AN: In case anyone out there doesn't know. A dry county is a county that prohibits the sales of alcohol. Some on premisis sale, some off premisis, and sometimes they prohibit both.


Emily could tell this was the last thing he wanted to be doing as they started the two mile walk back to get her father's car. She'd let him park the Hornet behind her mother's restaurant and they started back down 66.

She had glanced at the clock before leaving the lobby of The Cozy Cone to pick up something to take him for breakfast. That had been before eight. She wasn't sure what time it was now, but it had taken a while to change four tires.

Jesse had slept four hours in two days, this was definitely the last thing he wanted to be doing. Forget the trip he'd planned to find the bank that afternoon, or the trip to that tire shop he'd noticed coming back with the Hornet, it could wait till tomorrow. He just desperately wanted sleep.

He stared at the ground as they walked, the last thing he'd expected was to end up somewhere like this. He'd been hoping to be in Nevada by now.

Sleeping.

The Hornet had different ideas, and had forcefully told him so.

Who would have thought the second person he'd run into in this place would have such a connection with Piston Cup.

He could only laugh.

"What's so funny?" Emily looked up toward him, squinting against the sunlight.

"Life."

She looked uncomfortable, eyes squinted nearly shut and she'd ditched her heels to walk barefoot in the sand of the shoulder of the road. Luckily it hadn't become too hot in the morning sun yet.

Jesse took his sunglasses off and held them out. "Here."

"Don't you need them?"

"I'll manage."

He already had a headache, what was some sunlight going to do.

"They look better on you anyway." He smirked.

Silence fell over the duo until she couldn't take it anymore.

"So what are you doing all the way out here?"

Jesse looked away from the landscape and back toward her, hands in his pockets. He shrugged both shoulders. "Getting away from the East Coast."

"Permanently?"

"Don't know."

"You don't have a plan?"

He shook his head. "Trying something new."

"Couldn't you still be involved in Piston? I mean, I'm sure there'd be teams lining up to have you wearing their colors."

His sudden silence and the stiff set of his shoulders was enough answer for her.

"I'm sorry about what happened..."

"Yeah." He looked away, his pace changing ever so slightly. "Me too."

She could tell the conversation was over for the time being.

Finally making it to the '42 Cadillac, she held the keys out to Jesse, a little more at ease when he finally spoke again.

"Let me get this straight. Your father, Edward Piston, the most influential man in the sport, basically created the sport, has two kids, one of which is the most pretentious and self absorbed individual I've ever met, and the other is you."

"So I've heard." She stood on the opposite side of the vehicle, watching him across the hood.

Emily had been to two fund raising banquets in her entire life, both to promote the up and coming sport of Piston Cup Racing. She'd heard more than enough through the grapevine, it wasn't exactly a vast community by any means. At least not yet.

She'd overheard drivers say they'd prefer to see her on the track as opposed to her brother. She'd nearly been titled The Princess of Piston, she was glad that one didn't stick.

"Why has he never taught you to drive?"

She huffed, shoulders rising and falling even as she considered him.

She'd never officially met Jesse Hudson until the early hours of that morning, but she certainly knew who he was. Anyone even remotely involved in the sport knew who Jesse Hudson was. She was having a hard time reconciling the country boy in front of her and the man that had been pointed out to her at the last fundraiser she'd attended.

Black tie dinners were more fun to dress up for than to actually attend. Her presence had been expected, and anyway, who was going to pass up a chance to see Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin? She'd been permitted a plus 1 but had neglected to bring anyone, she wanted to enjoy herself, not be chatted up all evening by someone who looked at her as an accessory.

She'd felt a sharp nudge to her side and looked toward her brother's fiance questioningly.

"There he is." She'd gestured with her wine glass. "That's who you need to introduce yourself to."

Emily had looked toward her future sister-in-law skeptically. "Are we not looking at the same person? He's with someone."

She'd gotten hit in the arm with the evening's program, Frank and Dean smiling from the playbill. "That's his sister. Do you ever go outside?"

It had been explained to her, that while not advertised or played upon, it was common knowledge that Ruth Hudson had been ill. The Hudson family was quiet and kept their personal business to themselves, but it was also common knowledge that Jesse Hudson held his family in the highest regards and did everything he could for them, especially Ruth. He protected his sister like she were glass.

She'd realized her mistake and had blushed, holding the program over her face as she spoke. "Wow, they really are twins, aren't they."

Looking down and reading over the cover of the program self consciously, she finally glanced up at her friend and fought back another blush, suggesting they get a decent table if they wanted to see Sinatra.

She'd sent flowers and a sympathy card a year later, and knew that the only reason Jesse hadn't won those three races in a row was because he hadn't attended.

Realizing he was still waiting for her to answer his question, she stuttered, shaking her head. "Ladies aren't supposed to drive. Or so he says."

Jesse rolled his eyes and got into the car, only speaking again once she was in the passenger seat.

"So how's he feel about Lou?"

"Who?"

"Louise Nash."

"Oh." Her eyes got big and he laughed at the face she made. "I thought he was going to shut the whole thing down when she went out there. He couldn't believe the audacity."

Jesse grinned widely. "Well he'd be real pleased with our involvement I bet."

"How so?"

Jesse glanced at her sidelong. "Friends and I were the ones to tell her where the numbers were."

She grinned, biting her lip. "I know nothing..."

They pulled around the back of the restaurant and she stiffened suddenly, recognizing the vehicle that had parked behind the Hornet. Jesse's comment upon seeing her brother didn't help either.

"This oughta be good." He threw the car in park and closed the door calmly once he'd gotten out.

Alexander Piston spun on his heel from where he'd been looking at the Hornet with disdain. He looked over Jesse briefly before addressing his sister.

"What the hell?"

She shrugged, still wearing Jesse's sunglasses.

"He was helping me."

"With what? Why did you have the car?" He looked toward Jesse. "And why were you driving it?"

"Because apparently she's not allowed to drive."

"What is this doing here?" He pointed at the Hornet.

"What is wrong with you?" Emily asked, forgoing an answer.

"I don't want some washed up-has been's junk car in my garage."

Jesse felt his teeth clamp together.

"Season's well under way, Hud." Alex continued and gestured in a mockingly solemn way. "I guess things just went downhill for you after your sister-"

"You better think long and hard before you finish that statement." Jesse cut him off.

Alex!"

"You gunna hide behind your sister your whole life?"

"What like you are now!" Jesse pointed between the two siblings.

Emily realized the only thing saving her brother from a broken nose and missing teeth was the fact that she was standing between the two of them. She was half tempted to call Michael.

"Boys!" She held her hands up between them. "Enough."

"Here's your keys." Jesse ground through his teeth as he set the key ring in her hand.

"I've had enough conversation with ankle-biters." He turned away from the two, knowing that if he did stay longer, someone was going to end up very injured. He couldn't help but stop beside the door of the Hornet, though, making one last flippant remark. "I'd go back to the Chevy, Alex. That Thunderbird is too much for you."

"Like you'd know."

"Who has the titles?"

Emily bit the inside of her cheek, looking away in irritation as the Hornet backed out of the space it was in and pulled on to the little dirt alley that lead to the back entrance of The Cozy Cone.

Alex spun on his heel to glare at her once they were alone.

"What is he doing here?"

"I don't know. Just passing through."

"What the hell was he driving my car for."

"It isn't your car."

Alex stalked away from her, intent to get the Thunderbird in the garage. Emily watched with her arms crossed, eyeing the vehicle with irritation.

"He's right." She muttered. "That is too much car for you."


"How's the stray?"

"He isn't a cat, Flo." She smiled, though, sighing in a forced melodramatic manner as she slid on to the stool.

"I'm teasin', honey." She leaned against the counter. The lunch rush was over by now and she took advantage of the afternoon lull to start wrapping the silverware that had just been brought from the dishwasher.

"You look tired."

"I am tired." Emily reached into the container of silverware and grabbed a stack of napkins to start helping. "Alexander just got here."

"Just saw him." Flo nodded. "Thought there was a bee in his bonnet for as nasty as he was being."

"He uh...and the stray as you like to call him, didn't have a good first meeting-"

"Oh?"

Emily shrugged, looking toward the oversized windows to the street. She'd have to catch her brother and tell him to keep his mouth shut. Then again, if she did ask, he may go and do just the opposite.

Hopefully he wasn't staying in town long.

"So the stray have a name?" Flo asked.

"Jesse."

She explained that the reason no one had seen this mysterious visitor as everyone seemed to think he was, was because the poor thing barely had the energy to stand straight.

It was somewhat true.

She knew Michael had most likely told everyone, but probably embellished it as well.

"Tell him to come over for dinner, honey, on the house, sounds like he's had a rough time."

"I think he has..." Emily muttered.


Evening was drawing on before she got around to checking on him. She knocked on the door and turned the handle when she heard it's open.

Opening the door, she glanced about until she found him at the table under the window, staring across the street at the little abandoned building.

"What is that?" She gestured to the glass on the table.

He smirked, picking up the glass. "Junior Moon's Georgia Peach."

"That's moonshine!" She covered her mouth and looked over her shoulder outside before looking back at him, hissing. "This is a dry county."

He shrugged, setting the glass back down and looking back to the window. His brows lowered. "Been staring at this thing for an hour. What is it?"

She stepped over and stooped slightly to see at his line of vision. "Oh, there was a little clinic built. Only lasted about two years, they needed to be closer to the state hospital."

"It's falling apart."

She made an attempt at levity. "Kind of like you?"

He glanced up at her, expressionless, but she could see the sheen in his eyes.

Looking down, she realized there was barely anything in the glass in front of him. He was stone sober.

He was homesick.

She pulled the adjoining chair out from the table and reached for another glass, plopping it down in front of him.

"Dry county." He grinned faintly.

"Oh well."

About an hour later, Carwood had stopped by, knocking on the door, only to be surprised when it pushed open. Looking around the corner, letting his eyes adjust to the lamplight he spied them still sitting at the table.

"I knew you were going to be a problem."

Jesse only held the glass out. "Best on the East Coast."

"Yeah...why the hell not." He tossed his hat on the table.