Bootleg Springs Series Bonus Epilogue Read online

  Taking it out, he turned it over. He could make out ears and a nose. Four legs with big paws. A tail. And just one eye.

  “I made it for you,” Jackson said. “Uncle Jameson helped a little.”

  “This is Cash?” Gibson asked.

  “Yeah,” Jackson nodded enthusiastically. “Do you like it?”

  Gibson crouched down so he could look his son in the eyes. “Buddy, I love it. I’ll put him in my workshop so I can look at him every day.”

  The smile on his son’s face lit up the world. He wrapped his arms around Gibson’s neck. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

  “Merry Christmas, son,” Gibson said, hugging his boy maybe just a shade too tight. “I love you.”

  Jackson planted a loud kiss on his cheek. “Love you too!” He wriggled free and ran off to join his cousins in playing with their new toys. Gibson stood and Jameson caught his eye. He held up the clay dog and Jameson raised his beer. They shared a smile and a nod that made Gibson’s throat feel thick again.

  He turned and coughed into his fist. The whole damn family was choking him up today.

  Callie sidled up to him, baby-free for the moment. Bowie had snatched Joe from Scarlett, and he and Cassidy were making him belly laugh with a game of peek-a-boo.

  “What did Jack give you?” she asked. “He insisted on doing everything himself. Wouldn’t even let me help wrap it.”

  Gibson held up the dog his son had sculpted. “He made Cash.”

  “Oh my god, that’s so freaking cute,” Callie said.

  “It’s not just cute, it’s fucking precious,” Gibson said, setting it down reverently on the island.

  Callie laughed and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Family gossip: Cass and Bow are thinking about another kid.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, glancing at his brother, currently making goofy faces at baby Joe. “About time.”

  “Cassidy was asking me about having multiple kids, and Bowie was asking Jonah about adoption,” Callie said. “They’re worried about messing up their family dynamic. Ava is basically the easiest child on the planet. I think they’re afraid if they have another one, he or she might be like…”

  “Like Scarlett,” Gibson said with a laugh.

  “Or you,” Callie said, squeezing him.

  “That would be a disaster,” he said. “Thankfully ours all take after their mama.”

  “I don’t know, that little one could go either way yet,” Callie said.

  Gibson chuckled. Baby Joe had been a bit of a surprise. But he couldn’t imagine life without his little man. Hell, he couldn’t imagine life without any of them. His two sons. His two sweet girls. His beautiful wife. Their dogs. Family was everything. And part of him felt a deep sorrow that Jonah and Connie Bodine never grasped that truth.

  “What’s going on out there?” Callie asked, nodding toward the deck doors.

  Scarlett and Devlin were outside having what appeared to be a very animated conversation.

  “They aren’t fighting, are they?” Callie asked.

  “Nah, they ain’t fighting,” Gibson said. “Scar hasn’t tried to bite him yet.”

  Gibson watched as Devlin grabbed Scarlett, picking her up off her feet, and twirled her around. Scarlett threw her head back, her dark hair streaming out behind her, an expression of pure joy lighting up her face.

  “Looks like something good,” Callie said. “Maybe she just told him what she got him for Christmas.”

  He pulled his wife in closer and took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. “I bet it’s something like that.”

  Devlin burst inside, dragging a laughing Scarlett by the hand. “Y’all! We’re pregnant!” he shouted over the noise.

  The house went quiet like a record scratch.

  “And Devlin said y’all, y’all!” Scarlett added.

  A new level of chaos exploded. Scarlett and Devlin’s twins hurled themselves off the coffee table and into their parents’ arms. Cassidy, impatient with the family hug, shoved a twin out of the way and grabbed Scarlett in a tearful embrace. Devlin juggled both girls and the congratulations of the entire rest of the family.

  The kids, sensing relaxed disciplinarians, tackled Devlin to the floor in an aggressive celebration.

  Gibson caught Scarlett’s eye when Cassidy finally let her go and winked.

  Someone called for a toast, and in seconds Jameson and Jonah were in the kitchen, popping the corks off champagne bottles.

  “I sure love that noise,” Scarlett chirped. “Nothing says celebration like a champagne bottle popping.”

  “You may listen, but you may not partake,” June said sternly.

  Bowie lined up juice glasses for the kids—as well as Gibson, Leah Mae, and Scarlett.

  Once drinks were distributed, Devlin held up his glass. “To Scarlett Bodine McAllister for making my life one miracle after another.”

  The collective “awh” came from the women in the room.

  “To Scarlett!” the crowd of them said together.

  “That was a nice sentiment,” June said. “I would like to go read now.”

  George held up a sparkly gift bag with festive piglets on it. “Got you covered, June Bug.”

  “Christmas pigs and a sports biography,” June nodded her appreciation. “You excel at being a husband.”

  “Y’all, I’ve got something to say, too,” Gibson said, clearing that dang tight throat again. Cash and Potato trotted over and sat at his feet, looking up at him, tails wagging.

  Callie’s eyes sparkled at him and made him feel like he could probably get the words out.

  “All right. Christmas isn’t a bad time to stop for a minute and look around at what we have. It doesn’t seem so long ago that this family was a lot smaller. Maybe we ain’t perfect. It’s only a matter of time before one of the dogs chases Scarlett’s cat and knocks over the tree or the kids try to sled down the stairs on sleeping bags or someone starts a food fight. Kids, maybe keep it to marshmallows this year. If y’all are gonna throw Jell-O again, take it outside.”

  The kids giggled. Last year’s Jell-O fight had been epic but a hell of a mess to clean up afterward.

  “I guess what I’m saying is, we have a damn good family. And the fact that it keeps right on growing—” he said, nodding to Scarlett and Leah Mae. “Makes it that much better. Things could have turned out a lot different for all of us. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about how lucky we are.”

  He had to stop for a second because his damn throat was closing up again. He took a quick breath and raised his cup.

  “To us. Merry Christmas, y’all,” Gibson said, his voice cracking just enough that Callie launched herself into his arms, spilling her champagne and his apple juice.

  “To us! Merry Christmas!” rose the chorus of voices.

  “The Grandmas and Grandpas are here,” Scarlett’s twins reported peering through binoculars from the landing on the staircase.

  “Oh, lord. I haven’t even got the pickin’ food out yet,” Scarlett yelped.

  “Scarlett, you didn’t cook did you?” Leah Mae asked as Shelby hauled her to her feet to greet the new arrivals.

  “Shelby did the cookin’, but I swear I helped, and I didn’t burn a damn thing,” Scarlett shot back.

  “She burned six-dozen sugar cookies,” Shelby reported under her breath. “The fire department was on standby.”

  The grandmas and grandpas and nanas and pappies funneled through the front door in a seemingly endless procession. Jenny and Jimmy Bob. Harlan and Nadine. Granny Louisa and Estelle arrived with Gram-Gram. James and Darlene Thompson. The McCallisters. Clay and Betsy Larkin. All arrived with covered dishes and even more gifts.

  “You’re gonna need a bigger house if this family keeps growing,” Jonah told Scarlett before swooping in to give his mother a peck on the cheek.

  “Let me at those grandbabies,” Jenny said.

  They produced appetizers, popped more champagne, and generally sprawled out to catch up. Everyone ate and
drank. Talked and laughed. The kids played.

  Jedidiah the Cat hissed from his perch six feet up the tree. Potato and Billy Ray got in a tug of war over a dog toy while Katherine the pot-bellied pig shoved her snout under the blanket where June cuddled with her son and their books.

  Scarlett and Devlin’s girls tried to wrap up their uncle Jonah with the discarded wrapping paper. He pretended to break free with a big roar, earning the squeals and screams from the kids. The dogs barked and yipped, joining the delighted celebration.

  Jenny and Jimmy Bob arrived with more food and were almost knocked over by the hoard of happy kids looking for Christmas hugs from Grandma Jenny and Grandpa Jimmy Bob.

  “When is Jayme gettin’ in?” Bowie asked.

  “She and her wife are en route,” Cassidy reported. “They’ll be here with their daughter in time for lunch. They had breakfast with their folks this morning.”

  “Hey, y’all, we still need to do the Bootleg Swindle,” Cassidy called.

  The gift exchange had become a Bodine-McAllister-Thompson family tradition. It had started simply enough, as a white elephant gag gift exchange. But in true Bodine fashion, it had morphed into something more complicated and rowdier.

  Bowie had been the genius to introduce the red poker chip. Whoever found the red poker chip in their package got a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill.

  To even it out, they also got dunked in the lake.

  To make it fair, Jenny did the honors of placing the poker chip in one of the packages ahead of time so no one would know where it was. Unlike the rest of the family, she was uncorruptible. They’d all tried to bribe or threaten, but the stubbornness in the family wasn’t relegated to only the Bodine side of things.

  “Okay, but I don’t want to go first,” George said. He had a knack for picking the poker chip. He’d gotten it three times—a family record. Luckily, he was a good sport and jumped off the dock rather than making everyone try to lift him.

  With reluctance and excitement, they all drew numbers. And the swap began with enthusiasm. Packages were chosen and swapped. Some were stolen when their owners weren’t watching. It was all part of the Swindle.

  “Ready?” Devlin asked, once everyone had a present.

  Anticipation crackled in the air. The gifts were often odd, silly, homemade, or most often legitimately terrible—like the singing fish Gibson had gotten a few years ago. But the real question was always who would wind up with the poker chip.

  “Go!” Devlin and Scarlett shouted together.

  The adults tore into their gifts with as much gusto as the kids. Callie held baby Joe on her hip while the older three peered over the back of the couch, hoping one of their parents would get the poker chip.

  “I am not the loser,” June declared, holding up an XXL sweatshirt that said Moonshine Mama.

  Callie dumped the contents of her gift—a battery-operated fly swatter and a pack of baby wipes—on the coffee table and let out a sigh of relief. “Not it.”

  More “not me’s” filled the air as gift after gift was unveiled. Gibson’s daughters—too excited to wait any longer—jumped in to help him rip open his present.

  “Daddy got the chip! Daddy got the chip!” they cried.

  Gibson let out a long breath and held the red poker chip between his thumb and forefinger. “Shit.”

  “Daddy said ‘shit’!”

  “Get the prisoner!” Scarlett’s twins yelled simultaneously, swooping in with a length of pink rope and a roll of scotch tape.

  Gibson dropped the chip and nimbly darted through the kitchen and out the door. Cash and Potato tore after him, barking up a storm. Billy Ray and the Bodine brothers gave chase. But Jonah was faster. He tackled Gibson headlong in the snow.

  “Don’t fight it, Gibs,” Bowie said, taking hold of one of his arms. “This just has to happen.”

  “It’s how we do things,” Devlin said, clearly enjoying himself. He took a leg.

  Jameson and Jonah got his other limbs. George and the twins were there in case Gibson needed further restraint.

  “Ah hell, guys, it’s freezing out,” Gibson said. “How about a raincheck? Y’all can dunk me twice next summer.”

  “Not a chance, Bodine,” Callie laughed. “You’re going in the drink.”

  He growled at his wife, mostly for show, and she gave him a smug smile.

  “This is a stupid family tradition,” Gibson yelled.

  “Uncle Gibs said ‘stupid,’” Ava sang. The rest of the kids ooohed their disapproval.

  Gibson didn’t resist—much—as his brothers hauled him down the path to the dock. Everyone followed—from the humans and pets alike—all chanting dunk him, dunk him, dunk him in unison.

  They took him to the edge of the dock and, wasting no time, threw him into the water.

  He plunged beneath the surface, thankful the hot springs kept the lake lukewarm, even in the winter. He came up sputtering.

  His family—those crazy bastards—all stood on the dock cheering and hollering.

  He swam the few feet back to the dock and reached a hand toward his wife. “Scar, grab baby Joe.”

  His sister reacted without a second’s hesitation, plucking Joe from Callie’s arms. Before Callie knew what was happening, Gibson grabbed her and yanked her into the water with him.

  Callie came up laughing and splashed water at Gibson. “You ass!”

  He scooped her into his arms and then dunked them both, pressing a watery kiss to her mouth beneath the surface.

  “Ah, what the hell.” Bowie wrapped his arms around Cassidy, then leaned over the edge toppling them both into the water.

  Next thing Gibson knew, people—and dogs—were jumping in around him. Scarlett passed Joe to Jenny and with a whoop, she and Devlin plunged in. Their twins grabbed hands with Bowie and Cassidy’s daughter and dove off the dock with a chorus of yells.

  Leah Mae recorded the shenanigans while Jameson took their girls’ hands and jumped off the edge. Jonah pulled Shelby in with him and their son dove in after them.

  George beat them all. He got a running start on the dock and cannon-balled, sending a spray of water into the air. His daughter carefully removed her new jersey, folded it neatly, and then copied her dad with a big splash. June and their son emptied their pockets.

  “This is a weird tradition, Mom,” he said to her.

  “Sometimes the best things don’t make sense,” June said, running a hand through his hair. “Would you like me to push you in?”

  “Nah. I’ve got it,” he sighed, and hopped feet first into the water.

  June followed suit and swam out to George who was floating on his back-spitting water at the sky like a fountain.

  “Do you know how many units of urine are in a gallon of lake water?” June asked.

  “Let’s see if we’ve still got it,” Shelby told Jonah.

  “Come at me, Shelby honey,” Jonah said. She swam to him, and he lifted her out of the water for a split second of Dirty Dancing perfection.

  “Why do you guys always have to do that when we get in the water?” their daughter groaned.

  Jenny laughed and handed baby Joe to Leah Mae. “We’ll go get towels.”

  It was a process to get everyone back on the dock. The big kids ran back to the house—followed by the dogs—dripping wet and shrieking about the cold ground. Jenny and Jimmy Bob brought armfuls of towels, and the parents helped their kids bundle up to go inside.

  Callie stood on the dock, her hair and clothes dripping. She and Gibson wrapped bright beach towels around their girls and sent them running inside to get dry by the fireplace.

  “What are we going to do about clothes?” she asked, plucking at her sodden pajama pants.

  He pulled her into his arms, feeling her body press against him. “I packed an extra change of clothes for everyone in the back of the SUV in case there was another Jell-O fight.”

  She draped her arms around his shoulders and tilted her face up so he could kiss her. “You are very
good at this parenting thing, Gibson Bodine.”

  “Merry Christmas, Callie Bodine,” he murmured between kisses.

  “Merry Christmas, Gibson Bodine,” she sighed happily.

  They walked back inside, arm in arm, to the chaos of a Bodine family Christmas. Ribbons and wrapping paper. Food and drinks. Wet dogs, laughing children, and happy adults. Gibson hugged Callie again, kissing her forehead.

  “Thanks, Mom and Dad,” he whispered to the framed photo on the mantel. He felt a lightness, a brightness, as if this moment was etching itself onto his heart. Rough edges sanded down with gratitude and forgiveness.

  This woman. This family. This life. It was all beyond his wildest dreams.

  Keep reading for updates on some of your favorite characters and a peek behind the scenes into the making of Bootleg Springs.

  Where are they now?

  Judge Kendall is serving a life sentence in prison for, as the fine folks in Bootleg say, “Bein’ a no-good, two-faced, incorrigible asshole.”

  * * *

  Misty Lynn followed in her mama’s footsteps and ran off. She works part-time as a cashier in an adult video store and has been married—and divorced—three times. Her car was just repossessed.

  * * *

  Henrietta VanSickle reached enlightenment, cashed in the seven-figure stock portfolio no one knew she had, and moved to Blue Moon Bend. She winters in the Caribbean and started a scholarship fund for Bootleg Springs high school seniors interested in finance and world religions.

  * * *

  Mona Lisa McNugget Number Six got herself into a love triangle with Rufus the free-range goat and Sampson the stray kitten.

  * * *

  Jayme, the badass attorney, made partner in her firm and immediately implemented a hostile takeover, ousting the other two managing partners. She and her wife, Alice, are co-conspirators in a campaign to convince their teenage daughter that college—not bumming around Alaska and Europe for a year—is the better path to a successful future.