Alice stood in the fading light of her hotel room, checking her face in the mirror over the dresser. She had sat on the bed to cry for a few minutes, more out of relief than anything else, but she certainly didn't want to give her hosts the impression she'd been crying. She had checked into the hotel after meeting Jack and Cricket but that hadn't been the end of her errands in town. She'd had to be followed like a mother duck by four young boys who worked as porters for the hotel, with dollies, over to the Franklin post office where the postmaster had been happy to see her, or rather, happy to be rid of her, where she'd learned that her trunks had been an inconvenience at best. Then she walked along to a bakery in town where she'd bought pies. She vaguely remembered from her childhood when her father had brought with him fine Scotch whiskey to his foreman whenever their train would rattle into a new logging camp, as a gesture of beginning a new season of logging, his trust, his friendship, and his hoped-for fealty. But she couldn't exactly purchase liquor, and even if she could, she'd seen crates of shine under a tarp in a truck at Jack's place, and had good reason to think he made it…or at lest knew who had. She'd been hearing rumors about Franklin County since she was small. She couldn't rightly bring something she knew they already had in spades. So she brought back with her boxes tied with strings, inside fresh pies only made that afternoon. After that she'd locked her door and slept, setting the little alarm clock beside her bed, waking when it chattered its little bell at her at 5:00. She kicked at one of the trunks on her way to the bath, shoving it aside. After her errands and her much needed nap she'd been filled with mixed emotions, seeing her entire life crammed into such a small space made her feel as though she herself were insignificant. She thought somehow that she'd lived long enough and known enough people to not end up alone this way. She thought of all the warm, doughy arms of the female bakers she'd been pressed into as a child in the logging camp cafeterias, and how Lettie had taught her over several seeks to perfect the way she set her hair at night for finger waves. How could she be alone when there had been so many of them once? So she cried. But she'd found herself laughing to herself halfway through for being so silly. Certainly, she was alone, but so many were alone and destitute. At least she'd had a place on the map. A trajectory. A beacon. That was so much more than so many she'd known had left. So she'd wiped her eyes, picked up her train case and clothes, and headed into the bathroom.

Now, standing in the mirror in her room she assessed herself. She'd picked a long midnight blue dress mostly because it had been accessible, silk, with fabric that pooled around her feet in waves, scalloped cap sleeves and the back cut out, a line of buttons running from her waist to her calves. "Oh Christ, you look ridiculous." She hadn't noticed how long the "I" in her Christ, had been, but her Virginia was showing. Her drawl was coming back, replacing her soft cultured Charlotte southern lilt she'd been expected to use there.

Cue "Love is War" - American Young

So when she arrived at Blackwater Station, and saw Jack and Cricket standing on the porch, she was slightly relieved. Cricket was wearing a nice vest and a freshly starched shirt underneath, and newly mended, crisp pants, and Jack was wearing a beige suit. At least she wouldn't feel so overdressed. It was Jack who scrambled off the porch first to open her door, but Cricket whose hand was extended as Jack moved aside to pull the door with him so she could get out, and which she took. They were both telling her all about the station and how they served food and drinks, too, and how Jack's father's father had built the place, and how he lived there with his two brothers. Halfway up to the porch, she remembered the pies, and Jack retrieved them. "Forrest! Howard!" he called.

Howard Bondurant stepped away from his post at the bar where he was leaning and sipping shine. He was supposed to be grilling, but the pork and chicken were finished, and just sitting over the coals out back, waiting to be served. Jack had spoken with his brothers as soon as they pulled up from their visit to the stills that afternoon, starting his relation of the tale before the truck had even come to a stop, referencing the girl in the car he was sure they must have seen on their way in. He explained to an expressionless Forrest and a befuddled Howard why he'd invited a stranger over for dinner.

"Well, she's nice. And pretty, real pretty. But also, she's Red McLure's niece 'er some such. That old coot let that old house go to shit. She's wantin' to fix it all up and move in there, Lord knows why. Probably 'count of the depression. We got a still right on the edge of that property, not a stone's throw from that house. I think we should make sure'n git her on our side."

Forrest grunted and brushed past Jack on his way in the house and Howard shrugged and went to follow him in, punching Jack on the bicep "What's Bertha gon' think of that, huh kid?" Jack glowered "It ain't like that! She's interesting, is all. I woulda invited Bertha if I thought her daddy'd let her come!" Howard started at him in the doorway of the station with a puzzled look on his face which told his brother "Easy. Teasing." Neither of Jack's brothers had seemed interested in what he was telling them, but he did notice with a note of satisfaction that Forrest had gone upstairs to change, and Howard had put on a new shirt which he actually tucked in. Jack felt a stab of pride. He thought maybe he could impress his brothers with such a fine guest in the house. And maybe he would. And here was their guest, Howard suspected, from the infernal racket his brother was making towards the front of the house. He reluctantly called "Forrest," in the direction of his brother's office, setting down his shine and making his way to the door. When he got there, Howard, for once, understood what Jack had been going on about. On Cricket's arm was a well dressed, well endowed, ivory skinned southern belle, with finger waved hair that could have been anywhere from red to gold to brown at any time, in different light. Beautiful, he suspected. Or at least he thought she might be. Her head was tipped down to look at her feet as her left hand raised her hem so she could step on the first step. He felt Forrest join him and took that as his cue to actually exit the station and greet the person on the porch. Jack had his hat on a pair of white boxes tied with string and was standing with his chest puffed out, enough to make Howard want to cuff him on the head, pretty girl or not. "Howard and Forrest Bondurant, may I present" Jack got a kick out of that, he'd heard a slick actor in a talkie say "may I present" and thought he'd gotten the usage right "Alice Ostergaard."

She lifted her head after stepping up and fixing her dress, and her eyes flicked over both boys, a warm, friendly smile on her lips. All right, Jack, thought Howard, you did one good. She had what Danny would call "Meat on them bones," and her face was what their momma would have called "Pretty as a picture." Enormous brown eyes, long eyelashes and porcelain skin, a plump little mouth, freckles, and, since she seemed to be wearing her expression blankly on her face, Howard thought, an open heart. Howard heard Forrest grumble his assent behind him. But it was the kind of sound he didn't want to hear his brother make, as he imagined it would be more appropriate in intimate surroundings. Cricket was grinning like a fool. Howard Bondurant was feeling pretty confident on his own, thinking himself the most composed man in the situation for the first time in a….for the first time. He resisted the urge to look around at the three men around him and say something, but he didn't want to embarrass the boys or anger Forrest. He was hungry. He just wanted to eat. He was the first to put his hand out "I'm Howard," he said. "Hi" she said, smiling, gently taking her right arm from Cricket's to shake his. "And my brother Forrest," Jack said. She smiled and put her hand out to take his. He took it and squeezed ever so gently, and she thought she felt something in her melt, which couldn't be, because she was still standing straight up. "Hello, Forrest," she said. He grumbled "H'lo."

Cricket took her arm again, protectively. There was something about her Cricket liked. She never stared at his limp, or even seemed to notice, even walking so close. Everyone else always noticed. Except the Bondurant boys, which was part of why he liked them all so much. "After you," Howard said, and she and Cricket went through the doorway as Jack fell in step behind and Howard and Forrest waited to watch her walk. There was a moment of tension between the brothers when they both went to fill the same doorway, but Howard stepped back to let Forrest through as always. Maggie came out of the kitchen holding a bowl of mashed potatoes. She smiled and looked Alice over when the younger girl came in. "I'm Maggie Beaufort" she said, reaching across the table. There was a moment between the girls, as there often is. A sense of "I know what you are," as people sometimes think they can neatly package each other. The ruined socialite and the feather dancer. A sizing up. Two girls in the woods can be best friends or bitter enemies. But Alice's face broke open with a big smile and she reached across the table "Alice Ostergaard," and the tension was gone. "Nice to have another girl around here," Maggie said, as she headed back to the kitchen with Howard to see how his grilling was coming along. "Oh!" Alice said, and turned to Jack, looking at the boxes. "I brought pie….well, I bought pie. I'm sorry…" she looked with embarrassment around the room and then laughed at herself, encouraging the others to do the same, which Jack and Cricket did. "No kitchen yet."

Maggie grinned. "That's perfect. Howard started picking at the blackberry squares already."

They sat around the table, Alice between Cricket and Forrest, Maggie Between Jack and Howard, Howard beside Forrest and Jack beside Cricket. While they ate, only Maggie, Jack and Cricket asked questions. Howard was eating and staring at the pies on the plates Maggie had set them in on the counter. Forrest was quiet with grunts and mumbles throw in between, and a quiet countenance that Alice would come to know him for. They were awake until quite late, after midnight, talking through dessert and moonshine, which Alice and Maggie declined. Howard noticed Forrest was awake far later than he usually was. He himself was usually the last one awake, sometimes with Jack, and sometimes not. Howard smiled at himself when he was sure his mouth was hidden behind his shine jar. Forrest had never cared if company or customers were still at the station, he would have been in bed at least an hour and half before now.

They listened, interested, as Alice spoke candidly about her father, and the timber business, growing up between the wilds of western Virginia and Williamsburg, how her father had died, what happened to the money, and the house, and the horses they loved which they'd had to sell, and her mamma, who had died in a logging camp along with half the workers when the flu came through. She told of why she'd chosen this place "When I was small, and we'd be in the camps, the men would drink shine at night, especially on Sundays, and Saturday night. Most logging camps only take Sundays off, but my daddy wanted all of Sunday and half of Saturday for the people who worked for him. He thought rested workers made better workers, and he didn't come from where he got to, so he appreciated work. Anyways, they'd always be talking about Franklin like it was some sort of magical place. I didn't understand until later why they were so keen on this place, even if they'd never been here. I found out when I was older that my momma's uncle lived here. So when it came time to leave Charlotte, and I knew I had a house free and clear out here in the quiet and wild, I packed. And here I am. So tomorrow I go to the registry of deeds and have it transferred to my name."

Howard had a thought "Hey, Forrest, how 'bout you take Miss Alice out to see Old Red's place tomorrow?" Forrest snapped his thick neck around to look at his brother. "Me n' Cricket are already takin' her," Jack said. "Already told her we would." Forrest then slowly moved his head around and stared at Jack, and grunted. He turned to Alice "Maybe it's time you and Maggie be gettin' back home." If Forrest felt the need to say everything he thought, he'd say it was late and they were both unfamiliar with the roads, he'd tell her people drank shine and then got in their cars and didn't think about what might happen, and he'd say that the ATU officers around, no matter how they dressed, weren't exactly gentlemen. When both girls rose, Jack offered to pick up, and Cricket said he'd help. Howard was helping himself to another piece of pie. Maggie bustled around, gathering her things. Then Forrest walked them out to the porch. Maggie hopped into her car and waved "Bye Forrest, bye Alice!"

Cue "Speakeasy Kiss" - Composer James Newton Howard

Alice waved and then called her goodbyes to the boys inside. She teetered a little bit in her heels on the steps, holding her dress up so she wouldn't step on the hem and go tumbling into the dirt. She couldn't see it, but Forrest's arm was out behind her, a protective shadow circling her waist a foot away from her skin, there in case she fell. She made her way to the car, and as she opened the door, Forrest, lumbering behind her, held onto it as she gracefully gathered herself into the driver's seat, nodding for him to close it. He shut the door and only then realized part of her dress was caught in it. "Um…" he said. "Oh!" she cried. She laughed. "I'm so clumsy sometimes." Forrest opened the door and she went to reach for the fabric, but he gently gathered the deep blue silk of her hem in his calloused, rough hands, rubbing it between his fingers before tucking it into the car with her. "Thank you. Well, I suppose I may see you tomorrow. Jack and Cricket are taking me out in the woods once I have them switch the deed." Forrest nodded. "Tomorrow" he said. He sat up on the porch long after that, staring out into the yard, until he pulled himself up and stocked into the station, locking the door behind him. He checked his office to be sure everything was in order, then lumbered upstairs. He rolled into his bed on the floor, sighing and grunting to himself. He turned and looked at the small nightstand he had beside his bed, at the photo of his parents before the boys and their sisters were born. "Hm," he said to himself, and rolled over to sleep.

When Alice clattered up the steps in the hotel, she had a smile on her face, a smile she'd worn all night. Slipping out of her dress and after changing into her nightgown, she sat on the bed and put the dress on a hanger to go in her closet, running her fingers over the little bit of dust on the hem from where she'd gotten it caught. She smiled to herself and tumbled into bed, falling into the kind of sleep she'd had as a child.