Page 19 of Comforted By The Mountain Man
“Grace,” I firmly say her name.
“This place has a way of healing the cracks we think have grown too deep to mend. Take the kindness where you can get it and be grateful someone or something bigger than us out there is looking out for us.”
“How old are you again?” I ask playfully.
Smiling, she laughs. “I know. Twenty-three, by the way.”
“Goodness,” I shake my head. “I’m older by a year and you still sound infinitely wiser?” I laugh.
“I was lucky to grow up with good men around me who taught me life lessons beyond my years,” she grins. “And a few experiences of my own in the city caused me to grow up quick aswell. No matter our age, we’re all just stumbling along, trying to figure it out.”
“Mama, Gracie, hit the road, Jack!” Ryder kicks his feet in his car seat.
Laughing, we release the tension. Grace leans in and shocks me with a hug. Like, an honest-to-goodness hug.
“Call or text. A million times if you want,” she smiles, before high-fiving my son. “Let’s go have adventures, Buddy!”
“Yeah!” His arms shoot in the air. “Bye, Mama. Love you,” he calls out the window, and damn it, I lose it.
“Love you too, baby. Be good for Miss Grace,” I call out, not even bothering to fight the tears.
I watch my son drive away with a conflicting mix of emotions. That’s when I remember. Wiping my face, I take my old phone and turn it off. I pop open the back—it’s an old model Android—and break off the battery.
Seeing Asher’s newer Ford coming down the path, I rush inside and stuff the phone and battery into a junk drawer in the kitchen before grabbing my bag and closing the door with the temporary lock Asher installed before we went to his brother’s for dinner.
Distracted, I get in when Asher opens my door and says, good morning. We drive closer to town which I only peeked at the night we drove in.
“How was Ryder? Okay with leaving with Grace?” Asher asks.
I scoff a laugh. “More than okay. I’m surprised I got a, bye and love you Mama.”
Grinning softly, Asher nods. “Great kid,” he mumbles, and that eases my heart some.
We pull up to a large stone and brick building sitting against a lake. A sign on the wall elegantly reads, Hunter Distillery with an established year next to it. Stepping out on the pavement, thesummer breeze from the lake carries aromas of barley and a hint of sweetness.
“This is kind of cool,” I say under my breath.
A rare smile lights Asher’s face. “Wait till you see inside. Come on.”
He leads the way toward a side door instead of the main entrance we parked by. The door opens and a pleasant assault of smells hits me. Warm, rich grain, charred oak and smoke, a dark sweetness, and spices.
“These are the fermentation tanks you hear bubbling,” Asher points to a row of stainless steel vessels. “That large centerpiece,” he points to a huge copper column in the middle of the main room. “That’s the still. Heart of the operation,” he says with pride.
This place means something to him. He even walks differently here.
“The aging room is back there to the right. We have a tasting room upstairs where guests on tours or for events can come and shop.”
His large, warm hand settles on my lower back.
Act cool, Sierra.
“Right up here are the offices. I’ll show you where you’ll be working.”
Asher calls Ezra to meet us upstairs and the nerves kick in. My first real, adult job. I can’t mess this up. Ryder’s and my future depend on making a start here. Even if it’s temporary.
The club reminded me, well, actually, threatened me by telling me they monitored everything I did on their computer system. If I ever “got cute” and betrayed them, Ryder would be collateral.
This new freedom feels foreign. I’m not sure I know how to operate without looking over my shoulder, questioning every move, doubting my abilities.
