American Girl

Kentucky

Brandy McClure dove into the crystal waters and surfaced. Swiping her long, honey-tinted hair from her eyes, she scanned the shoreline. A hidden spring fed the secluded pond before the bountiful water cascaded into the larger lake. Rising above her, the Appalachians framed her favorite swimming hole. Only one other person knew her secret place. She awaited his arrival.

Big Daddy must never discover her relationship with Flint Hathaway. The McClure's and the Hathaway's were the bitterest of enemies. Brandy's father owned and operated the second-largest whiskey distillery in Kentucky. His grandpappy—everyone within the sound of his booming voice knew—was a moonshiner. Throughout the years, the old man's illegitimate prospects became a thriving business.

The lake and nearby village bore the name of McClure. The Hathaways ran the general store, and old Clem worked as the caretaker for the vacation cabins surrounding the lakefront. Over the years, the two families disputed the ownership of the spring that provided water to the distillery. The feud raged on for years.

Brandy and Flint weren't interested in the feud. They both thought it was ridiculous to continue a generational argument. The McClures claimed the spring and profited from it, and the Hathaway family believed they had a right to some of the profits. If the two old clans combined, everyone would benefit. Brandy and Flint were interested in combining their clans.

"You stay away from those Hathaway's, you hear me, girl?" Clayton McClure bellowed. He leaned back in his chair and glared at his daughter.

His son, Bourbon, stood by his side. Walking home from school, the young boy had seen his sister holding hands with the enemy. He hastened home to inform Big Daddy.

Brandy caught her young brother's eyes and held them. Bourb promised to keep her secret but blabbed anyway. When she laid her hands on him, she'd teach him a thing or two. In the meantime, she glowered at her father's lecture.

"Those confounded Hathaways are no good," Big Daddy continued, refilling his whiskey glass. He took a huge gulp of the contents. I don't want you mixing with them."

"I love him," Brandy began. She willed herself to face her father. Big Daddy was formidable in his white suit and black string tie. A huge white Stetson covered his pushy white eyebrows.

"Love?" Big Daddy bellowed. "How can you love a Hathaway?"

Brandy jumped in her skin, and Bourbon looked uncomfortable. Both siblings feared their father, particularly when he was drunk—and he was often in that condition.

"Stay away from Flint Hathaway, hear?" Big Daddy bellowed again.

Brandy could not stay away from Flint. They met clandestinely in the secluded pond above the lake. Arriving early in the morning, she plunged into the refreshing water and awaited her lover.

A low whistle broke through the silent spring morning. Brandy repeated the call, indicating 'all clear.' The bushes rustled noisily, and then Flint appeared on the shore. He dropped his denim overalls and dove gracefully into the pond. Their bodies interlocked beneath the surface, and the couple kissed passionately.

"We can't keep our relationship a secret indefinitely," Flint complained. The couple sat on a rock overlooking the pond. The sun warmed them, drying their bodies and hair.

"Big Daddy will skin me alive if he finds out," Brandy stated, plucking the leaves from a nearby bush.

"Uncle Clem would do the same," Flint admitted, staring into the middle distance. "No one in our families forgives and forgets."

Brandy sighed.

Big Daddy remained firm on the subject. Along with Clem, he kept the age-old feud alive and well. The families avoided each other. Nevertheless, living in a small town meant they collided occasionally. When they did, a fight usually erupted over the wryest of comments.