Going late at the courthouse also meant it was highly unlikely he’d get to spend any time with Rachel that evening. Given his schedule he hadn’t expected that opportunity, but that little glimpse of hope at the beginning of the day made him mourn the lost chance.
“Want me to go get you anything to eat?” Sherry croaked as Brady scratched the back of his neck.
“You sound awful,” he observed, eyeing Sherry with concern.
“Thanks a lot.”
At that moment, Rachel emerged from her office. “I told her to go home, but she won’t.”
Brady hadn’t seen Rachel since early that morning. He tried not to give her a lingering look, but the little green dress Rachel wore made it impossible for him not to ogle her. His eyes and other parts bulged as he admired her form, and particularly those long legs that had been wrapped around him the night before. She showed him a nice but knowing smile, and then turned her attention back to Sherry, causing him to snap back to reality and hope that Sherry hadn’t noticed him checking out his fellow judge.
“Rachel’s right, Sherry, you need to take care of yourself. Go home,” Brady said. He picked up a stack of mail from Sherry’s desk and started to go through it, trying not to look as concerned as he really was about his secretary’s health.
Sherry shook her head. “Too much to do.”
“Oh, please,” Rachel sighed. “I already took those orders down to the clerk’s office. What else is there for you to do today except sit there and cough?”
“I need to make reservations for you at the Judicial College,” Sherry insisted.
“Just give us the information and Brady and I will go over it during lunch. We can talk about reservations tomorrow—if you’re here, that is,” Rachel said, casting a wary look at her clearly-ill secretary.
“Or we’ll make the reservations ourselves,” Brady said, tossing the mail back onto Sherry’s desk. “We’re not helpless, you know.” He gave Sherry a smile and she weakly returned it. “We didn’t lose our common sense when we got on the bench.”
“Sometimes,” Sherry whispered and looked from one to the other, “I wonder about that.”
After Sherry reluctantly left, Rachel returned to her office and phoned in a delivery order to Over a Barrel. Brady followed and stood behind one of the chairs opposite her desk.
“You look amazing,” he said.
Rachel came out from behind her desk and walked to Brady’s side. “You’re not so bad looking yourself. Although,” she said, and paused to look at him, “I think you could do with a little more sleep.” She kissed him on the cheek.
“Looks like I’ll have a chance to catch up on sleep this week,” he lamented, explaining he thought it unlikely they could get together again until the weekend. Rachel expressed disappointment, but he cheered her by saying he wanted to go on the date he’d originally planned for them. “Can we go Friday night?”
“Are you sure? Where will we go that we won’t be seen?” she asked.
“Not around here, I assure you.”
“Friday out of town is a good idea. That’s when Hannah is supposed to make her announcement,” Rachel said, and then sighed. “I’m so sorry that you’re going to have that fight on your hands, Brady.”
“I already do.”
“How’s that?”
“First, it’s going to be one hell of a struggle to keep our relationship secret. But on top of that, apparently I’m getting the reputation as being a jerk.”
In a long recitation, he revealed what Eleanor had told him that morning and saw Rachel’s dismay. Rachel then recounted her conversation with CiCi where the clerk had expressed a similar concern that Brady wasn’t being nice to his fellow judge.
“Great! Everyone thinks I hate you when exactly the opposite is the case! But I can’t come out and tell the world how I feel about you because that would only cause more problems!” She smiled at him, and he was confused. “Why are you grinning like that?”
“Because you just told me that you care about me, that’s what.”
He took her hands in his. “That’s because it’s true.”
If the delivery kid from Over a Barrel hadn’t picked that very moment to arrive in the reception area, shortly followed by a few of the workers still toiling away in the attached office area, he was sure that they’d have been locked in a kiss, well on their way to falling onto her loveseat. Instead, they spread out their lunches on the small conference table in Rachel’s office and continued to discuss their dilemma as they ate.
“Eleanor did have a suggestion for me,” Brady said after swallowing a large bite of fruit salad and checking his watch to see how much time he had before court resumed.
“You don’t need to worry about the time, Brady. They can’t start court without the judge,” she reminded him.
“Sometimes I still forget that,” he admitted, and she asked him about Eleanor’s suggestion. “She told me to be nice to you, of course, but specifically that we should go to Judicial College together.”
She rubbed her hands together. “So we’re going to carpool? Supposed to be polite and professional and all that?”
“Yes, and be seen doing it. In other words, we’re supposed to play nicely together in public. If she only knew just how well we did that in private.”
“Yeah, our adult playtimes are quite fun,” she teased and nudged him in the ribs.
“And she told me I had to be a gentleman toward you.”
Rachel threw back her head and laughed for several seconds. “She said that?” she asked, wiping away tears.
He nodded. “I figure I’m done for,” he said. He was trying to joke, but knew at once from the sympathetic look on Rachel’s face that he’d failed to laugh off his concern.
“We can do this, Brady,” she urged him.
He sighed and put his hand on her knee. “I keep going back and forth in my mind about telling Hannah.”
She shook her head. “We need to keep everything as uncomplicated as possible.”
“I’m not sure hiding makes things less complicated.”
“Maybe there will come a point where we can tell her,” Rachel suggested. “But not yet.”
He stared at her, and hesitated before asking his next question.
“Will you vote for her? Or for me?”
“For you,” Rachel said without any vacillation.
“You will?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re far more qualified. It’s that simple. She’s a good lawyer and smart as a whip, but wouldn’t make a good judge. She doesn’t have the temperament for it, and certainly doesn’t have the experience. Hannah’s problem is that she’s bored, wants something interesting to do, and has a recognized name and scads of money. But she needs a distraction other than running for judge. Hannah certainly has her talents, but they’d best be used elsewhere.”
“A best friend would tell her that,” Brady said.
“I can’t talk her out of running for office, if that’s what you’re asking me to do.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that. I’m pointing out your predicament.”
“My predicament?”
“You’re sort of caught between us, aren’t you? I know it, but Hannah doesn’t. What if she finds out—and she will, someday—and starts to doubt you, not trust you? You’re keeping a big secret from her. You’re worried about how telling everyone about us would hurt me—but what about you?”
“I’ll just have to hope that she’ll understand, or at least forgive me.”
Brady hoped her trust wasn’t misplaced, but said nothing.
Before they finished lunch, Rachel retrieved the information regarding Judicial College from Sherry’s desk and went over it with Brady, and confessed to him that she’d been dreading attending the event. Judicial College was a multi-day educational confab for judges, where jurists picked up their required judicial education credits and hobnobbed with other judges and invited offi
cials. For new judges, attendance was mandatory and to Brady, it sounded like just another boring meeting. But at least Rachel would be along for company, and he could attend under the expectation of making a public show of being nice and friendly to her in public.
Not a problem.
He just hoped people didn’t see them getting too friendly in public.
“So we’re good for Friday for that date, right?” Brady asked as he started putting his robe back on.
“You’re sure we won’t get caught?”
“It’s unlikely. We’re going out of town, several miles away.”
“Lexington?” she asked. “We’d get spotted there. Too many attorneys.”
“Not Lexington,” Brady said. “Trust me. It will be nice and quiet and intimate.”
“That sounds perfect,” she said, “as long as your plan doesn’t include going to one of those hotels that rents rooms by the hour.”
“No,” he said, winking at her. “I’m saving that for our second date.”
He smiled and went back into the courtroom, leaving Rachel laughing and alone.
Hannah tried to get Rachel to come to the announcement at the distillery, but Rachel again explained to her the inappropriateness of her attendance. She did promise that Sherry would attend and report back to her on the event.
So on that Friday evening, instead of heading north out of Bourbon Springs and toward the distillery, Rachel found herself being whisked away to the east by Brady. The route was one of Rachel’s favorites. The roads passed through much of the southwestern Outer Bluegrass region, which featured a mixture of low rolling hills and sprawling, emerald pastures. It looked a lot like the Inner Bluegrass, but with more knolls and prominences. There were plenty of horse farms through this area, but not as many as the true Inner Bluegrass region with its legendary farms. Bourbon Springs sat near the geographic divide between the Outer Bluegrass and the Knobs, which was a hillier region to the west of town, and beyond Old Crow Creek.
When they reached the outskirts of Harrodsburg, the oldest continuous settlement west of the Appalachian Mountains, Rachel figured out where Brady was taking her.
“Shakertown?” she asked and he nodded. “But we could easily be spotted in the restaurant.”
“We won’t be eating in the restaurant,” he said. “Remember what I told you? We’re eating outside.”
He had indeed told Rachel that, and had advised her to wear comfortable clothes for dining al fresco. Taking his advice, she had worn black linen capris, black sandals, and a white sleeveless linen shirt. She brought a black silk and cotton sweater along in case she needed it, which seemed unlikely that warm summer evening. As for Brady, he looked smartly casual in cleanly-pressed khakis and bright green polo shirt.
Around eight miles east of Harrodsburg, they started seeing the signs for Shaker Village at Pleasant Hill. The Shakers—or Society of Friends as they had been known—had established a settlement at the site in the nineteenth century and it existed until the early twentieth century. There were no more Shakers around the vicinity anymore (probably had something to do with that sexual abstinence thing) and the several hundred acres, including a number of original buildings, had become a historic site; there were guest rooms, a restaurant, and several buildings where tourists could see various items being made, such as brooms. It was a lovely place and rested on a high plateau west of the Kentucky River. If one went toward the garden area and beyond to the barns, there was a panoramic view toward the southeast of the valley surrounding the river.
Brady parked his SUV in the lot, which Rachel nervously noted was full that Friday evening. It was sometimes difficult to get a reservation at the restaurant; it was well known for its scrumptious Southern cooking. Though it had been years since the last time Rachel had visited the Trustees’ House, which was the large, two-story building that served as site headquarters and which housed the restaurant, she had no trouble recalling her enjoyment of the food. She couldn’t recreate the entire menu in her head, but was pretty sure fried chicken had been on the bill of fare.
Brady opened her door, offered her his arm, and led her in silence away from the parking lot and up the wide gravel-covered path which was flanked by white open plank fencing. Their destination was not the Trustees’ House but beyond it, past the large garden filled with thick rows of leafy vegetable plants and flowers, with the bright zinnias and cosmos punctuating the hazy summer twilight like multicolored stars fallen to earth. As they passed the last building at the end of the long path, the land opened up to reveal a broad field and the wonderful river valley view in the far distance.
In the middle of that field was a lone picnic table, complete with a red-and-white checkered tablecloth, and a picnic basket atop that.
They stopped and took in the scene, and Rachel turned to him.
“I didn’t know they did picnics,” she said, squeezing his arm in delight.
“They do if you ask,” Brady said.
“And you were clever enough to ask,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.
He led her to the table, and she sat while he opened the basket. Brady pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses and poured for both of them.
“Drink a little first? Or do you want to go ahead and eat?” he asked, placing the bottle on the table.
“Eat and drink,” she said. “Open up that basket. I want to see the goodies.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until later tonight to see those, my dear,” he said, and raised his eyebrows mischievously.
Chapter 19
Brady was the perfect gentleman during the picnic.
But once they returned to Rachel’s house, he was nothing like a gentleman.
After being sexually separated for several weekdays, Brady was most anxious to renew Rachel’s sexual acquaintance that Friday night and long into Saturday morning—and she was just as eager.
When Brady left Saturday morning to return to his house, Rachel marveled it had only been a week since Marie had destroyed her mailbox, the strange little occurrence that finally had brought them together. Rachel certainly felt their one-week anniversary was a milestone worth marking, so when Brady came over again that Saturday night, she surprised him with a celebratory cake. Her chest served as Brady’s plate. He apparently was quite hungry because he ate every bite. In fact, he licked the platter—and other parts—clean.
Rachel then spent Sunday with her parents and they all went to The Cooperage for Sunday dinner. When her mother remarked that Rachel looked tired, Rachel said she hadn’t slept well the prior evening and hoped her mother didn’t notice her blush. She had decided not to tell her parents about Brady; she wasn’t sure they could keep her secret and knew they would not approve of her decision to hide the relationship. Nonetheless, Rachel still had to fend off questions about him. They’d heard the rumors concerning his less-than-polite behavior toward her, including the supposed “incident” in the grocery store. The sad truth was that this gossip had a kernel of truth in it; Brady hadn’t been the nicest guy to her over the past few years. And even after they’d had their little makeout session in the evidence vault, the jerk version of Brady had reared his ugly head. Granted, Brady realized his nastiness immediately—but there was no denying the edge was still there.
Yet Rachel was slowly but surely seeing that side of Brady fade away and watching him change for the better. It wasn’t just because of their romantic relationship, although she knew that had to be a big reason for his attitude adjustment.
She’d noticed Brady acting nicer toward Sherry and the clerks. Although she had forgotten to mention to him CiCi’s revelation about the clerks’ attitudes, Brady either intuited he needed to get to know the clerks better or someone else (Eleanor, perhaps?) had dropped the hint. Rachel also witnessed Brady chatting with clerks in the hall several times—not just when he was on the bench. One day during the week after their picnic date, she was pleased to hear him say that he was going downstairs to the clerk’s offic
e to take some signed orders for entry. Maybe he’d seen her do that and had picked up he needed to do it, too. Or maybe he was just finally coming into his own and loving the job for which he had yearned for so long.
One person Brady still needed to charm was Sherry. While Sherry was professional and courteous to him, Rachel saw that the respect just wasn’t there. To that end, Rachel decided to take Sherry to lunch to talk about her outlook as well as Hannah’s campaign announcement. Despite having that cold, Sherry had felt well enough to attend the event at the distillery, and Rachel wanted the scoop.
“Shame you couldn’t attend,” Sherry told her one day the week following the announcement.
They were at Over a Barrel enjoying chicken salad sandwiches and gossiping. Rachel hadn’t yet broached the subject of Brady.
“Well, you know, I couldn’t—” Rachel began to explain.
“Not because of your friendship, although I’m sure you would have liked to have been there,” Sherry interrupted her. “Because of the bourbon! They had a bourbon tasting that afternoon after the announcement in this incredible room overlooking the creek. Plenty of good food, too.”
Politics, free booze, and free food. Often a recipe for stupid.
Rachel asked who was there, and Sherry rattled off a number of names, including Lila McNee. Sherry said she was surprised that Lila was there because she’d heard that Lila was in a land dispute with the distillery. Lila’s land was on the distillery’s southern border.
“Probably went out of curiosity,” Rachel said. “Or maybe the freebies had something to do with it.”
Sherry continued to name people that she had seen, including the mayor of Bourbon Springs, a few city council members, and several local lawyers, including Bruce Colyard, Jon Buckler, Harriet Hensley, and Drake Mercer. Sherry also mentioned seeing Pepper Montrose, a local schoolteacher who was a friend of both Lila and Jon.
It wasn’t surprising the mayor was there; he was an old family friend of the Davenports and liked his Old Garnet, especially the free kind. But hearing the names of the local lawyers did bother Rachel. They were all prominent and well known. She knew Brady had his own campaign committee, headed by Cam Dalton, a former state representative from Bourbon Springs. Cam’s name lent a lot of prestige to Brady’s campaign, and Rachel hoped that the name recognition would help Brady garner votes.
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