Dream a Little Dream

by Melinda Curtis

  “Spent a night in the hoosegow.”

  Oliver chuckled, leading a chorus in the gallery.

  Darcy felt her cheeks heat. “Gentlemen, this is a serious matter. May I remind you that the maximum penalty for indecent exposure in the state of Colorado is either a five-hundred-dollar fine or six months in jail.”

  “For doing my laundry?” Mr. Smithcorn was flabbergasted. He had a fairly clean record, having been picked up for vagrancy once and having one arrest for petty theft. “What’s the world coming to? What’s Colorado coming to?” He staggered to the edge of Darcy’s desk and shook his bony fist at her. “Are you the devil? ’Cause you look like the grim reaper to me. Thin hands coming out of black shadows.”

  “Bailiff…” Darcy’s heart scaled her throat. She’d been in enough rough spots growing up to be scared of a man entering her physical space. She swallowed her fears back down. “Bailiff? Bailiff.”

  Ronald leaned against the wall, smirking.

  If Mr. Smithcorn had a knife…

  If Mr. Smithcorn had a tendency toward violence…

  “Bailiff,” Darcy said again, weakly.

  A cowboy in a white straw hat stormed the bench. Or rather Mr. Smithcorn. Jason grabbed the man by his elbows and dragged him backward. “You ask before you approach the judge, buddy.”

  Ronald charged forward, apparently considering Jason more of a danger to her than a derelict who’d threatened a member of the court.

  “Order. Order.” Darcy banged her gavel. “Mr. Smithcorn will spend the night in jail for contempt and return to receive sentencing tomorrow. The court will take a five-minute recess.” She banged her gavel again.

  “But we’ve only just started the session,” Tina Marie griped.

  Stand your ground. George’s voice reverberated in Darcy’s head.

  Despite George’s command, despite Jason racing to the rescue, Darcy was alone.

  I’m not ready for this.

  Instead of demanding to see Ronald in her chambers for dereliction of duty, instead of warning Oliver he too might be held in contempt if he continued to act like this was a mock trial for high schoolers, Darcy picked up Stogey’s bag and fled out the door, through her office, down the hall, and out the back to the parking lot.

  * * *

  “Are you okay?” Jason hurried down the back steps of the courthouse to where Darcy was encouraging Stogey to relieve himself.

  “I’m suffering a bout of self-loathing.” Darcy turned to him, dropping the dog’s leash in the process. “A Jones doesn’t lose control of a crowd.”

  “You’re not a Jones.” Jason let her live with those words for a moment when what he really wanted to do was close the distance between them and wrap his arms around her to reassure himself that she was all right, and to reassure her that she could collect herself and give it another go.

  “I’m not sure what I am anymore,” she said on a shaky breath. “Thank you for stepping in back there. Mr. Smithcorn took me by surprise.”

  “Don’t be hard on yourself. He would have taken George by surprise too.” Jason came to stand next to her, in case she felt the need for a pair of strong, supportive arms. “Chalk it up to courtroom jitters. First days always suck. Why, I remember my first professional bull ride and—”

  “Do not compare what just happened in there to you getting thrown off a bull.” Darcy whirled, poking his shoulder. “I can’t afford to be scared or uncertain. Before I walked in there this morning, my staff suspected I was incompetent. Now they have no doubt.” She let her hand drop. It disappeared in the long cuff of her black sleeve. “And the town…”

  “You’ve always worried too much about what others think.” Jason moved closer still, lowering his voice to say, “George believed in you. And as your one remaining husband, it’s my duty to remind you how awesome you are.”

  “Hush.” Darcy glanced over her shoulder toward the courthouse.

  He pressed his lips together, refusing to argue.

  “It matters what these people think. They all believe I slept my way to the bench.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I have to earn their respect or this will all be for nothing.” She pointed toward the courthouse. “I have to march back in there and be bulletproof.”

  “On that point we agree.” He took her by the shoulders. “No one pushes Judge Petrie around.”

  “Oh, will you stop?” Darcy shook herself free.

  “Regardless of what name you go by…” He brushed a stray lock of blond hair behind her ear. “You’ve got this. You’ll get your share of blisters in there, and then you’ll develop calluses.”

  Darcy nodded. But it was a glassy-eyed nod. She was still rattled. “Thank you. It helps to know I’m not always alone.” She bit her lip as if she’d said too much.

  Stogey whined. He’d crawled beneath a hedge. His leash was tangled in the branches. He was stuck, much like Jason and Darcy.

  “I’ll get him.” Jason moved to the shrubbery and bent to disentangle the thin strip of leather.

  “Darcy, can I talk to you?” Rupert stood on the back landing. His superior glance landed on Jason. “Alone?”

  Jason took Stogey’s leash and walked him far enough away to pretend he was honoring his attorney’s wishes but not far enough away that he couldn’t still hear the conversation.

  “Did Jason tell you that Tom Bodine is suing him?” Rupert asked in a tone a school bully would use to intimidate a smaller kid for his lunch money.

  Jason clenched the leash.

  “No.” Darcy straightened her robe on her thin shoulders and lifted her chin.

  Jason recognized her body language. Her stubborn streak was kicking in. No doubt she’d reached her limits for suffering fools in the courtroom earlier.

  “You do understand?” Rupert was looking unexpectedly flustered. “If Jason’s suit goes to court, you have to recuse yourself.”

  “If it comes to that, I’m sure you can present that argument,” she said coolly.

  Attagirl.

  Rupert jabbed his finger in her direction. “You need a lawyer.”

  “No one ever laughs at your jokes, Rupert.” Darcy’s voice rang out. “It’s my first day. My performance isn’t criminal, while your attitude toward me borders on contempt.”

  “Ha! It’s no joke.” Rupert regained some of his tormenting manner. “You need a lawyer because I’ve taken on Pearl Conklin as a client. She’s suing you for custody of Stogey. Given the length of her relationship with Dad, I have no doubt I can win.”

  Darcy lifted her chin higher.

  “I’ll be drawing up papers.” Rupert smiled. And that smile said everything the middle-aged lawyer didn’t. That smile said he wasn’t going to let Darcy off the hook for marrying his father or taking the judgeship he’d publicly coveted. That smile said he was going to enjoy every ounce of pain and suffering Pearl’s lawsuit caused Darcy.

  Jason tugged Stogey toward Darcy.

  “Get yourself a lawyer,” Rupert told her.

  “She is a lawyer,” Jason shot back before Darcy could.

  Rupert laughed. “She needs a good lawyer.” He was still laughing as he flung the courthouse door open and returned inside.

  “I should have expected this.” Darcy’s hand shook as she took Stogey’s leash from Jason. “Everybody wanted something from George. I shouldn’t be surprised that the one thing I want is up for grabs.”

  “What did you want from George?” Jason righted the robe on her delicate shoulders.

  “I didn’t ask him for anything.” Darcy lifted her gaze to Jason and the grief he saw there pained him. “George promised to help me pass the bar and gave me a last name that commanded respect. He joked about a judgeship but he didn’t say anything about recommending me as his replacement or…”—she huffed—“everything else he left me.”

  Jason’s world tilted. She’d said nothing of George’s love for her or hers for him.

  Before he could ask her anything else, Tina Marie poked her
head out the courthouse door. “If you’re going to get through the day’s docket, recess is over.”

  Chapter Ten

  Brian Lang. Please approach the bench.” Darcy opened the next case file.

  George’s robe chafed the back of Darcy’s neck.

  His chair felt too large. His shoes too big to fill. George had cowed the court, the lawyers, and his staff, while she’d face-planted in her first appearance as judge.

  But before she’d been a Petrie or a Harper, she’d been a Jones. She’d forgotten that this morning. Now she was going to hit the ground running.

  Oliver accompanied Brian to the podium, wearing a patronizing smile, probably gloating over her performance on the first case of the day. Representing the state, Keli stood with Deputy Wycliff next to Tina Marie’s small desk.

  Darcy replaced her smile with her court face. “Mr. Lang, you’re charged with reckless operation of a motor vehicle, which carries a minimum ten-day sentence or a seven-hundred-dollar fine. You’ve pled not guilty but waived your right to trial. Do you understand these charges?”

  “Because this case was initially heard by an esteemed judge…”—Oliver didn’t hide his disdain—“I’d like to remind Your Honor of our position. Deputy Wycliff didn’t see the incident in question. Therefore, we move to dismiss for lack of evidence.”

  “I’ll grant a quick review.” Darcy coughed to cover a gassy squeaker from Stogey.

  “I cited Brian after he fled the scene of an accident he caused.” Deputy Wycliff seemed offended that a plea of innocence had been entered. He was young and clearly passionate about upholding the law. “Brian cut Naomi off while passing her on the highway headed out of town. He forced her into a ditch.”

  “Hmm,” Darcy said, assessing the situation before her.

  On the state’s side, the deputy’s use of first names was a sign of his inexperience in court. It hadn’t escaped Keli’s notice. She frowned but stared at the wall behind Darcy.

  As for the defendant, Brian smirked over his shoulder at Naomi, his ex-girlfriend. And that was interesting. Ex-girlfriend. Naomi and Brian’s breakup had been more gossip-worthy than Darcy and Jason’s. So many bitter, public displays initiated by Brian.

  And Brian’s attorney? Oliver had a good court face, as cold and haughty as his voice. “My client was exposed to an obscene gesture that distracted him during the act of passing. Mr. Lang wasn’t the cause of anything.”

  From the gallery, Naomi snorted.

  “Who distracted Mr. Lang and with what gesture?” Darcy asked, preferring to hear testimony than to read through it with everyone waiting.

  “My client was caught off guard by Naomi Citi,” Oliver continued to speak for Brian, who stood at his side, expression alternating between smugness and fear.

  The smugness Darcy attributed to Oliver standing up and defending him. The fear…She hoped she, as judge, struck fear in him. But her day hadn’t been working for her so far.

  “Just so I understand, let me recap,” Darcy said. She’d have to do it without accusing Brian of being a vengeful idiot, which would only give Oliver ammunition to sneer at her some more. “Mr. Lang was passing and turned to look into the vehicle he was overtaking, which happened to be driven by his ex-girlfriend.” Surprise! “Mr. Lang claims an obscene gesture was made by Ms. Citi and that startled him so much that he lost control of his vehicle and accidentally ran Ms. Citi off the road. Is that correct?”

  “Precisely. We move to dismiss.” Oliver’s smile broadened, turning his expression toward winner face.

  Prematurely, she hoped. “And Mr. Lang didn’t stay at the scene to make sure Ms. Citi was all right? Or was he so surprised that he didn’t notice her car was no longer in his rearview?” Darcy was proud of the fact that she kept incredulity from her tone. When Oliver didn’t answer, she glanced at Naomi. “Ms. Citi, please approach the bench.”

  Naomi made her way from the gallery. She was a few years younger than Darcy and wore a simple gray sweater, slimming black trousers, and suede booties.

  Darcy had serious bootie envy. “Is this account of events accurate, Ms. Citi?”

  “Of course not.” Naomi’s voice dripped with disdain. “Brian pulled up next to me and kept swerving at my car. I jammed on the brakes and flipped him off, but he slowed down too. And he was so intent upon scaring me that he almost missed the truck barreling toward him head-on. We both braked. He cut me off. And I skidded into the ditch. Eight stitches.” She lifted her dark bangs from her forehead, revealing a small, pink scar. She turned her face toward Brian. “Jerk.”

  “Objection,” Oliver said.

  Darcy waited for him to state his grounds. When he didn’t clarify his reason for objecting, she said with great satisfaction, “Overruled.” All that practice in the bathroom mirror was paying off!

  Keli grinned, hugging her case files. Deputy Wycliff nodded, rocking back on his heels. Even Tina Marie seemed to approve. At least she wasn’t rolling her eyes.

  “I sentence Mr. Lang to ten days in jail, the minimum allowed by law.” Boo-yah! That felt absolutely awesome. Darcy wanted to high-five someone, do a little dance, or kiss a certain cowboy.

  Stop right there, George grumbled.

  “What?” Brian clutched Oliver’s arm. “You said this was nothing. You said she wouldn’t know what she was doing.”

  “Shut up, Brian.” Oliver pried Brian’s fingers from the fine blue wool of his suit jacket. He glared at Darcy. “That’s not right. You know that’s not right.”

  “You mean that’s not how the old Judge Harper would have done it?” Darcy refrained from rolling her eyes. “Didn’t you tell me recently that my husband couldn’t distinguish between the law and his imagination when it came to sentencing? And now you’re complaining about sentencing per the law?”

  Oliver’s fingers closed around his tie. “You’re basing a sentence upon hearsay. Deputy Wycliff didn’t see the alleged event happen.”

  “I believe you’re referring to witness testimony.” Shoot. Darcy should have sworn Naomi in. Wasn’t Ronald supposed to do that? Did she have to tell him first? She couldn’t remember protocol. Darcy blinked back to the issue at hand. “That’s not hearsay, Mr. Harper. The driver of the oncoming vehicle gave a sworn statement that supports Ms. Citi’s written statement in the police report and also matches her testimony today.” There. An excuse not to have sworn Naomi in immediately.

  “I want a lawyer,” Brian blurted, red-faced.

  Oliver scoffed, hand tugging his poor tie. Italian silk didn’t deserve such treatment.

  Darcy sat back in George’s large, creaky chair. “Mr. Lang, your lawyer is standing right next to you.”

  “I want a different lawyer.” Brian stepped away from Oliver. He sent Keli a pleading look, which the district attorney ignored, as she should. She wasn’t the public defender.

  “Darcy, ten days is too much.” Oliver abandoned abusing his tie and turned his aggression toward her. “You know what my father would have handed down.”

  Actually, she was too nervous to come up with a creative form of punishment for Brian’s vindictive and dangerous crime. “Mr. Harper, may I remind you that I’m not your father. And that in this building you may be cited for contempt for not addressing me as Your Honor or Judge Harper.”

  In the back of the courtroom, Jason and Iggy chuckled. The Widows Club board tittered midgallery. And her friends in the front row gave her double thumbs-ups.

  Darcy wanted to celebrate along with them, but she couldn’t dwell on her small measure of success. Oliver was on the attack.

  “My father would have given my client some outlandish option.” Oliver’s anger cut every syllable of his words into sharp pieces. “He would have offered my client ten days in jail or a night of volunteering in the emergency room in Greeley, where he was certain to see the grim effects of automobile accidents.”

  Dang. That was a good idea. Too bad Darcy was sticking to the letter of the law. “I’m afraid it’s too
late for options,” Darcy said smoothly, with a trill of power racing through her veins. “Ten days.” She pounded her gavel.

  Oliver took a step forward. “But—”

  “Appeal the sentence to the county probation officer,” Darcy said firmly, pounding her gavel again. She cautioned herself not to pound Oliver with it if he came any closer. “That is, you can appeal if you’re still his legal counsel. In the meantime, Deputy, take Mr. Lang to the county lockup.”

  Oliver took another step toward the bench. “But—”

  “Bailiff, escort Mr. Harper out of the courtroom and remind him of the perils of contempt of court.”

  “You.” Oliver snapped at his brother before Ronald could react. “I thought you said she wouldn’t be able to handle this.”

  “She won’t.” Rupert glowered at Darcy.

  Apprehension closed around her, thickening the air and delaying a comeback.

  This was only the second case of the day. Was every defense attorney going to challenge her like this? Most likely. But they’d think twice if she refused to give Rupert and Oliver an inch in the courtroom.

  “Let the record show that the court is warning Rupert Harper that his conduct may be in contempt.” Darcy smiled at her stepsons. She smiled the way generations of Joneses had when threatened—like she held a royal flush.

  No one need know it was more like a pair of twos.

  * * *

  “Give it up, man,” Iggy said to Jason at Shaw’s on Monday night. “She’s not coming. Judges don’t hang with their exes, especially on a school night. Look. There’s a blonde at the bar who’s dressing hot and staring at you.”

  “Pass.” Jason sipped his beer, not having looked at the blonde once.

  He was thinking about how Darcy hadn’t mentioned love as a reason she’d married George and how she’d told him that Jason’s support made her feel less alone.