Davey, however, had no intention of making things difficult for the deputy sheriff.
He began by complimenting the beauty of the woman at the deputy's side, then gave the man a warm hug and a firm handshake.
The deputy immediately felt something unusual in his palm and understood what Davey meant.
He quickly lifted his glass with a smile. "From now on, Mr. Callander, you can count on me as your best friend."
Sheriff Malloy finally let out a quiet sigh of relief. The deputy had served under him for years—loyal, obedient, and reliable. He had no desire to dismiss him over such matters.
After Davey moved on, the deputy discreetly glanced down at his hand. A twenty-dollar bill rested there.
He hadn't expected Davey to give him a personal bonus as well.
That small gesture sealed his resolve—he would make sure Davey's business in Valentine was protected at all costs.
Even with the alcohol still in his system, Davey's mind remained sharp.
The deputy might be second-in-command, but he was the one handling most of the day-to-day affairs.
And after so many years in the department, he undoubtedly had his own network of allies.
Forcing him out would only create unnecessary trouble and sour things with Sheriff Malloy. It was far wiser to turn an enemy into a friend and draw him into his own circle.
As it turned out, Davey's decision was absolutely right.
While he and the deputy spoke, several officers across the restaurant cast glances their way.
They were close to the deputy and knew all about what had happened the day before.
Choosing between their longtime colleague and the generous Mr. Callander hadn't been easy.
But seeing the two men laughing, talking, and shaking hands finally put their minds at ease.
...
John and Mac, on the other hand, felt painfully out of place.
Neither of them could talk the way Davey did. They would have preferred a gunfight to sitting through this dinner.
"Mac," John muttered, "Davey's changed. He's starting to look like one of those high-society types."
The two didn't fit in at all with the crowd, and all they could do was focus on the food before them. By now, they'd already eaten two steaks each.
Years of living rough had taught them to eat fast and hard—they weren't the kind to savor every bite like the others.
"John, I feel the same way. Ever since Blackwater, he's been a different man."
"Maybe taking care of me back in Colter made him realize a few things."
"But maybe that's not such a bad thing."
Watching Davey move effortlessly through the crowd, Mac couldn't help but feel a touch of envy.
These were Valentine's lawmen, and every one of them was showering Davey with praise.
John's thoughts grew heavier.
Seeing the officers with their wives and children made him think of Abigail and little Jack.
They'd have loved an evening like this.
And he knew Davey was on his way to real success. With the Valentine Police Department on his side, his business would thrive.
This kind of life—the comfort, the respect—was everything Abigail had always dreamed of.
Remembering Davey's earlier offer, John felt a wave of uncertainty.
His faith in following Dutch began to waver.
Both his heart and his reason told him that siding with Davey would be the wiser path—for Abigail, for Jack, and for himself.
But his loyalty to Dutch wouldn't allow him to betray that bond.
The fine food before him suddenly lost all flavor.
Even later, lying in his bed at the Helton Inn, John couldn't sleep.
...
After the banquet, everyone of influence in Valentine—or anyone who mattered—had heard the name Davey Callander.
He hadn't even made a move yet, but people already knew his business was about to take off.
The moonshine operation, which had been ready to begin immediately, ran into an unexpected delay—because of Davey's strict standards.
"Mr. Benedict, you need to understand something," Davey said seriously. "I don't want ordinary moonshine. I want a brew that matches Kentucky bourbon, whiskey, or rum in both taste and aroma.
Only that kind of quality will build our reputation and bring in loyal customers. I have no use for poor-tasting liquor."
In the cellar distillery, his tone was firm and focused.
There were four key aspects to blending liquor:
alcohol content, taste, color, and aroma.
Taste, color, and aroma didn't actually affect production costs. Unlike fine spirits that relied on lengthy fermentation, moonshine was crafted through constant adjustment—mixing flavoring agents and medical-grade alcohol.
The alcohol content came down to the amount of water mixed in—simple enough.
Color was achieved by adding pigments—also easy.
The real challenge was in the flavor and aroma, which required endless testing and refinement.
Clearly, what Benedict had produced so far didn't meet Davey's expectations.
"My apologies, Mr. Callander," Benedict said helplessly. "To get something close to the flavor and aroma of whiskey or other premium spirits, I'll need more time."
It was, after all, a slow and meticulous process—like developing the perfect recipe.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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