Page 9 of Bourbon Girl, part 1 of 6
The words were kind, but they felt like a polite dismissal. As she gathered her things, I heard her ask Jett about the best time to book future tours.
On the drive back to the campground, the bus felt oddly quiet after the day's energy.
"Good group today," Jett said, catching my eye in the mirror.
"Very respectful. The journalist seemed particularly interested in the industry."
"Yeah, she mentioned that. Smart woman."
"Pretty too," I added.
"So what are your plans for your days off?" he asked as we turned onto the campground entrance.
The question caught me off guard. "Oh, I have... things to do."
"Things?"
"Just, you know, settling in. Exploring the area." When he pulled in, I grabbed my bag quickly and jogged down the steps. "See you Wednesday." When he didn't open the bus door, I looked back with eyebrows raised.
Jett hesitated, then opened the bus door. "See you Wednesday."
July 7, Monday
wheatused as a secondary grain to add softness and sweetness to the mash
THE LAUNDRYfacility at Happy Trails smelled like a combination of fabric softener and pine disinfectant, with underlying notes of someone's forgotten tuna sandwich. I dumped my accumulated dirty clothes into the ancient washing machine and fed it quarters from the stash I kept in an old peanut butter jar.
A man emerged from behind one of the dryers, arms full of dark-colored clothing. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with sandy hair that stuck up in places and an easy smile that transformed his ordinary features into something almost handsome.
"Afternoon," he said, nodding as he passed. "You must be new. I'm Teddy Reeves, site fourteen."
"Bernadette Waters. Site nine."
"Welcome to the neighborhood." He gestured toward his pile of laundry. "Fair warning—the spin cycle on that washer sounds like a helicopter landing, but it gets the job done."
"Thanks for the heads up."
He lingered by the folding table, sorting through what appeared to be an unusual amount of outdoor gear. "You staying long?"
"Through December, probably. You?"
"Same, maybe longer. Depends on how the hunting season goes." He held up a mud-stained shirt. "Not deer hunting—arrowheads and ginseng. This area's prime territory if you know where to look."
I'd never met anyone who hunted for arrowheads. "Is that... profitable?"
"Ginseng can be, if you find the right patches. Arrowheads are more of a passion project." His eyes lit up with genuine enthusiasm. "Found a Paleo point last week that's probably eight thousand years old. Makes you think about all the people who walked these hills before us, you know?"
There was something endearing about his excitement over ancient artifacts. "That's really cool."
"If you're ever interested in tagging along, I could show you what to look for. Most people walk right over amazing stuff without realizing it."
He seemed harmless enough. "I might take you up on that."
Teddy smiled wider. "Great. I usually head out around dawn, back by noon. See you around, Bernadette." He left with a wave.
I mused that when it came right down to it, we were all looking for something.
After folding a load of clothes, I walked back to my van then decided it could use a wash, too. As I gathered a bucket, some rags, and the bottle of all-purpose cleaner I'd picked up at the camp store, Poppy materialized.
