Chapter Six
Charlie’s mind wandered as she drove the wagon, the scent of barley strong behind her. She told herself that she didn’t need to run the still for the money, it was more for the craft. Adding assorted fruits and flavorings was part science and part art. Most of her customers just wanted the moonshine, but there was a market for the bourbon she had aging. Maybe I should try to plant some grapevines to start winemaking. She didn’t know much about that. Whiskey was pretty straightforward: dump in the grains, heat it up, distill it out. The horses snorted and huffed as they arrived in the woods, knowing the cool creek was close by. She eased the reins back and pulled up beside the shed.
“Hey, Pinkney, I got the last of the rye from the barn.” Charlie hopped down and tugged at her
