Rise and Shine (Shine On Series, Book 2) (16 page)

“What are you doing? I’m almost home.”

“Why do you think Walter needs Maizy? Has he said something to you about getting back into business?” Bo had gone stone serious. “Emmie are you gonna work with him again? He told Pap that was a one-time thing. Now, I like you girl but don’t be sticking your neck out in this business. I might not be able to save ya. There’s some mean folk in this.”

“I know. And no, he’s not asked me to work again, not really… but trust me, Walter needs the money. Your Pap needs to give him a break about that, maybe even help him out a little. Is that what’s going on, Walt working with your Pap?” Emmie tried to work out the details in her mind.

“You know I can’t talk to you about what Pap and Walter have decided. Hell, I don’t even exactly know what’s going on. Pap keeps everything pretty quiet, even from me,” Bo answered honestly. “But Pap likes Walt. I’m sure he’s not doing him wrong. What’s Walt need money for?”

“Well, I guess that ain’t for me to say.” Emmie grinned. “Now, if you’ll just drive another mile and take me home.” She pointed to the road ahead of them. She did not have time to play games with Bo Johnson.

Bo let out an audible sigh as he started the truck.

Emmie snickered, “You sound like my dog when you sigh like that… huffing cause you don’t get your way.”

Bo never said a word he just kept driving at a snail’s pace. She’d known him long enough to know he was thinking something through. He looked just like he used to when they’d be working out a math problem in eighth grade. She also could tell when he’d made up his mind about it. Although this time, it wasn’t on his face. She knew because he took an abrupt U-turn in the middle of the road. She slid against the window and he reached a long arm out to steady her. Without another word he sped up the truck taking her in the opposite direction.

“Bo. What in the world are you doing? My house.” She hitched her thumb behind them.

“I ain’t taking you home yet. You say you got business with Ole Maizy and you heard Walter say he needs her. I’m gonna take you to my Pap. Since he’s in charge of Ole Maizy for the time being and controlling the shine flow in our county, he’s the person you’re gonna end up working with or pissing off. Whichever way it goes, I just want to be sure I’m there when it happens.” His fingers gripped tightly against the steering wheel.

“What? No, I am not talking to your Pap about this. It’s got nothing to do with him. And anyway, I could never talk about it without Walt there. It’s his business.”

“You getting cold feet on me Emmie?” Bo looked over at her with a deep grin. “Where’s my ballsy girl that just faced her old boss… that her Yankee boyfriend left crippled?”

Emmie sighed and looked out the window. This is for Max, she thought to herself. She would face Mr. Johnson for Max. Besides Mae said he had come to talk to Walter about her making the apple pie, maybe this meeting wouldn’t be such a big deal.

The Johnson farm could have really been described more as a compound. Lots of aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, and grandparents all living on one plot of land. Granted, it wasn’t a small plot of land. They drove a good five minutes passing various relatives’ homes and at least three barns before they made it to the main house. Emmie couldn’t imagine living near this many people that were related. She wasn’t sure if it would feel reassuring or smothering. Bo waved and nodded his head at a man that must have been in his mid-forties.

“Is he family?” Emmie asked, smiling at the stranger.

“Yeah, uncle. He’s Pap’s youngest brother. Fifteen years between them.”

Bo slowed the car and pulled through the yard, almost to the front step of the house. He turned and squeezed Emmie’s knee through her worn dress. “You ready for this?”

“I guess.” Emmie reached over and pushed open the door.

Looking up to the wrap-around porch, Emmie noticed Mr. Johnson was sitting in one of the rocking chairs at the far end of the house.

“Hey, Pap,” he yelled up at the older man.

“Bo.” He nodded and craned his neck over the porch railing. “Who ya got with ya?”

“Pap, I think you know Emmie Talbot,” Bo said.

“You came to our barn party a few weeks back… with Walt? You’re Ronnie’s daughter, right?”

“Stepdaughter.” Emmie corrected although she wasn’t sure why. She’d never corrected anyone about that before. For some reason she felt like she was going to need to stand her ground with this man.

“Stepdaughter. You trying to keep your distance from the man that put food on your table all your life?” the old man asked.

“Nope.” She walked up the last stair. “Just trying to keep it honest.”

Behind the man’s long mustache she could see the tiny quirk of a grin. “I guess I can’t fault ya for that. I like honest. Have a seat.”

“Pap, Emmie wants to talk to you about Walter’s old still.” Bo pushed them into the conversation.

“Is that so?” The old man looked surprised. “And does Walter know you’re so interested in his still?”

“Well, I’ve called him about her two times and he won’t answer me. She’s not in my cave anymore,” Emmie answered.

“So why do you think I know something about it?” he asked, looking at his son. He had a sneaking suspicion that this girl could bat her eyes and get any information she wanted from Bo.

“I just…” Emmie couldn’t think of a thing to say. She didn’t want Bo to be in trouble. Thankfully she didn’t have to come up with a lie. Bo owned up to it.

“I told her we moved it for him but that’s it. She’s got a right to know if something has been moved off her land,” Bo said, leaning against the railing.

“That ain’t really for you to choose, now was it?” Mr. Johnson snapped at his son.

“I guess not but Emmie’s a friend.” Bo stood his ground. “As good a friend as Walter has been.”

Mr. Johnson gave a noncommittal grunt in reply.

“Well, I guess it’s not even the still I’m after. All though it does chap me that you guys think you can just take it right from under my nose. If it hadn’t been for my dog I may not have known it was gone for weeks,” she said annoyed. Emmie stood and paced the narrow area from door to rocking chair, working up the courage to tell Mr. Johnson what she’d came for.

“Spit it out Emmie,” Bo said, reaching out and grabbing her arm gently. “You’re making me dizzy pacing around like a nervous cat.”

Emmie stared up at Bo while she found her courage. She spun on her heel and turned to face Mr. Johnson. She was surprised to see he looked amused. In all the times she’d met him he always seemed so gruff and unpleasant. This was the second time she’d seen the hint of a grin on his face in ten minutes. Maybe she’d misjudged him.

“Okay, here goes. Mae told me you wanted me to make apple pie. She said it sold really well for James at the speaks in town. Something about making money hand over fist.” She worked to keep her voice steady and calm. “So see, it’s not really the still I’m interested in. Just the shine that I can turn into my apple pie.”

“Well, girl, that’s all well and good but Walt made it pretty clear to us that you were not going be messing in all this again. He seemed to think your moonshining days were behind ya,” he said honestly.

“Being as I’m grown, I’m not sure that’s for him to decide.”

“You got another shine supplier or another still hidden in that cave of yours? Cause all you’re gonna do is doctor up his jars. Where you planning to get your shine?” he asked all business like.

“I guess you’ve figured out why I have been curious about Ole Maizy,” she said, squaring her shoulders.

“Guess I did. You know what they say curiosity does to the cat right? It killed him.” He tilted his head to the side.

“I suppose its a good thing cat’s have got nine lives then…” she retorted.

An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments before he spoke again. “Walter said you didn’t know what you were messing with last time. Playing with moonshine’s like playing with fire. Some people round here have been burned for messing with the stuff.”

“You think I don’t know that? I know how my stepfather was killed. I’m not as naïve as you think.”

“No, I guess you aren’t.” He added, “Course how could you be after messing around with that McDowell family?”

“Leave Silas out of this.” Emmie crossed her arms over her chest.

“What’s he think about you getting mixed up in this again? Seems like I heard he didn’t much care for it the first time around. He carried you outta that pig and threatened Walter, is the way I heard it,” Mr. Johnson said. “I ain’t got nothing for ya girl. Wish I could help ya out but after we heard from Walter the kinda promises Silas made if you ever were near the stuff again, well James and I decided we’d cut our loses with the apple pie. That is unless you want to sell us your recipe. Say seventy-five dollars? That sounds like a fair price for some words, don’t you think?”

Emmie actually laughed. “Seventy-five dollars? You’re likely to make four digits off the shine and you only offer me seventy-five dollars? I don’t think so, Mr. Johnson.”

The older man shrugged and answered. “Well, I’m sorry we can’t make a deal then. Like I said, I’m not agreeing to something when your man isn’t here give it the okay.”

“It’s not for Silas to decide. I make my own choices,” she said, jutting her chin out. For all she knew Silas might not even care what she did anymore. She’d been in town for nearly a week now and he’d never done so much as call.

“Is that so?”

Emmie nodded.

“Well, you’ll just have to forgive me if I am going to give him weight in this decision… seeing as he’s part of the outfit that runs those speaks. I’m not about to get myself shot over some apple shine.”

Emmie sighed and walked the length of the porch. She spoke next without facing the man. Tough girl act didn’t work, she’d go with honest. She’d already lost this argument with him; she might as well lay it all out on the line. She just hoped Walter would forgive her for telling his business.

“I don’t want the money for me. I’ve got money,” she said just loud enough for him to hear. “It’s Walt. He needs money. Max needs to see a doctor in Louisville and it’s not gonna be cheap. I don’t want a dime… I just need supplies and everything else can filter right to Walter.” Silence passed as the three of them let the words and their meaning sink in.

When she turned around she saw Mr. Johnson stroking his mustache. She could see he was thinking it over. He hadn’t said no, so she was taking that as a positive.

“You’d do that for Walter?” Mr. Johnson asked, cocking his head to the side.

“And Max, and Mae,” she said honestly.

“Would you feel better knowing Walter had some cash?” Mr. Johnson asked.

Emmie frowned, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“I bought Maizy. Walter didn’t tell me why he needed money exactly, just that he needed some. So I bought the still from him.”

“Walter sold you Ole Maizy?” Emmie shouted. “Don’t you see how desperate he is? He loved that still. She’s been in his family for generations.” She spun on her heel and ran her hands through her hair. “If you didn’t give him more than a hundred you didn’t even put a dent in what he needed.

Mr. Johnson frowned. “I ain’t never met a doctor that cost that much money.”

“Well you’ve never had to try and take care of a child with Max’s struggles, have you? Also, they’re gonna have to live up there for God knows how long while the doctor works on the boy. Don’t you see? We gotta do this, for Walter. He needs help and he’s too proud to ask for it.”

“You think I got where I am outta doing charity work? I paid him a fair price,” Mr. Johnson said defensively.

“No, I don’t guess you did.” Emmie spit at him. How could he say that? Walter was his friend. “Forget about it. I’ll figure out another way. Bo, take me home, please.”

Bo watched as Emmie stomped her way down the stairs. He turned to take in his father’s expression and let out a little sigh of relief when he saw the amused expression in his eyes.

“She’s a spitfire, huh?” Mr. Johnson said to his son.

“Yeah.” Bo snorted.

“I see why you always chased after her,” he said to his son. When Bo walked past him he gripped his son’s elbow and whispered, “But keep your distance. Don’t you go messing where that McDowell boy sleeps. You understand me?”

“Pap. It’s fine.” He pulled his arm away from his father.

“I mean it. You mess with that girl and there will be trouble we don’t want.”

“Okay. Fine. I hear ya.” Bo made his way down the stairs, started the car and together they left the Johnson farm.

They were over halfway to Emmie’s house before either of them spoke. Bo was wrapped up in his father’s warning and Emmie was too mad that Mr. Johnson wouldn’t help his friend.

“I thought for sure he would help Walter,” she said quietly.

“He did buy the still.” Bo defended his father.

“You know what I mean.” She ran her finger along the hem of her skirt.

“I’ll talk to him. He didn’t say no Emmie. When he says no, trust me you hear it.”

“You think he will?” Emmie asked, letting the hope seep into her voice.

“I think he might. He probably just wants to talk to Walter before he commits,” Bo said honestly.

Emmie hoped Bo was right. Surely he wasn’t he kind of man to turn his back on a friend.

Chapter Twenty-two