eulalee poked her head into the library. “There you are. We’re out of whiskey in the parlor.”
“Did you ask Brandi to get more?” Wendy’s lips tightened.
Her aunt shook her head. “She’s holding court. I didn’t want to disturb her.”
“Take this one.” Wendy held the bottle up to Rob first, but he shook his head.
“Thank you, honey.” Her aunt disappeared. Wendy took out her phone and tapped around for a bit. Probably updating her to-do list. Maybe she could teach Hal something about efficiency.
The ice had melted some, and he tried the whiskey. The smooth liquid gave the perfect amount of burn and easily slid down his throat, leaving behind the subtle flavor of peaches. He closed his eyes in appreciation.
“Right? I wasn’t kidding.” Wendy raised her glass. “Here’s to tradition.”
“So. Bootleggers.” He gave her a lazy smile as if the topic was a passing interest. “Being hunted by the IRS. Forced to hide in shadows and work by thelight of the moon.”
A furrow appeared on her forehead and her nose wrinkled. He resisted the urge to rub it away. “I hope you don’t think we’re still criminals, Dr. Upshaw.”
“No.” That was reserved for his family.
The door opened, and Mrs. Kipling rushed into the room. Rob cursed the interruption. Now Wendy would get suspicious if he brought up Prohibition yet again. He’d have to find another way.
The newlywed held out her hands. “Ms. Marsh. I just wanted to tell you how much we’ve enjoyed our stay here in case I don’t see you before we leave in the morning. Everything was just perfect.”
Wendy took the offered greeting. “So happy to hear that.” The professional was back, complete with her studied movements and actions.
“The food was incredible, the grounds are incredible, the beds are incredible.” She blushed. “I mean, comfortable. We slept a lot.” She covered her mouth. “Oh, dear. That’s not to say we… I mean, we did, but didn’t… I mean…”
Wendy gave a genuine smile at the woman’s effusive praise, and Rob marveled at the difference between one that came naturally and one she put on for show. “I’m so glad Fountenoy Hall added to the beginning of your beautiful lives. May your family’s tradition continue for many years.”
“I can’t wait to tell my parents about our stay. I hate to leave, but work calls.” She threw her arms around Wendy, who stumbled back. Her own arms rose hesitantly before embracing the younger woman. “Thank you again.”
Once Mrs. Kipling was gone, Rob approached the subject from another track. “I’ve been studying the outline you use for school tour groups and it didn’t mention anything about Prohibition.” He took a swallow from his jar. Even diluted, the alcohol still lit a fiery path to his stomach. But damn, that stuff was good.
Her frown gave Rob a twinge of unease. “Maybe because discussing illegal alcoholic activity around impressionable youth wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do and why are you studying our tour outline?” She set her jar down with a clank and strode to the box he had carried into the room. She turned it around, revealing theword TOURS scribbled on the side in big, block letters. “Why do you have this?”
Welcome back, task-driven, efficient Ms. Marsh. She was easier on his senses than the soft, sensual one. Ah, who was he trying to fool? He wanted them both.
He knitted his brows, giving her a look of innocent confusion. “Brandi gave it to me. Didn’t she tell you?”
Wendy closed her eyes. “Just to be clear – Brandi my cousin, right?” Her voice was strained.
“We were chatting earlier and she said something about a summer camp coming in for a tour in a few days. She didn’t seem that into it and it sounded fascinating to me, so I volunteered to lead it.”
“Volunteered?” There was a trace of disbelief in her voice. “Dr. Upshaw, you’re a guest. While I appreciate how helpful you’ve been, you really should let us cater to you during your stay. Not the other way around.”
“My schedule is extremely flexible.” Especially since he was working for himself.
When he found out from Brandi earlier that she had to run a tour for campers, his off-hand suggestion that he take over had been greeted with enthusiasm. The benefits of being able to poke around under the guise of helping outweighed any extra work he had to do.
