Page 115 of In These Hills

He peered up at her. “At least he’s able to work it off by riding that bicycle of his.”

Maybe it was his barbed wit or the image of poor Mr. Prince pushing that one-wheeled bicycle all the way through town to the distillery, but Josephine had to laugh.

He managed a smile. “Ah, Mrs. Dunham, if only I could bottle that, I’d make a fortune.” He shrugged. “Or . . . another one.”

It took her a moment to realize what he was referring to. She shook her head. The man was a shameless flirt, even though he meant nothing by it. It seemed to come naturally to him. Yet for all of the differences between them, and there were many, she would actually miss Jack Daniel very much when the time came to leave Lynchburg. His actions toward her had been more than generous, which made what she still intended to do all the more difficult.

“Dodge!” Mr. Daniel called when the front door opened. “Just the man I need to see.”

Dodge nodded a “good morning” to Josephine, then frowned when Mr. Daniel rose and started limping toward the safe. “What happened to you, Uncle Jack?”

“I’ll tell you what happened to him.” Josephine pointed toward the safe. “He finally just hauled off and kicked it!”

“You didn’t.” Disbelief swept Dodge’s face.

“Dodge, this infernal, cast-iron demon has been my nemesis almost from the day I got it!” He grimaced, hand resting on the safe to steady himself. “If you’ll get out the gauger’s book, I want to look over the figures before Mr. Prince gets here.”

Tempted to watch over Dodge’s shoulder as he turned the dial on the tumblers, Josephine refrained. A few minutes with that ledger was all she needed. Now if Mr. Daniel would only take his customary morning walk around the distillery.

“How’s Bethie doing?” Mr. Daniel asked, easing into one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Everybody in town’s talking about what happened.”

Dodge handed him the ledger. “She’s already much better. Doc said it was a sprain and should heal within a week or two. But she’s milking it for all it’s worth.”

“And how about you, Mrs. Dunham.” Mr. Daniel looked over. “Bet that was a first. Wild boars charging at you.”

“Yes, it was. I’m glad to hear Bethie’s doing well, and I’m especially grateful for Mr. Coburn’s quick reflexes that day.”

Mr. Daniel smirked. “Oh he’s got quick reflexes all right. You know that’s how he got his name, don’t you?”

“She doesn’t need to hear that story, Uncle Jack.”

“Yes, sirree,” Mr. Daniel continued undaunted. “How old were you? About fifteen or so?”

Dodge shook his head. “I’m not contributing to this.”

Mr. Daniel’s expression turned indulgent. “Bunch of us were up at the farm. It was early fall. I can still smell the crispness in the air and that faint tang of whiskey mash rolling up the hill. A shipment of new bulls had just arrived from nearby Lois, and the hands were unloading them from a rickety old stock cart.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how that old cart held up under the weight of those three bulls, even for the handful of miles between towns. Anyway, a much younger Mr. Coburn here had been working on the farm for a while, doing odd jobs. But on that particular day, he was helping to get the bulls into the corral.”

Josephine glanced at Dodge who seemed intent on not paying attention.

“Anyway, the older hands were shouting orders and swinging ropes, prodding the bulls down the ramp and through the gate when the last bull, a massive brute of a beast, started down. He was snorting, swinging those horns from side to side. Dodge, you remember how big he was?”

“Like I could ever forget. I thought I was going to die that day.” He offered a self-deprecating smile.

Mr. Daniel laughed. “I heard the groan of that ramp then a loud crack! The plank snapped and that bull, he reared up and gave a bellow that shook the earth. Then he charged straight for a group of old-timers from town who’d come to watch the unloading. I remember thinking they were done for, and they likely would’ve been, too. But for Dodge here.” Pride softened his tone. “Mrs. Dunham, you should have seen him. In a flash, he ran toward that bull, yelling and waving. That beast skidded to a stop, sent dust and dirt flying everywhere. Men were running, screaming, Loose bull!” Mr. Daniel’s gaze grew hazy with memory, his focus moving to Dodge. “I’d never seen anything like it before in my life, or since. The way you dove this way and that when that bull charged you. How he didn’t gore you five times over, son, I’ll never know. Then how you got him into the corral and hopped back over that fence like nothing happened. All the hands were laughing and cheering. That was some mighty fine dodgin’ you did, they all said. And—” He looked back at Josephine. “The name just stuck.”

She stared. “How on earth did you do that?”

Dodge shrugged. “Didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Oh you had a choice, all right.” Mr. Daniel pointed at him. “That was the day I knew you were special. That you had a gift.”

“For what?” Dodge laughed. “Dodging bulls?”

“For doing what was best for others despite the cost to yourself.” Mr. Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “And also a gift with animals. No one else could ever handle Goliath like you did.” He glanced at Josephine. “That’s what we named that bull. He’d actually let Dodge get close enough to rub his neck.”

“He really was a gentle soul,” Dodge said.

“Gentle soul, nothing! He looked at everybody else like they were a target ready to be run through. All except for you . . . Hezekiah.”