Wildwood Flower

The Virginia sun beat down hard on the dusty, dry roads. Dirt kicked up behind the old pickup, Henry stood on his porch, cigarette danging from between his weathered lips, watching Forrest guide the automobile to a stop. Henry could hear the moonshine rattling in the bed of the truck, the rattling jars made him realize just how thirsty this heat had him.

“Afternoon, Henry,” Forrest said, stepping out from behind the wheel of the truck. The man before him was feared by damn near everyone in Franklin county, but when Henry looked to him he could sometimes see the boy that would come around lookin' to swim in his pond.

“Forrest,” Henry said with a nod as he stepped down from the shade of his porch and into the hot sun.

“I got your 'shine here,” Forrest said, his hands dug in the pockets of his cardigan as he squinted against the sun.

“Much appreciated,” Henry grinned before taking a long drag on his cigarette, “But normally I'd be seein' your brother droppin' off my jars. What's got you out deliverin' to an old man?”

“Can't get nothin' past you,” Forrest said.

“Never could,” Henry looked out to his barren fields for a moment, the songs of birds filling the silence before he spoke again, “I heard that new special deputy is kickin' up a fuss.”

“Mmm,” Forrest nodded, “He's what I'm here to talk about.”

“Go on,” Henry urged, offering Forrest a cigarette wordlessly. Forrest took one, producing a pack of matches from one pocket to ignite the cigarette

“He's already had people snoopin' around and I don't want you to get caught up in anything on account of them stills we got on your land,” Forrest explained, “Ain't fair for you to get flack for my doin'. I'm goin' to have Jack and Cricket take 'em down in the next few days.”

“Like hell you are,” Henry scoffed, crossing his thin arms. Forrest cocked an eyebrow as he looked at Henry, despite his age the older man was still as spry and defiant as ever, “This here's my land and I won't have the likes of some city slicker tellin' me what I can and can't have on it. People been moonshinin' in these hills since before that prick was thought of, who's he to say we can't? You leave them stills where they are, Forrest.”

“I can understand your position Henry,” Forrest said with a smirk, “I can't justify you getting' yourself in trouble for-”

“I don't want to hear any more about it, Forrest. The stills are stayin',” Henry was damned near the only man in Franklin county that could get away with speakin' to Forrest Bondurant like that. Henry waited for Forrest to finish his cigarette in silence before he spoke again, “Now, come on inside and have some dinner. Nora's fixed some chicken and cornbread.”

“Thank you for the invitation, Henry, but-”

“I didn't ask you, Forrest,” Henry grinned.



It had been a week since the dance and Forrest's thoughts, from time to time, would conjure up an image of Nora sitting beside him in his old truck, the moonlight shining off of her perfect alabaster skin, her dark hair a perfect wreath around her face. Often these thoughts came to him before bed, when he lay in silence alone with his mind, some nights his bed would feel especially lonesome. It had been a long time since Forrest had shared his bed with a woman and his thoughts made him feel every last minute of that time.

Forrest trailed behind Henry into the house, the old wooden floors creaking beneath him in protest as he found his way to the dining room.

“Nori, we need another place setting,” Henry called, “We got company.”

“Yes, Poppa,” Her soft, bright voice called from the kitchen and just a moment later, she followed with a plate and silverware in hand.

“Hello, Ma'am,” Forrest said politely, his eyes taking her in. She wore a plain yellow dress with a white apron, her hair pinned back loosely, a smudge of flour on her cheek. He was happy to see her again, to get another chance to steal a few looks at her.

“Hello Forrest,” Nora smiled, he thought he caught a look of surprise in her eyes as he removed his hat. She set him a place at the table, her fingers placing each piece delicately and with care, Forrest did his best not to stare.

“Nora here's a good cook,” Henry complimented his granddaughter as she finished, “Haven't eaten this good since before my Bessie died.”

“Thank you, Poppa,” Nora smiled, “It'll be just another minute.”

Forrest wanted to say something, to make her smile, but he remained silent and watched her disappear back into the kitchen.

“Well, let's have a seat,” Henry said, seating himself at the head of the table. Forrest seated himself at the opposite end of the small table, knowing Nora would be seated on either side of him.



At the table, food spread out beautifully before them, Nora sat to Forrest's left. Everything turned out just the way she'd wanted it to and she was happy to have their guest joining them. Forrest had floated in and out of Nora's thoughts for the last week, his handsome face replacing Mr. Darcy's as she made her way through Pride and Prejudice once more. Nora knew her thoughts were misplaced, she knew nothing about Forrest other than his hand in running moonshine and his stoic demeanor. Maybe it was that she had read too many books, but she believed that there was more to him than his business and his aura of ruthlessness.

“I think we'd better thank the Lord for this fine meal,” Poppa said from the head of the table, taking Nora's hand as well as Hadley's. Nora, her heart beating in a quickened rhythm within her chest, held her hand out to Forrest. Her hand fit easily into his much larger one, her smooth skin a stark contrast against his calloused palm. She bowed her head, not in prayer, but in enjoyment, “Lord, we come before you today as a thankful people for the bounty you have bestowed upon us. Thank you for providing us with nourishment not only for our bodies, but for our souls. In your name I ask protection over all at this table, guide us, Lord, and keep us close to you,” Poppa's prayer was wonderful, and it wasn't that she wasn't thankful, but Nora slowly opened her eyes and lifted her head. When she turned to look at Forrest she found that he was already looking at her. Their eyes met, studying each other in the quietness as Poppa finished the prayer.

“Amen,” Poppa said.

“Amen,” That was her Momma, who sounded far off.

“Amen,” Forrest repeated, his deep drawl making the word sound almost musical.

“Amen,” Nora managed, bringing her attention back in front of her. She slowly removed her hand from his, letting her fingers brush against his skin as she focused on the meal before here. Now her heart was beating like a hummingbird's.



Nora was a good cook, there was no question about it. Forrest ate slowly in an effort to conceal his enjoyment of the meal, it'd been a long damn time since he'd had anything this good. At the Blackwater Jack was usually the one manning the stove, much to everyone's dismay. His youngest brother wasn't the best cook, but both Forrest and Howard were useless in a kitchen. At least Jack could manage a few simple things, the Bondurant brothers ate scrambled eggs and toast pretty frequently.

“What d'ya think, Forrest?” Henry asked him before taking a bite of cornbread.

“It's a fine meal,” Forrest said, a subtle, barely readable smile on his face.

Henry grinned, “Ya'll still lookin' for someone down at Blackwater?”

“Mhm,” Forrest said with a nod, putting his fork down as he realized the direction the conversation was about to take.

“You should bring on Nora here,” Henry said, gesturing at the girl with his fork, “Get her out of the house and out into the world.”

“Poppa,” Nora said, her cheeks going crimson at her grandfather's suggestion.

“Henry,” Nora's mother said at nearly the same time, her eyes narrowing at her father in law. It didn't take much for Forrest to guess that she had her own opinion about her daughter working for him.

No would be the correct answer right now, it would surely save him a lot of trouble – the type of men that hung around Blackwater would be very interested in a pretty girl like Nora. That thought sent a trace of jealousy up Forrest's spine as he tried to come up with a response.

“Ah, I'm just stirrin' up trouble,” Henry said, waving off Hadley's sour look and getting back to his dinner.



Later that night as Forrest laid in bed, his thoughts toying with the idea of Nora spending time at Blackwater Station. He remembered the way her hand felt in his, her skin so soft and the gentleness of her touch, he wondered if she was that soft everywhere. Forrest imagined her in his kitchen, in the yellow dress she'd worn today, looking just as beautiful. He thought of what it would be like to walk up behind her and place his hands on her hips, to lean down and whisper a delicate kiss against her neck. He could almost feel her body pressed against his as Nora's imagined image giggled and turned to look at him with her haunting blue eyes. Sleep came effortlessly, Forrest's thoughts blending seamlessly into a dream, his last conscious thought was a longing to feel her in the flesh.