Page 140 of In These Hills

He looked at her.

“Well, yes, a little. But you have a beautiful home and this is a lovely gathering. Well done to your nephew, Mr. Motlow. That said, I have learned to expect nothing but excellence from you, sir.”

“My goodness, high praise, indeed, especially coming from you. And hard-earned, I’ll say.”

She chuckled. “Judging by the size of this gathering, it looks as though most of New York City showed up.”

“It is a good showing. More than half are established vendors already selling Old No. 7 in their establishments. But the rest are potentials we’re working on, Lem and me. Just you wait, Mrs. Dunham, they’ll be ordering Old No. 7 by the wagonload.”

While she couldn’t share his enthusiasm for that particular outcome, she had to appreciate his entrepreneurial gift. “You’re a natural-born salesman, Mr. Daniel.”

“Oh I don’t know about natural, Mrs. Dunham. I just learned while I was young how to talk to people. But mainly how to listen. That’s the key, I think. That and making the best-tasting whiskey in the world.” He wriggled his mustache. “Have you seen my gold medal?”

She laughed, easily understanding why women flocked to this man.

“I do credit most of my success to two men who helped me very early on in life. One a preacher, the other a slave.”

“George Green actually told me about them both, sir. Especially his father, Nearest. I would have loved to have known him. Admittedly, though, I found it odd that a preacher would be teaching a young boy about whiskey.”

“Oh, Dan and his wife Mary Jane taught me about far more than that. They, along with Nearest and his family, accepted me, gave me a home, a purpose, a place where I felt like I was wanted, and where I could make a difference. That’s a mighty hefty gift to give a person in this life.”

She looked into Jack Daniel’s eyes and, in a blink, saw both the man and the boy, and caught a glimpse of where the seed of his generosity to so many—including her—had been sown. And to people whose opinions differed so vastly from his own.

“Is he still alive?” she asked softly. “Dan Call?”

He shook his head. “He’s gone now too. Died last year. Everybody you love eventually seems to leave you, one way or the other, don’t they?”

Her throat closed, and it was all she could do to answer. “Yes,” she whispered, thinking of her family, of Sarah, her students. And even of him, and the people in this town who, so quickly, had come to mean so much. “It certainly feels that way.”

As they danced, she found her attention instinctively drawn to Dodge. At present, he was dancing . . . with Rowena Gibbs. A twinge of jealousy flickered inside her as she watched them together, and she couldn’t help but feel an equal twinge of satisfaction at the barely concealed frustration in his expression.

The music ended and everyone applauded. She thanked Mr. Daniel for the dance and turned to go.

“Oh no, Mrs. Dunham. I believe I said two dances, did I not? And I most definitely want to share this next one with you.”

The air suddenly filled with the rich, melodic swell of brass instruments, joined soon by woodwind and percussion, and Josephine searched the room until she saw the fully outfitted cornet band situated not far from the grand piano. She looked back at Mr. Daniel and caught that customary twinkle in his eyes.

“Mrs. Dunham, may I present The Silver Cornet Band of Lynchburg, Tennessee.”

She shook her head. “Your doing, I take it.”

“I might have had a small hand in it. After all, music is my first love. Well, after whiskey and the company of beautiful women.” He winked. “We outfitted the whole ensemble from the Sears, Roebuck & Company catalog. Best two hundred and seventy-seven dollars and seventy cents I’ve ever spent.” He grasped her hand. “Now, Mrs. Dunham, I trust you know the waltz.”

“I did at one time, sir. But I’ll now have to lean heavily on your lead.”

“Music to my ears, madam.” He swept her along on the dance floor, the melody of “The Merry Widow Waltz” rising and swirling around them.

When the music finally ended, thunderous applause rose, and the band immediately launched into “The Washington Post,” a lively, energetic tune. A few couples continued dancing, but most moved off to the side to enjoy the music.

“Thank you for the pleasure of your company, Mrs. Dunham.”

“Likewise, Mr. Daniel. It was, indeed, a pleasure.”

He looked up at her. “What is it about you that makes me so at ease in your company?”

She smiled. “Perhaps it’s because I’m the one woman in this room not completely under your spell, sir.” She glanced around. “However, you must be aware that women are watching you even now, hoping you’ll ask them next.”

He sighed and gave his vest a sharp tug. “Yes, there’s much to be done in that arena. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mrs. Dunham.”