Learning the ropes, p.32

  Learning the Ropes, p.32

Learning the Ropes
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  Emery wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt but remained silent as the officer accompanied her to a courtroom. A dozen people were there, speaking in hushed tones. A few she recognized from events she had attended at her aunt and uncle’s home. With her face puffy from crying and devoid of makeup and her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, she doubted anyone would recognize her. That wasn’t a bad thing.

  “Sit there,” the officer said, pointing to a chair at a table facing the judge’s bench.

  Emery sank onto the chair, still waiting for the moment when her father would arrive to get her out of trouble like he had so many times in the past. Not that she’d ever been arrested, but there had been many times when she could have gotten into deep trouble if her father, or even Uncle Henry, hadn’t stepped in to smooth things over.

  People began trickling into the courtroom. The hum of conversation might have lulled her to sleep if Emery hadn’t been overcome with worry. Left to her own defenses, she had no idea what might happen to her. The thought of spending time in jail, though, caused her stomach to tighten into an aching knot. One night was enough to make her wish she’d never gone with her so-called friends to brunch, never given in to Gwen’s urging she have at least one mimosa, and never acted so foolishly about riding the officer’s horse.

  She should have accompanied her mother to Georgia to visit friends. Right now, she could be lounging by a hotel pool, or shopping, or …

  “All rise,” the bailiff intoned. Emery stood, casting a quick glimpse behind her to scan the crowd. With no sign of her father, she turned and watched her uncle enter the courtroom then take a seat at the judge’s bench.

  Relief poured over her. Uncle Henry would make everything right. Face lit by a bright smile, Emery took a seat then smoothed her hands along both sides of her mussed hair. Her uncle would keep her safe and out of trouble.

  Mistakenly, she’d assumed someone would bring her a change of clothes and allow her to freshen up before appearing in the courtroom, but no one had offered. Most likely it had been an unintentional oversight.

  No matter. Uncle Henry wouldn’t care how she looked, and she’d be free in a matter of minutes. The first thing she intended to do was go to the spa and get a massage and facial. Then she’d purchase a new outfit, or four, to make up for the one that was ruined yesterday.

  Smug in the knowledge nothing would happen to her with Uncle Henry presiding, she leaned back in the chair and sighed contentedly.

  Her uncle motioned to someone to come forward. Emery watched as the officer who arrested her approached the bench. He spoke with the judge and paused long enough for both of them to look at her, then they continued their conversation. Henry laughed and thumped the man on his shoulder. Her uncle scowled at her as the officer returned to his seat.

  “Emery Magnolia Brighton,” her uncle intoned. His voice rang through the room, silencing all whispers as Emery rose to her feet. “You’ve been charged with drunk and disorderly conduct, attempting to steal a law enforcement animal, bribing an officer of the law, and public indecency. How do you plead?”

  Head swimming from the charges and the fact that her uncle continued to glower at her, Emery grasped the edge of the table to keep from fainting. “I … ”

  “She pleads guilty, your honor,” her father’s attorney said as he stepped beside Emery and set a briefcase on the table. “She pleads guilty.”

  “I certainly do not!” Emery snapped, giving Mr. Knight a dark look.

  “Unless you want to serve jail time, you’d better do exactly as I say,” Kevin Knight whispered.

  Too stunned to speak, Emery listened as her uncle detailed how much jail time she’d receive for each offense. Years! She could spend years in jail if her uncle decided to proceed with this madness.

  “Again, I’ll ask how Miss Brighton pleads.” Henry glared at her.

  “Guilty,” the attorney said, shooting a quelling look at Emery.

  Although she wanted to argue and whine, she offered the barest hint of a nod in agreement, biting her lip to keep from explaining what had happened. Really, she’d done nothing wrong. She might have been out of line to suggest the officer would accept a check in lieu of arresting her, but everything else seemed like exaggerated charges. By the time they tested her blood alcohol level, it had barely registered that she’d had anything to drink, not that it took more than a sip or two for her to go from sober to drunk. That was beside the point. The point was that she had been unfairly persecuted, and someone needed to do something about it.

  “I’m glad to see your client is being reasonable, Mr. Knight.” Henry tipped his head toward the attorney. “Miss Brighton is being given a choice. She can serve the jail time and promise to never again assault a law enforcement officer—”

  “I did not assault the horse!” Emery said, her voice rising defensively.

  Her uncle’s gaze narrowed as he pinned her with a hard glare. “You will be silent!”

  Uncle Henry had never raised his voice to her, never been anything except a friend and hero. How could he turn on her like this when she needed him the most?

  “As I was saying, Miss Brighton can serve jail time. Officer Burke Tipton has agreed to change the felony charges to misdemeanors so she would face a year in jail and a five thousand dollar fine,” Henry let his words sink in before continuing, “or Miss Brighton can agree to three hundred hours of community service, to be carried out in Summer Creek, Oregon, beginning immediately. She will also offer Officer Tipton and Sugar Bear a personal apology. Each week, she will submit a report to a representative of the court. If at any time she fails to send the report or shows unsatisfactory compliance with the terms of this agreement, she will serve the remainder of her sentence in jail.”

  “She accepts the terms of community service, your honor, and thanks you for the opportunity to apologize to the officers involved in the incident,” Mr. Knight said on her behalf.

  “I do not … ” Emery opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. Pride lodged like a bitter, unyielding lump in her throat, but she managed to choke it down before she spoke. “I do not have the proper words to thank you, your honor.”

  Henry glowered at her one more time before he dismissed her case.

  “Come on, Emery,” Mr. Knight said, taking her elbow in his hand and guiding her through the courtroom. Outside the doors, he led her over to where her father sat on a bench reading a newspaper. “Here she is, James. Good luck.” Kevin Knight handed her over to her father, then rushed off.

  “Daddy!” Emery threw her arms around her father’s neck and clung to him as tears welled anew. Awkwardly, he patted her on the back, then gently nudged her away from him. “You stink, Emery. First, we’ll head home so you can clean up, then there is much to be done before you leave.”

  “Leave?” Confused, Emery followed as her father led her outside then pointed to where his car was parked. The driver hopped out and held open the back door while they slid inside on the buttery-leather seats. The car smelled of her father’s aftershave and the mint gum he chewed when he thought no one was watching. She inhaled a deep breath, catching a whiff of her own unpleasant scent.

  As long as she lived, she would never allow another drop of alcohol to pass over her lips. If Gwen and Charlotte hadn’t goaded her into that one mimosa, she’d never have attempted to ride the horse and gotten herself arrested. Just wait until she caught up with her supposed friends. They were going to rue the day they’d left her to face the officer all on her own.

  “Your friend Gwen dropped by last night and left your handbag. How could you do something so childish and irresponsible, Emery?” her father asked as the car pulled into traffic. “I can’t believe you tried to bribe Officer Tipton. What gives you the right to act that way? Who do you think you are that you’re above the laws that govern us all?”

  Shocked by her father’s words, Emery felt tears burn her eyes again and trickle down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to get arrested. I … it’s just … the officer made it sound so much worse than it was. He hurt my feelings and I … ”

  “That’s enough, Emery. Your mother isn’t home to encourage your theatrics and I’m far beyond putting up with more of your nonsense.” He handed her a box of tissues. “You’ve been given so much, Emery, so much. Yet, you take it all for granted. Starting today, things are going to be different.”

  “You mean you want me to work with you at the office?” Emery asked, dabbing at her cheeks and wiping her nose with a tissue. Hopeful, she’d waited and waited for her father to invite her to join him in business. She’d always known she’d eventually go to work at her father’s corporate headquarters. When the time came, she assumed he’d welcome her with a corner office suite and several staff members at her disposal. The years she’d spent earning a master’s degree in business administration would pay off and her father would at last take her seriously.

  “You are not coming to work at the office, Emery. What I mean is that you are going to follow, to the letter, the rules laid out by your uncle. Do you understand, Emery? You are facing jail time, of all things, for acting like a … a … ridiculous empty-headed nitwit. I’ve had enough of it. You are wasting your life and your opportunities. I won’t stand for it another day.”

  “But, Daddy, none of this was my fault. Gwen talked me into a mimosa, and then we all got a little loud. The girls had like five or six drinks, and the horse was there, and the officer was just so … ”

  Both of her father’s eyebrows hiked toward his receding hairline. “After all that’s happened, you intend to sit there and pass the blame to your friends and Officer Tipton?”

  Emery stubbornly lifted her chin. “Well, it really wasn’t my fault.”

  “Wasn’t your fault?” James yelled. “You know you can’t handle any alcohol, but you drank it anyway. You and your friends were rude and obnoxious, disturbing everyone else at the restaurant while they were trying to enjoy a peaceful brunch. And yes, I’ve heard from several people I know who were there and witnessed it all. On top of that, you tried to ride a police horse, Emery! Every bit of responsibility for this disaster rests squarely on your shoulders. You’re fortunate, young lady, that you aren’t on your way to spend a year or two in jail.”

  “But, Daddy!”

  “Not another word!”

  Emery’s eyes widened at his authoritative tone and the look of anger and disappointment on her father’s face. He’d rarely raised his voice to her. And he’d certainly never looked or sounded more like his older brother than he did in that moment.

  Afraid to further incite her father’s wrath, she folded her hands on her lap and remained silent on the ride back to their home. When the car stopped outside the front entry, her father glanced at his watch. “You have one hour to meet me back here. Don’t make me come looking for you.”

  “Yes, sir,” Emery said, hopping out of the car and racing up the steps. She ran all the way upstairs to her room, ripped off the clothes she still wore from the detention center, and stepped beneath the warm spray of water in the walk-in shower in her private bathroom. After shampooing her hair three times and slathering her favorite body wash over herself twice, she felt human again.

  Quickly blow-drying and straightening her hair, she deftly applied makeup, then rushed to dress. Uncertain what her father expected of her, she chose a pair of navy slacks, a white and navy striped blouse, and a matching navy jacket, all from her favorite designer. She slid her feet into a pair of Italian leather flats and snagged the handbag Charlotte had run off with from her bed.

  Emery glanced at the clock and saw she had a few minutes before she needed to be downstairs. She transferred everything from the handbag to one that matched her outfit, then picked up her phone. More than a hundred texts and messages awaited her response. As she scrolled through them, she grew increasingly alarmed by the comments. One included a link which she tapped. Emery nearly choked when an image popped up, showing her nearly bare backside as it draped over the saddle of the police horse.

  “Oh, no!” she whimpered, sinking onto the edge of her bed. Not only were the photos incriminating and the comments disparaging and degrading, there were also two videos. One had been posted by Charlotte and the other by Gwen.

  “How could they?” she asked, mortified that they’d tried to make her look like a drunken idiot.

  Angry, hurt, and embarrassed, Emery tossed the phone in her handbag, checked her image in the mirror, then hurried downstairs. Her father stepped into the foyer from outside, scowling at her as she descended the last two steps.

  “Come along, Emery,” he said, giving her a nudge out the door. As they walked down the front steps, her father’s driver wedged a suitcase inside the trunk of the car.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as she nodded to the driver when he held the passenger door open for her.

  “We’ll discuss that later. Right now, you are going to apologize to Officer Tipton and his horse.”

  Emery bit back the urge to laugh. “His horse?”

  “You heard me.”

  The ride back downtown was silent as her father stared out the window, refusing to speak to her. Tension crackled between them, and Emery fought back the urge to sob. The driver pulled over to the curb and stopped the car.

  Her father removed his sunglasses, then motioned to Emery. “Officer Tipton is waiting.”

  Feeling like she was six years old and being forced to apologize for sassing her teacher, Emery got out of the car and followed her father over to where Officer Tipton stood with Sugar Bear. He spoke to a group of tourists who seemed to be lost. When the tourists went on their way, he turned and greeted them.

  “James. It’s nice to see you again,” the officer said, reaching out and shaking her father’s hand. “You and Henry were right about that new café down the street. Thanks for suggesting it. My wife and I ate there Friday and greatly enjoyed it.”

  “How is Ellen?” James asked.

  “Perfect,” the officer said with a warm smile.

  “Now that’s what I like to hear.” Emery’s father turned to her and pushed her forward. “I can’t apologize enough for what happened, Burke. I can guarantee it won’t happen again, though. Isn’t that right, Emery?”

  Sufficiently scolded to curb her temper, Emery nodded her head. “I promise I will never bother you again.”

  “And … ” her father prompted.

  “And I’m sorry for any trouble I caused, and for behaving badly.” Emery forced herself to smile at the officer. “My apologies to you and your horse.”

  “I can’t speak for Bear, but your apology is accepted. However, if I find you messing around with another horse, it won’t go well for you, Miss Brighton.”

  “I won’t make that mistake twice.”

  “Good.” The officer shook her father’s hand again. “Have a safe trip.”

  “We will, Burke. Give Ellen my regards.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  Before Emery could ask even one of the multitude of questions buzzing through her thoughts, her father practically shoved her back into the car.

  The driver headed to the courthouse where Henry waved and hurried over. He climbed in the car, sandwiching Emery between him and her father.

  “Got everything?” James asked as Henry settled back into the seat after dropping a leather traveling bag at his feet.

  “We’re set.”

  “Set for what?” Emery asked, wondering what her uncle and father were plotting. From the looks they exchanged, she was sure she wouldn’t like it. Not in the least.

  “Our trip.” Henry pulled a pair of sunglasses from the pocket of his suit jacket and slipped them on. “I haven’t been to Summer Creek in years.”

  “Summer Creek? Trip?” Emery looked from her uncle to her father, then back at Henry. “What trip?”

  “Did you not listen to what I said in the courtroom, Emery? You agreed to three hundred hours of community service in Summer Creek.”

  “But I thought that was someplace around here, where I could stay at home, that would start this summer. I’ve got plans and … ”

  “You’ve got nothing, Emery Magnolia Brighton, beyond the clothes on your back and the things your aunt Jenny packed for you.” James gave her a pointed look. “I’m tired of trying to get you to see reason, to not be so frivolous about … everything. From this moment on until further notice, you’ve been disinherited.”

  “What?” Emery shrieked, convinced she was trapped in a nightmare. Maybe if she slapped herself, she’d wake up and find everything that happened in the past twenty-four hours was just a bad dream.

  “You heard me, Emery. I cut up your credit cards, and suspended your access to all bank accounts.” He studied her a moment. “Unless you can get your act together, the trust fund will go away, too.”

  “But Daddy, I’m supposed to get the trust fund on my birthday,” she sniveled, unable to grasp the breadth and depth of what one little lapse in judgment had cost her.

  “I suggest you apply diligent effort between now and the end of June in showing you are sincere about changing your ways,” her father said, then looked around her to Henry. “Are you sure Nell won’t mind us spending the night there?”

  “No. She’s thrilled we’re both coming.” Henry smiled at James, then looked at Emery. “You’ll be staying with an old friend of mine, Nell Cole. She and her grandson own the Summer Creek Ranch, just outside of Summer Creek. It’s located near Burns, Oregon, more on the eastern side of the state, not far off the highway that runs between Bend and Burns. The Cole family has graciously invited you to stay with them while you work off your community service hours. Nell’s grandson will be in charge of you. You’re to send a weekly report directly to me as well as your probation officer. You’ll help out on their ranch and earn minimum wage for work done there. Your community service hours will be spent in town, and every hour you are working must be documented.”

  The world around her felt as though it spiraled out of control. Emery couldn’t fathom the notion her father and uncle expected her to labor not only on a ranch, where she’d know how to do nothing, but also work in town to satisfy her community service hours.

 
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