KC and the Moonshine Band

"Have you now? Musta run outta boys to blow and graduated to the ladies, huh?" The woman nodded to me. "No offence darlin'."

I bristled but kept my response civil. "None taken."

She drained her coffee. "I'm done here -- whatever this is, let's take it outside."

We followed her out onto a parking lot little better than the one back down the strip and she walked towards her battered Ford Taurus. At the car, she turned to us.

"Sorry, out of order in there. Sight of two pretty ladies together kinda tears me up. When you're of my persuasion in a town like this - best people don't know, yeah? Have to travel a long way to get my kicks if you catch my drift. Glad you saw the light, KC."

KC touched her arm. "Sorry to hear that Peggy, apology accepted. The reason I came by was to thank you. I'm twenty-seven years old now and I've sorted my shit out and got me a girl and a job I love. If it hadn't been for you kickin' my ass into jail and givin' me a right dressin' down, I'd probably not have seen twenty. I said I'd never come back, but since we were close I thought I'd see if you were still around and tell you how grateful I was."

Peggy got in her car. "Well, looks like you made a go of yourself, so something good came out of this one-horse town. Kinda wish I'd made a move on ya back in the day knowin' what I now know. Thanks for droppin' by."

She closed the door and reversed out. She wound the window down and gave KC a little nod. "Good to see ya. Take care, KittiCat Warner." She roared off in a haze of dust.

KC was silent for a long while. "Don't think that went too well."

"KC, did you see her face in the diner? Thousand-yard stare. Haunted look."

"So?"

"So she drove off with a huge smile on her face. Whatever else you got out of this detour, you just made her day."

"Maybe. Let's get outta here." We walked back to the car. "Shit, I half expect to see a seventeen-year-old me tryin' to wire it! You drive."

It only took a couple of minutes to clear the town. There was no sign of Jack Reacher trying to thumb a lift out. As we approached the town limit sign, she told me to stop. She got out. "Drive past the sign a way. I hitched out last time and never looked back. Gonna do it right this time."

I did as she asked and watched in the rear-view mirror as she walked past the sign. She unbuttoned her jeans in the middle of the road, hauled them down to her knees and bared her shapely buttocks, waving them back at the town, both hands flipping her middle fingers.

Her cry rent the hot afternoon air. "Kiss my fuckin' ass, Shitsville!"

She buttoned up and got back in the car. "See why I left?"

"Yep."

"Kick it, Massey. Get me outta here."

I pressed down hard and the town receded behind us. She never looked back. We were five miles out when I next spoke.

"KittiCat?"

Again there was a long silence, then it sounded as if she was forcing out every word. "Claire, I love you with all my heart, but if you say that out loud again, we're done. KittiCat Warner died a long time ago, back in that Godforsaken shithole we just left."

Suddenly there was an urgency in her voice. "Stop the car." When I ignored her, she became more urgent, almost shouting at me. "Pull over, Claire -- stop the fuckin' car!"

She got out and I was terrified it was to do something silly. I stepped out and she hugged me tightly. "Thank you for that, Claire. It was fuckin' hard for me, but I got it all out. Sorry I snapped, forgive me?"

"Of course I do, babe. Just glad I was there to help you through it. Must have taken a lot of guts. You're a brave girl, KC."

She gazed around at the desolate scene. "Thought I'd feel better'n this. I just feel empty." Her forehead touched mine. "How far's Vegas?"

"Probably about fifteen hundred miles. Why?"

"Then let's ditch the car and fly."

"KC, why?"

"Cuz I buried KittiCat seven years ago when I crossed the town limit. This time, I wanna bury the Warner part." She dropped to one knee on the hard top, her hand in mine. "I wanna be KC Massey, Claire. I wanna marry you in Vegas. What you say?"

I knelt down with her and took her face in my hands. "I'd be honoured, Miss Warner, but no Elvis impersonators, got it? And how about we become the Massey-Warners? Sounds very posh and English."

There was a tear in her eye. "Yeah, I like that idea. And no Elvis, I promise. We can make the Cowshits our honeymoon, yeah?"

"You'll have to learn to say 'Cotswolds'. It's very genteel."

"Ok, deal. But Vegas first?"

"Vegas it is."

"No -- second thoughts, there's a quiet spot I used to use back in the day a couple hundred yards down that track. Let's go make out. Vegas tomorrow."

It was three days after, but we didn't care. We were married and we loved each other. Soon after, she fell in love with the 'Cowshits'. We spent a month there and I showed her England in the early spring. She loved the pubs and even liked the beer. She laughed at the funny black and white cows in the fields and in Bath, my favourite city, said she had never seen things so old. She was less enthusiastic about London before we flew back, but it was an amazing trip and I was so glad to share it with my new wife.

We returned to Beaver Creek in time for the new season, full of hope.

Then Evaline Eriksen dropped a small, hand-held nuclear device into our perfect world.

On our first morning back, the senior staff were called to a meeting in her cabin. Somehow, we all knew something big was coming. Over the winter, she had become ill and while it was not life-threatening, she needed months of treatment. The bottom line was, she had decided to sell up.

"Sorry to lay this on you my friends, but it's for the best. Word is out but there are no buyers at the moment so I'm afraid I don't know yet where this leaves you. I promise I will let you know as soon as I can."

There was a brief question and answer session but little was resolved and at the end of the meeting, we trooped out disconsolately. I was last out and was about to close the door behind me. I held my hand up to the guys.

"Hey, head back to the main house and wait for me, yeah? Just be a minute."

It was nearer twenty minutes, but I think they forgave me.

When I walked in, they were all standing by the bar area, beers in hand, concern on their faces. None of them even saw me approach they were so deep in conversation.

I had to raise my voice to be heard over the chatter. "Hey guys, guys... can I have the room for a moment please?"

The conversation stuttered to a halt and eight pairs of eyes turned to me, not knowing what to expect.

I took a deep breath. "Guys, Eveline said she'd promise to let you know as soon as she could if anything changed."

There were murmurs and nods all around.

"Well she asked me to tell you that the new owner says your jobs are safe as long as you want them."

It took a moment for it to sink in and by then, KC had leapt into my arms and was already in floods of tears.

Somehow, I had just bought a ranch.

Nine

The next two years were hard work but so rewarding. I wouldn't say we improved the place, but we kept Evie's ethos and on her occasional visits it was clear she approved of the small changes we had made. KC and I now lived in her cabin, Jed had moved on and Nathan was head wrangler. At some time in the previous summer it had become obvious that Nathan and Shauna were an item. We had suspected for some time but were delighted they were officially together at last.

We took the decision to stay open in the winter and offer snowmobile rides, as did many of the other ranches in the area. People came out from the ski resort and although it was quieter than the summer, it was still great fun and being in those surroundings in the snow was utterly magical.

As the new season approached, Shauna and KC arrived back from a trip into town in a flat panic. KC ran into our cabin, a look of horror on her face. "Claire, the Quiet Moose Tavern is all boarded up. Owner passed away and her son doesn't want to keep it going. Shit, it's a legend, babe. We gotta do something!"

The Quiet Moose was one of our favourite places back in town for burritos, beer and shitty country covers. I couldn't stand by and let it rot, so I cashed in my investment from the Thameside property and bought that as well. It had eight letting rooms and we refurbished them to boutique standard. It would be nice to have a place for our guests to stay in town before arriving at the ranch.

Burritos were a necessity, as of course was beer, so we decided to install our own microbrewery. We also had country cover bands on but if I said they were shitty, KC and Shauna would probably kill me.

I felt so proud on our opening night. The place was packed and the beer was going down a storm. My own favourite was 'CS Special', based on an old Cotswolds recipe. There was a black and white cow on the tap but only KC and I knew that the 'CS' stood for 'Cow Shit'.

I held my breath at eight o'clock when the lights went down in the main bar and the small stage was illuminated. Two girls walked towards their microphones, guitars around their necks. One was a redhead wearing a black Stetson, the other a tall, lean girl with a life-affirming smile. Behind them was a drumkit and a bass guitar on a stand and to the left, a Nord Stage 2 piano. I had always been a better keyboard player than guitar and it complemented the sound better.

The redhead stepped up to the mic.

"Hey y'all, welcome to the Grand Re-opening of the famous Quiet Moose Tavern. Hope y'all like the beer we've brewed specially for ya and hope you like our little band. Don't worry -- the real band will be on later -- we're just here to kick things off. After all, it's our bar, so we get to say who plays!"

She grinned across at me and pointed. "So if y'all don't like us, take it up with the management. Right, first up me and my bestie Shauna here are gonna play a little song that I've been meanin' to do for a long time now. Kinda sums up how I feel about the place I was born and dragged up in and seems appropriate to do it here and now as we're makin' a new start. Words kinda resonate, if ya catch my meaning. Used to be called Don't Go Back to Rockville but with apologies to Messrs Buck, Stipe, Mills and Berry from Athens, Georgia, I've taken a small liberty and renamed it."

There were tears in my eyes as she sang the chorus and over one hundred people joined in, exhorting her not to go back to Shitsville. This was where she belonged now, and it was where I belonged as well.

A huge cheer went up as she and Shauna brought the song to a close. "Thanks y'all. That was for a special lady who's with us tonight. I won't embarrass her but she knows who she is and what she means to me."

For once, KC didn't mean me. I glanced across to a booth in the corner where Peggy Durance sat with her arm around a plump, pretty blonde woman. She had finally gotten out of Shitsville herself and had contacted over forty ranches before she finally found the one where KC worked to thank her for giving her impetus to change her own life. It seemed that KC's visit really had gone quite well after all and we had invited her up for the opening as a guest of honour.

Peggy raised her glass towards KC who gave a tiny nod back, then gestured towards me with a grin. "Like to welcome our new keyboard player up to join us now. Been practisin' a while now -- she ain't very good, but she owns the joint and she's married to me, so I kinda had to let her into my band."

Feeling as nervous as I had done in years, I took my place behind the Nord to a small cheer and applause.

KC went on. "And from the Lonesome Drifters, we got Dean on the drums and Lyle on the bass back there. They'll be up later with the Drifters but for now, we are 'KC and the Moonshine Band', so let's rock the Quiet Moose!"

Somehow, I remembered all the right chords to all the songs and as the set ended, I almost wept silent tears of joy.

I just wished KC could try the beer we had so lovingly crafted, but it would be a while before she would be able to taste it. Only another four months. She took off her shiny new Gretsch twelve string and the bump was there for all to see.

It would be a wonderful place to bring him or her up, and when it became time to give them a brother or sister, it would be my turn.

KC and I would have a little Moonshine band of our own, and I couldn't wait to see what the future would bring for two strange, mismatched lovers from the Cowshits and Shitsville, here in our own little corner of Paradise.

The crowd hollered for more and grinning, KC handed me her guitar. "Ok, ok -- one more then. Gonna let Claire take the lead on this one."

For the second time in my life, I hit the opening E minor seventh chord and Shauna, Dean and Lyle came in with me.

Again, the song went out to the one I loved, but this time she was right there with me, singing harmonies and I was the happiest girl in the world.

Seven years earlier I had come to Beaver Creek ranch as a guest. Somehow, I was still there and I walked around like I owned the damned place.

I had every right to.

After all, I did own the damned place.

Author's Note

I wrote the scene with Claire's song at the BBQ shortly after the untimely death of Taylor Hawkins, the Foo Fighters drummer. I included Taylor's version of 'Times Like These' as a small tribute to a great musician who will be sadly missed.