Daisies in the Canyon(52)

Abby could hold her liquor. Hell, she’d put lots of big strong soldiers under the table, but that ’shine put a fuzzy halo around everything. The little diamond stuck on Bonnie’s nose was twice as big as normal.

“And it sparkles like what floats around my head when Cooper kisses me,” she muttered.

“What was that about kisses?” Shiloh asked. “One more drink and you’ll be giving us a play-by-play of what happened when you fell into bed with Cooper.”

“We’re not talkin’ about men tonight and it wasn’t in a bed,” Abby answered. “I’ve never done drugs, but I swear this must be the way they make you feel.”

Shiloh tossed back what she had in her glass and gasped. “Dammit! That stuff really is pure fire.” She fanned her mouth with her hand.

Bonnie sipped it slowly. “Not bad. My peach has more body, a hint of cinnamon and brown sugar, and less grit, but this would knock you on your ass just the same if you had very much of it. Here, Abby, you can have the rest of mine.”

Abby’s hand reached for it as if she had no control. That time it didn’t burn as badly as the first but she had to concentrate to keep her wits about her. “Shit! That’s some good stuff.”

“This is at least a hundred and ninety proof and eight ounces will knock a seasoned drinker on their ass. You’d best not have any more or we’ll be throwin’ daisies on your casket in the mornin’,” Bonnie said.

“Then get me a little bit of whiskey to cool down my throat,” Abby said. “And why would this be worse than whiskey or too much wine?”

“A direct result of the floor coming up to meet your head when you stand up too fast. You’ve both had enough ’shine,” Bonnie said.

“Bring the jar to me. I can drink as much as Abby any day of the week,” Shiloh said.

“You’ll be sorry, but if you want it, you can have it. Remember what I told you about cleaning up after yourselves,” Bonnie said. “And if I’m bartending, you’ve both got to tell me a story.”

“About what?” Abby tried to focus on the fireplace, but the flames wouldn’t be still. They moved out of the fireplace and danced across the floor. Damn, but they were scorching when they reached her feet. She tossed the throw from her legs onto the floor and looked around for her dog. Why wasn’t Martha in the house? Shiloh had put her in the pen. She didn’t belong out there in the rain; she should be in the house, not in an old cold doghouse made of scrap metal and used wood. Martha was a sophisticated dog who knew how to herd cattle. If she got pneumonia, Abby was going to beat the shit out of Shiloh.

Remember not to throw whiskey on that throw if the blaze catches it on fire, she thought. Lord, I’m drunk, and I’ve only had the equivalent of three drinks. Maybe I shouldn’t drink any more. What do you think, Mama? You’re usually in my head bitchin’ at me when I drink. Where are you tonight?

Bonnie handed Abby a glass with a finger of whiskey in the bottom and then put a glass with the rest of the ’shine in Shiloh’s outstretched hand. “Which one of you is going first?”

“First with what? Oh, we have to tell you a story, right?” Shiloh turned up the moonshine and sipped it. “You’re right, Abby, it kind of makes me glow from the inside out.”

“Sounds like a personality drug.” Bonnie laughed.

“I’ll go first,” Shiloh said. “A story. Let’s see, which story. Does it have to be true?”

“The bartender has changed her mind. Tell me if you ever fantasize about how your life would have been different if you’d been raised right here,” Bonnie said.

Shiloh sipped again. “Yes, I do, but I can’t imagine having Ezra as a father. Lord, can you see him if I came in wearing a strapless prom dress that was cut up to my hip on the side?”

Abby slowly shook her head from side to side.

“What are you thinking?” Bonnie asked. “You are definitely disagreeing with the voices in your head about something.”

“This shit isn’t so bad after the first initial burn. I was thinking about the look on Ezra’s face if I’d told him I was joining the army the week after graduation,” Abby said.

Bonnie curled up on the end of the sofa, the throw from the floor over her legs.

“What about you?” Shiloh asked.

“I like to imagine his expression when I told him that it was past time for me to go on birth control. With his views . . . hey, now I’m wondering if y’all’s mamas were virgins. I can’t imagine my mama being one, not as wild as she was,” Bonnie said.

Abby tilted her head to one side. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Thinking about her mother’s sex life gave her the willies. Or maybe it was the combination of such thoughts added to the moonshine.

“What are you snarling your nose about?” Bonnie asked.

“What you just said about our mamas. Y’all know that Ezra thought we’d take the money and run, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t know that. I think he wanted us to know each other,” Shiloh said.

“He wanted us to fight and bicker and disagree about everything,” Bonnie said. “But we’re getting our revenge on him by working together.”

“The sober one tells it like it is.” Abby reached across the recliner arm and patted her on the shoulder.