The Bourbon Thief(34)

“I’m here. Make it good,” he said. “It’s past my bedtime.”

She pursed her lips at him. She never did buy his protestations of innocent and godly behavior.

“I’m sorry I upset you.”

“That’s what your note said. I can’t imagine you’re dumb enough to think you wouldn’t upset me with what you told me.”

“I knew it would upset you. But I’m still sorry.”

“Fine. Forgiven. Now what?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I have ideas.”

“When you have ideas, I get very nervous.”

“Imagine how I feel.”

“How do you feel?” he asked. He saw the title of the book she’d been reading. The Bible. Not what he expected.

“About what?”

“About what you found out in your daddy’s note.”

She shrugged and wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them to her chest so she could rest her chin on them.

“I was sad,” she said. “I loved Daddy. Love Daddy. Judge Headley’s a good man, and he’s always been like an uncle to me. But it was hard to read the truth.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“He’s married, been married twenty years. He never seemed like the type to cheat, but I’ve given up thinking I know anybody. I don’t even know myself sometimes.”

“I don’t know you, either. You’re different now.”

“I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You did chores you didn’t have to do. I’ll say.”

Tamara grinned. “I miss the horses. I miss my Kermit.”

“I’m sure he’s somewhere missing you, too.”

“If he’s alive.”

“I’m sure he is. He’s a sturdy old boy. Did your mother tell you who bought them?”

“No. Momma and I haven’t exchanged ten words in a year and a half. Cora does all the note passing for us. Momma wouldn’t tell me who bought Kermit if I put a gun to her head. And believe me, I’ve thought of that.”

Levi climbed the steps and took a seat beside Tamara. He’d told himself he would maintain his distance from her. That resolution hadn’t lasted long.

“She shouldn’t punish Kermit by taking him from you for something I did. Bad enough she punished you.”

“Tell Momma that.”

“I’d rather not. She’d call me names and threaten to kill me again. It’s cute when you do it. Not so much when she does.”

“Momma shouldn’t have treated you the way she did. You deserve better.”

“We don’t always get what we deserve. The world doesn’t work like that.”

“It will someday,” she said.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” Levi leaned back and rested his elbows on the step behind her. “What the hell is that smell?”

“It’s the angels’ share,” Tamara said. She turned around to face him. “You know, it’s the bourbon that evaporates while it’s aging in the barrels. Smells weird, right?”

“Can’t tell if I like it or hate it.”

“I can’t, either. It’s kind of gross and yet I keep sniffing it.”

“You’re the heir to the biggest bourbon distillery in Kentucky. You can’t call it gross.”

He’d meant to make her laugh, but she didn’t.

“I’m not a fan of our bourbon,” she said. “Don’t tell.”

“Not a soul,” Levi said. “I always thought it was pretty good myself. Tastes like apples. Apples and licorice.”

“Proof you’re a Maddox right there,” Tamara said. “Everybody tastes the apple in Red Thread. They say only Maddoxes can taste the anise. A Maddox tongue is made for tasting the bittersweet.”

“Lucky me. What do I win?”

“You don’t sound happy. Lot of people would be happy to wake up with Maddox for a last name.”

“No,” he said. “I’m not happy. Did you really think I would be?”

“I guess it was a shock.”

“It was and it wasn’t.”

Tamara wrinkled her nose, something he remembered her always doing when he said something to her that confused her. She was about to launch into a series of annoying personal questions. He decided to cut her off at the pass.

“You know anything about Plato?” Levi asked.

“The gooey stuff?”

He glared at her.

“I know,” she said. “The philosopher. I’m young, but I’m not dumb.”

“Well, Plato had this theory—anamnesis. He believed all knowledge was innate. It’s like...fish. Fish in a pond. The fish is knowledge. You own the pond. And you’re up on the dock trying to catch the fish. You already have the fish in a way, since they’re in your pond. But until you catch a fish, you don’t really have the fish. That’s why sometimes when you’re learning something, a math formula or something, it suddenly clicks and it’s not like you’re learning it but discovering something you already know.”

“I’ve felt that before,” Tamara said. “Like when you find that one puzzle piece in a jigsaw puzzle you’ve been working on for days, and then you finish the rest of the puzzle in a few minutes. It all comes together and you wonder how you didn’t see it before when the piece was right there.”