Page 148 of Highball Rush
More lights twinkled as the sun went down. Bootleggers clapped to the lively music and people still ate and drank. Talked and laughed. Hugged and had good-natured arguments. I even saw Gram-Gram give Myrt a big hug over by the impromptu game of horseshoes someone had set up.
This day, this place. It all felt like a miracle. It reminded me that good people—truly good people—still existed in this world. In fact, most people were. But in this place—in this funny little town tucked in the mountains of West Virginia—amazing things had happened. The good guys had won. Love had overpowered darkness.
And my future stretched, bright and beautiful, before me. A future with family and friends. With holidays spent around a crowded dinner table. Weddings and baby showers and new babies being born. A new generation of little Bootleg kids who’d grow up here, among these wonderful people. With sunshine summers and snowy winters. With a family that loved them so much, they’d never have reason to doubt it.
As if he could feel the love trying to burst right out of me, Gibson gathered me in his arms. He took a deep breath, smelling my hair.
“I love you, Callie,” he said quietly. “I’m real glad you’re home.”
“Me too, Gibs. I’m so glad I get to stay.”
The deep roar of an engine rumbled behind us. Gibson looked toward the street and his mouth dropped open.
“Holy shit.”
A black Charger—nineteen sixty-eight, if I wasn’t mistaken—pulled up next to the park.
“Is that your baby?” I asked.
“Darlin’, it sure is.”
The smile on his face made me giddy. He grabbed my hand and led me toward the car.
An older man with a long gray beard stepped out. He had a barrel chest and mechanic’s hands, the kind that were perpetually stained with engine oil.
“Gibson,” he said and stuck his hand out.
“Otis.” Gibson took his hand and they exchanged a hearty shake. “I didn’t know you were bringing her back today.”
“Figured I’d surprise you. How does she look?”
I waited on the grass while Gibson inspected his car. He ran his hands along the fenders. Checked the doors, the little grin never leaving his face.
“She looks perfect. Better than new.” He shook hands with Otis again. “Thanks, man. You need a ride somewhere?”
“No, my wife’s a few minutes behind. She’ll be along to fetch me. We’ll settle up later. I can see you’re busy.” He nodded toward the park.
“Thanks. Feel free to stay for a drink,” Gibson said. “Best moonshine in West Virginia.”
Otis grinned beneath his long beard and patted his ample belly. “I just might do that.”
I slipped my arms around Gibson’s waist and looked up at him. “Happy to have your car back?”
“Yeah. But it’s still not as good as having you back. Not even close.”
“Still, I can’t wait to ride in it.”
“We’ll drive it home,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I knew Gibson was anxious to get behind the wheel of his Charger again, so we started the long process of saying our goodbyes. Scarlett had already set up Quincy and Henna with a cabin for the next few days. They were especially excited about the hot springs. I heard Henna say something about skinny dipping—she was firmly of the mind that clothing was always optional—and I made a mental note to let them in on the location of the secret hot springs. And the sign-up sheet. It was for everyone’s benefit.
Once we’d hugged everyone goodnight, we walked back to Gibson’s car. Cash wanted to sniff it out first, walking around with his tail wagging, sniffing everything. He peed on the tire, but Gibson just laughed. He let him in first so he could smell the inside. Then he swung open the heavy passenger’s side door and ushered me in.
The smooth leather seat was comfortable and the interior was beautiful. It looked like it had been fully restored. I buckled my seat belt and Cash sat on the back seat, like he already knew that was his spot.
Gibson slid in slowly, clearly enjoying himself. He shut the door and ran his hands along the steering wheel.
“Damn, it’s good to have her back.”
