Bourbon Harmony (Bourbon Canyon #5)

Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Rhys

I pulled into the parking lot of Copper Summit and parked. Not many cars were in the lot. June had invited us when the main employees were gone.

The building sat in the middle of a stretch of trees. The land behind the place had once been mined for copper and silver. Now it was decorated with grass and trees. One of the Bailey grandparents had started with moonshine in the old mining headquarters and eventually mastered bourbon, turning it into a thriving spirits industry and tourism for the town.

The building itself was a work of art. In high school, June had taken me to Bozeman and shown me the bigger distillery that made much of their popular commercial lines. The facility was large and impressive, but the location in Bourbon Canyon was the apple of Copper Summit’s eye. Large windows decorated the front. A portion of them framed Copper Summit neon signs from the bar, but the rest offered a stunning view of the interior, with copper piping and large metal stills arching behind the glass.

I jogged to catch up to the girls, who sprinted toward the door of the distillery. June was standing outside the front door, waving. The breeze caught her long rainbow skirt around her legs and fluttered her loose top high enough that I caught a bare strip of stomach. Instant lust pumped through my veins.

It’d been over a week since I’d been inside her and it was like missing an appendage. I wanted to turn my head while lying in bed and tell her about my day. I thought of texting her pictures of when the goats were standing on random objects in their pen. Or of Goldie when she was eating her dog food with a comment No blankets consumed today.

I’d been with her since yesterday, but I missed her. I missed us.

Leaving my bedroom this morning had been the biggest fucking punch in the gut. June had been curled up with Bethany. My daughter had opened up to her about something she hadn’t talked to me about. Then Hannah had joined them, and June had accepted her.

What would it be like to wake up to that every morning?

I wanted it so goddamn bad my heart nearly disintegrated in my chest when I thought that maybe...

“Hey!” June gave each of the girls a hug like she hadn’t just spent the morning with them. “My sisters are so excited to have you. You might see my brothers too. Don’t worry, they can look as grumpy as your dad, but they’re just as harmless.” She shot me a smug grin that made me want to haul her to the closest broom closet .

Fuck, I needed to get control of myself.

The girls rushed inside and went straight for the merchandise displays.

“I want this hat!” Hannah brandished a rust-colored Copper Summit ball cap.

“Ooh, I want the candy.” Bethany squished her face against a glass display of bourbon-flavored chocolates.

June nudged my arm. “I hope you brought your wallet, Hot Mountain Daddy.”

Wynter appeared around a display of squat glasses. “I hear we’re giving a special tour for two special girls.”

“We’re so excited!” Summer was right behind Wynter. “We love visitors.”

The tour started. Hannah slipped her hand into June’s, and June led them into the area with the tanks.

“Remember those yeast farts I told you about?” June lifted Hannah to look inside. I did the same with Bethany. A brownish liquid filled the inside and bubbles were scattered across the top. Some were popping and a fruity, bread-like smell filled my nose. “These are the mash tanks, and one way we know the yeast is working is when they create bubbles.”

After the girls got their fill and giggled a ton, June led us through the giant copper and steel stills.

Teller rounded a tank and nodded at his sisters and the kids. He stopped by me. “We charge extra for after-hours tours.”

“June gave me the family and friends discount.”

His expression turned appraising. “You’re one of those?”

No, dammit. “Something like that.”

Tenor approached us. He hunched his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his jeans. The guy had always been an odd mix of frumpy nerd and rugged cowboy, and most of the time it seemed like each personality was at war with itself. His baggy Copper Summit polo hung off his broad shoulders and fell to past his zipper. Had I ever seen him tuck in a shirt? Even his jeans were looser than most men wore theirs, but the amount of work he did was reflected in his scuffed cowboy boots.

He pushed his dark-framed glasses up his nose. “Hey, Rhys. Glad you could bring the kids.”

He was the youngest of the Bailey brothers, but he was also the tallest. His height could be intimidating, but the slouch added an air of harmlessness, although I’d never discounted Tenor’s strength.

“Hey, Junie,” Teller called, interrupting her discussing how the vapors collect and go through another distillation process. “You gotta take them to the barrelhouse.”

“Would you like to lead the tour, Teller?” June asked archly.

“Nah, you’re doing fine.” He grinned. “If you need a job, we can hire you.”

June and her sisters rolled their eyes while the girls giggled.

“All right,” June said. “Let’s go to the barrelhouse before we go through the packaging area.”

“We’ll wait in here,” Summer said. “Wynter and I want to get a goody package ready for each of them.”

“Make Rhys one too,” June said, shooting me a sly grin. “He’s been a good boy.”

I narrowed my eyes on her, but appreciation for June’s family filled me like a balloon. My family was tight-knit, but it was small. My kids had friends, but with my job, we were homebound a lot. They had Wren for a grandparent but a mom who was rarely around. No aunts or uncles. Our life was quiet and sometimes I wondered if that was truly the best for them.

June’s brothers took the lead, and we wove through the packaging area and out an exit at the far end of the distillery. The comforting smell of warm grain filled the air. They dried the mash behind the distillery before feeding it to their cattle.

Windows broke up the squat, rectangular barrelhouse at regular intervals. Unlike the work of art the distillery had been polished into, the wooden barrelhouse looked like it was made to do nothing but work.

Teller walked backward as he addressed the girls. “You’d never look at this and think there’re millions of dollars sitting on racks inside.”

Tenor opened the small side door for us and we wandered in. Wooden support beams formed racks from one end of the barrelhouse to the other. There was enough space between the rows to fit a forklift and allow it to maneuver, and each column was stacked four barrels high. The smell of grains was overtaken by the pleasing scent of old wood and musty dry air with a nice undercurrent of bourbon—the angel’s share that evaporated out of the oak barrels.

“It’s so quiet,” Bethany whispered.

“Most of the time.” Teller took over the tour, and Tenor followed, answering random questions that Bethany and Hannah asked. “When the forklifts are going and the guys are talking, it can get a little noisy.”

June fell in step with me. “I’m glad you brought them.”

“I didn’t know when they would get the chance otherwise.”

My comment landed like an empty barrel between us. She stopped. I steeled myself and faced her, putting my back to the other four.

“That bothers me for two reasons,” she said. “You broke my heart. You didn’t even give us a chance, but any time the kids wanted a tour, each one of my family members would’ve stopped and given them one.”

Chagrined, I gritted my teeth. She was right, but I hadn’t gone out of my way to keep in contact with the Baileys, knowing I’d hurt June.

“The second reason,” she continued, “is that I can’t believe you’re still determined to end this thing between us after all that’s happened between us in the last few weeks.” She poked my shoulder. “Since I first stopped in town.”

“June.” We’d been over this.

“What?” She searched my face. “What, Rhys? You know better? You’re going to drag me down? You’re no good for me? Didn’t we prove otherwise when I started pumping out songs after one kiss?”

An old, clogging fear rose inside me, an emotion that had formed inside me the moment I’d heard my mom would never get to live out her dream. “I’d just get in the way.”

She folded her arms. “You’re not a kid anymore. And I’d certainly never think of treating Bethany and Hannah, or any other kid, the way your mom treated you.”

I recoiled like she’d slapped me. “Jesus, June.” Emotions clashed in my chest, making it hard to breathe. June would never speak to a kid like that— My mom hadn’t either. I had deserved her hard words. Like my mom had told me, I’d needed a reality check. “You don’t know anything about that. ”

“I know that I can probably commiserate with how hard your mom tried. I can probably even understand the pressure she was under trying to care for you. But what I don’t understand is when your dad took you in. Didn’t Angela ever call him? Did he even know about you? I don’t think Jonathon Kinkade turned down custody of his son.”

“He knew about me.” I didn’t know any of the specifics. Dad hadn’t talked about Mom. He’d made sure my needs were met, and I’d made sure to behave so I wouldn’t lose another parent.

“But you didn’t know about him?” She folded her arms, her skirt swirling with the shift in her weight. “What exactly did she say about your dad?”

I ground my teeth again. Your dad’s a single rancher. He can’t be a single dad. Then after Dad and Wren had married. She won’t like you. You’ll ruin his marriage . “June, this doesn’t have to do with us.”

She flung her arms out. “It has everything to do with us!”

The voices in the background went silent.

“Fuck,” I growled and rubbed the tiny cramp forming between my brows. “Can we talk about this later?”

“I don’t know, Rhys, is there going to be a later?”

The guys appeared around one of the rows.

Tenor assessed us in that calm demeanor of his. “The girls are bored by nothing but barrels. We’ll take them back to finish the tour.”

“Thank you,” June said, her glare still on me.

The girls were watching us with big eyes. Bethany’s mouth pursed like she was chewing the inside of her cheek. I didn’t want to worry them. They were in good hands.

“I’ll be right there.” I forced a smile. “You can each pick out two things from the shop.”

June morphed into the stage presence she was adored for. “Y’all go ahead. I need to clear up a few things with your daddy before I leave.”

I winced at the subtle stress she put on leave.

Hannah clapped her hands. “I want that hat and a toy.” She rushed out the door and Tenor stayed on her heels.

Bethany was older and getting harder to fool. She pinned me with a wise-beyond-her-years gaze before following Hannah.

Teller was the last to leave, but the look he shot me wasn’t the warning stare I anticipated. His brown eyes were full of disappointment.

Why was I the goddamn bad guy?

Hadn’t I made myself one so June could do what she needed to?

“I love you.” Her words slammed into my heart. “I’m in love with you. I always have been, even when you were an asshole at the funeral.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I understand why you did what you did.” She opened her eyelids and I was staked in place by the amber blaze. “I understand why you’re going to ditch me again. But I’m also enraged. How could you hurt me like that?”

“It’s for your own go?—”

“Is it?” Her eyes misted over. “It doesn’t feel like it. It didn’t feel like the best thing for me was to be alone in Nashville. Do you know...”

A cloud covered the sun, causing the interior to dim .

“Do I know what, June?” I asked quietly. I wouldn’t like what she said.

“Those songs I wrote about us, I kept to myself for years. Then I wrote ‘Emerald Rain’ after your wedding and I still sat on them.” A tear tracked down her cheek. “Then when you and Kirstin had Bethany, I knew I’d lost you.”

I lifted my hand to catch the shiny tear, but she stepped out of my reach. I’d never hated myself more.

Wasn’t this what I wanted? For her to move on and get everything she wanted?

Her words sank in, one horrifying realization at a time.

She’d held on to the music that had propelled her career? For years?

“Why?”

She sniffled. “How could I sing those if there was a chance for us? So I finally decided to let Lucy listen to them.” Her harsh chuckle was swallowed by the large building. “And you know the rest. But you know what no one else can tell? They’re different from the songs I wrote after all the other failed relationships. They’re better. Because I was so truly in love with you and heartbroken. My other music? It’s about superficial love and hurt for no damn reason. And this new album? It’s going to be better than anything I’ve ever put out. So good, I don’t know if I can ever top it.” She took a step toward the exit. And another. “And you know what else?”

It was pretty clear right now I didn’t know a goddamn thing.

She squared her shoulders. “I don’t know if I want to top it. I’m at the top and the view is pretty damn lonely. The whole trip has been. Because I don’t want fame and money if it means I can’t be with the ones I love. If it means I lose the most important person in my life.”

Her words were tiny slices along my skin. Little cuts, shredding everything I’d ever thought I knew.

She took a slip of paper out of a hidden pocket in her skirt. “I found this when I got dressed this morning. I should be touched, but it hurts. It really fucking hurts, Rhys.”

My stomach dropped when I saw what she held. The ticket to her Grand Ole Opry performance.

“I just wanted to make music that meant something to others, but I’m losing myself in the process.” She swiped at her face. “It feels really selfish to say that.” Another bitter laugh left her. “I have five addresses!” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I really want, and I think maybe you need to do the same. Because I think in your case you need to be a little more selfish. You should probably look at how your mom’s actions affected you and then wonder what example you’re setting for your girls. I know it’d break your heart if they gave up everything for someone else’s happiness—and then realized it was all for nothing.”

She let the ticket fall to the ground. Then she turned and left me alone. Just like June was. Because of me.