Stirring Up Trouble

by Andrea Laurence

  “I can’t believe Trailer Park is going to be a Chamberlain,” Lydia complained, using the old nickname they’d both called Pepper in high school.

  Maddie winced, hoping Pepper was out of earshot. “Lydia,” she chastised.

  “What? You can’t tell me that your granny is happy about all this.”

  “She actually is, although I don’t think Grant would care either way. He does what he wants.”

  Lydia made another irritated sound. “Then she must be getting senile.”

  Adelia Chamberlain was anything but senile. Maddie thought about pointing out that Lydia’s poor attitude just made her sound jealous, but she didn’t think that would help things. She needed to finish her lunch and get through the longest day ever.

  Saturday night after closing the bakery, Maddie drove out to the family home on Willow Lake. She opened the front door of the antebellum mansion and waltzed in as though she still lived there—which she had, all her life, until she went to Paris, and then after she returned for a year or so before she bought the Victorian on Daisy Drive. The house was quiet when she entered, a far cry from her childhood.

  At one time, the twelve residents of the house had kept it in a state of constant chaos. Add in a few friends of the children, a lady over to have tea with Granny, and the whole house was abuzz with activity. Now, the house seemed sad and lonely. Grandpa Chamberlain had died several years back. All six of the kids had moved out. Her baby sister, Hazel, was the last to go off to college just a month ago. That left her parents, Norman and Helen, her grandmother Adelia, and the two servants, Cookie and Winston.

  “Hello?” Maddie shouted into the open hall at the bottom of the staircase.

  “I’m in here, dear.”

  Maddie instantly recognized the voice of her grandmother. That was exactly who she was here to see. Her father was a lawyer, so you’d think Maddie would go straight to him with legal troubles, but despite what Lydia said, that was a last resort. Her father would beat his chest, call his friends, and before she knew it, Emmett would lose his liquor license and have to close down the bar.

  While that would solve her problem, that wasn’t what Maddie wanted. Despite their back and forths, she didn’t want Emmett to lose everything he’d worked for. All she wanted was to get out of this legal snafu and find another way to make peace with her neighbor. That’s where her grandmother came in.

  Maddie found her in her library behind the large mahogany desk. She was in the middle of some correspondence and bill paying, judging by the sprawl of paper, envelopes, and an open checkbook on the blotter.

  “Evening, Granny.”

  Adelia Chamberlain looked up from her paperwork and smiled at her granddaughter. “Hello, Madelyn. What brings you to the house? Isn’t it your bedtime?”

  It certainly felt like it. Getting two hours of sleep, spending all night handcuffed to Emmett, and losing even more time at the police station had left her with zero energy. But this was important. “Almost. I needed to talk to you, though.”

  “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the chair. “I’ll have Cookie bring us some tea.”

  Maddie expected her grandmother to ring the old brass bell she’d used to summon the help her whole life, but instead, she picked up the phone on her desk and typed away, squinting at the screen despite the glasses perched on the tip of her nose.

  “Did you just text Cookie for tea?”

  “Yes, dear. It seems far more civilized, don’t you think?”

  It did, she just didn’t expect her aged grandmother to have anything to do with gadgetry like that.

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Maddie took a deep breath before she launched into her tale. She started with the noise, the battles, and finally, with the handcuffing incident that led to the arrest that morning. She left out the kiss. That would just complicate matters, and she refused to admit that she had a weakness where Emmett was concerned.

  “When do you see Judge Griffin?” Adelia asked when the tale was finished.

  “Monday morning. I’ll have to close the shop for a few hours.”

  Adelia nodded thoughtfully but didn’t say anything. That made Maddie anxious. She knew full well that her grandmother and Judge Griffin were friends. Before her grandpa died, they’d all played golf and vacationed on the Gulf together. She shouldn’t have to piece all this together for her grandmother.

  Cookie, the woman who ran the kitchen at the Chamberlain mansion, arrived just then with a platter. She sat it on the edge of the desk. “Evening, Miss Madelyn. It’s good to see you.”

  “How are you, Cookie?”

  The plump older woman grinned at her. She was eternally pleasant, which Maddie could never understand. As a child, Cookie had been Maddie’s favorite person in the world. She’d let the oldest Chamberlain daughter into her sacred kitchen and taught her to bake. It’d changed Maddie’s life and for that, she would always be grateful.

  “I’m doing well,” Cookie said as she poured two cups of tea. “I’ve got a lovely roast in the oven if you’re staying for dinner. Just be sure not to eat too many of these shortbread cookies or you’ll ruin your appetite.”

  Maddie’s eyes widened as she noticed the delicate china plate filled with her favorite cookies in the whole world. She would never admit it to another living soul, but Cookie’s shortbread was her Waterloo. No matter how many times she attempted to make them or how many times Cookie went over the recipe with her, she could never get them to turn out just right.

  “Oh, Cookie, you know how much I love these. It’ll be hard to stop eating them.” Especially when she was desperate for caffeine and sugar.

  Cookie grinned. “Let me know if you need anything else, Miss Adelia.” Without another word, she slipped from the room and disappeared into her tiled domain.

  They both took a moment to doctor their tea with various sweeteners and cream. Maddie had eaten three shortbread cookies and nearly emptied her teacup before she worked up the nerve to press her grandmother about her predicament.

  “So, do you think you can talk to him for me?” Maddie finally pressed.

  Her grandmother’s white brows went up curiously. “Talk to whom, dear? Emmett?”

  “No,” Maddie frowned into her teacup. She could hardly imagine her grandmother giving Emmett a second glance, much less hold down a long discussion with him. “To Judge Griffin. Before my court appearance.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course I will,” Adelia said with a comforting smile and a soft pat on Maddie’s hand. “I’ll speak to him tomorrow after church.”

  Maddie felt a rush of relief wash over her. With that tension easing from her body, she felt the last of her strength leaving with it. She’d operated today on pure adrenaline and now the magic had worn off. There was no amount of tea that could perk her back up. She was exhausted.

  “You know,” her grandmother said, “it’s Saturday evening. The bar is going to be loud again tonight and you’re not going to get the rest you need.”

  Maddie closed her eyes and inwardly groaned. “I know. I need to get that whole house soundproofed.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen in the next hour, so why don’t you sleep here tonight? The way you look right now, I’m worried you’ll end up in a ditch somewhere on your way home. Stay for dinner, get a good night’s sleep, and spend tomorrow with the family, since the bakery is closed. Then, you’ll be well rested for your hearing with Judge Griffin on Monday morning. I’ll have Winston put fresh linens on your old bed.”

  It sounded wonderful, and Maddie was too tired to argue. She felt like she could sleep from now until church the next morning. Even as she set down her teacup, she could feel her body start to sway in her seat.

  “You poor thing, you’re not even going to make it to dinner. Go upstairs right now and I’ll have Cookie bring you a sandwich to nibble on in bed.”
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  Maddie nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

  Standing, she made her way out of the library and up the stairs. She didn’t even wait for Winston to make up the bed for her. Kicking off her shoes, she collapsed facedown on top of the comforter and passed out.

  It was quiet. Too quiet.

  Not the bar—Woody’s was rarely quiet and tonight was no exception. This evening it was filled with the typical sounds of a Sunday afternoon—professional football and the occasional group cheer or groan depending on how the game was going.

  Things were going fine, and yet, Emmett kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. When the cops didn’t come Saturday night, he’d almost called the station to make sure the officer they sent over hadn’t gotten in a wreck on the way.

  Perhaps the brush with the law had cooled Maddie’s guns. It certainly hadn’t thrilled Emmett, but the less it seemed to bother him, the more it irritated her, so he played it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

  It actually bothered him that she seemed to think being arrested was commonplace for him. Apparently, in Maddie’s universe, poor people were the same as criminals. And of course she presumed he was poor—why else would anyone toil in a run-down old bar if they had another option? Surely he must’ve spent more than one night on the wrong side of iron bars.

  The door opened and Maddie’s brothers Grant and Blake slipped inside. Emmett waved, expecting the brothers to find a table in front of the television, but they came to sit at the bar instead.

  “Not here for the game?” Emmett asked. Blake was a retired quarterback in the NFL. He typically came to watch a game every Sunday evening with his brothers.

  “Not today,” Blake said.

  “Although we’ll still take a cold beer,” Grant added with a smile.

  “Will do.” Emmett pulled out two frosted mugs from the case and poured each of the brothers their favorite brews. “So, if not football, why are you here? Are you going to give me a good talking-to for harassing your sister?”

  Blake laughed. “Lord, no. Trust us, we know exactly how she can be. We lived with her for years. Hell, poor Mitchell had to share a uterus with her.”

  Emmett’s brows went up in surprise as he passed them their drinks. “She’s a twin?”

  “Yep, the illustrious Chamberlain twins. Never have two people so different come out of the same person at one time.”

  “I’ve never met Mitchell,” Emmett admitted. “What’s he like?”

  “He’s the smart one in the family,” Grant said. “More serious than the rest of us. He was always great in school, the valedictorian of his class. He studied while the rest of us played football and chased girls. And now, years later, Blake’s a cripple, I’ve settled down into monogamy, and he’s about to graduate from Vanderbilt as a doctor. Time better spent, I’d wager.”

  “I’m not a cripple,” Blake complained.

  Emmett knew about Blake’s old football injury—anyone who watched ESPN or lived in Rosewood did. It’d taken him out of the NFL and brought him home to coach the high school team. It didn’t hold him back, though. He’d managed to make it to the state championships and get rock star Ivy Hudson to agree to marry him, so it wasn’t all bad. He could tell Grant just liked to rag on his brother.

  And he was right. The two brothers started bickering, as they usually did, so Emmett took a moment to check on the rest of the patrons. Another bowl of pretzels and a second pitcher of beer took care of things. By the time he settled back behind the bar, the two brothers were once again quietly drinking their beers.

  “The point of all that,” Grant continued, “is that he’s very different from Maddie. They’re each perfectionists in their own way, but he’s a lot more fun to be around. He’s serious, but at least he’s got a sense of humor. I guess you’ve got to have one to spend all your formative years with Maddie.”

  “Poor bastard,” Emmett noted. At the very least, Emmett got to admire her beauty while she railed at him. A brother just had to tolerate her with no recourse. “No wonder your brother moved to Tennessee.”

  Blake shrugged and sipped his beer. “He’ll be back. He’s in his last year of med school. I’m not sure where he’ll do his residency, but I’m certain he’ll come back to Rosewood before too long. Someone has to take over Doc Owen’s clinic. That man has been practicing for forty years. He’s almost seventy, I think.”

  “Just as long as there’s someone in town to treat my wounds when the judge throws the book at me tomorrow.”

  “You don’t think it’ll be that bad, do you?” Blake asked.

  “I don’t know,” Emmett admitted. “I’ve never had to go in front of a judge before. I don’t even know who Judge Griffin is. If he comes in here, he doesn’t do it in his robe.”

  “I doubt he’s been here,” Grant said with a chuckle. “He’s more likely to be hanging out with my grandmother’s set at the country club than this crowd.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better, man.” Emmett knew he was in trouble. He wasn’t only going up against the judge, he was doing it over a dispute with the daughter of the most powerful family in town. Chances were, she would get a little hand slap and he would take the brunt of it, with her grandmother and her father sitting in the front row of the courtroom eyeing Judge Griffin. While Emmett had made some influential friends in town, they’d likely all side with poor, sweet Maddie in this case.

  “Would you feel better with a lawyer?” Grant asked.

  Emmett couldn’t suppress a chuckle at that suggestion. “Who am I going to hire? Your father?”

  “No, of course not. What about Logan Anthony?”

  Blake’s brow went up at that suggestion. “Do you really think going into the courtroom with Logan will make it better? You know Dad’ll be there. That stupid business rivalry they’ve got going is getting pretty ridiculous. I don’t think Emmett wants to draw that kind of attention.”

  Blake was probably right. When Pepper’s older brother, Logan, moved back to Rosewood and opened up his own law firm, it had been a big to-do in town. The Chamberlain firm had never faced any kind of competition before. Most people assumed that Logan would go out of business pretty quickly, but he’d actually been fairly successful from what Emmett had heard. The rivalry between the two firms had gotten pretty heated over the summer, but Logan refused to back down. Emmett got the feeling that Norman wasn’t used to not getting his way. Obviously, Maddie had gotten that trait from her father.

  Grant shrugged dismissively. “Who cares what Dad thinks? Logan is going to be a part of my family one day. I have to support him or I’ll hear about it at home.”

  Emmett put the information about Logan in his back pocket. He didn’t think he needed a lawyer. At least not yet. But if he did, his only choice was Logan. Either way, he didn’t really want to talk about this anymore. He was anxious enough about tomorrow. “I’ll keep that in mind. Speaking of home, how’s the work coming on Pepper’s house, Grant?”

  Last March, an electrical fire had wiped out half the home Pepper and Grant had worked so hard to renovate. They’d been working on it all summer while they both lived in Grant’s loft.

  “It’s coming,” Grant said with a touch of weariness on his face at the mention of their project. “What’s slowing us down is that we’re not just rebuilding what burned down, we’re having to update the whole place, really. We changed the footprint of the old house and added a new master suite to the back. It’s framed and sided, the roof is on, but the inside . . . We’re redoing all the plumbing throughout. All the electrical work, too. We’re replacing all the windows with the super-insulated kind. New appliances, new fixtures, new insulation. We had a lot of smoke and water damage to deal with on top of everything else, so it’s just a slow process.”

  “It sounds like you’ll have a brand-new house before too long.” Emmett understood the headaches of renovation. When he moved
to Rosewood, it had taken him months and a lot of money to get Woody’s and the apartment upstairs just the way he wanted it. But in the end, it was worth the hassle.

  “It darn near will be. We’re close to being finished, though. We’re hoping to be in by Halloween. Maybe we’ll throw a party at Christmas after we get settled.”

  “And maybe I’ll be out of jail and can come,” Emmett said, only half joking. Disturbing the peace was hardly a long-term offense, but if going in front of the judge didn’t put an end to his battle with Madelyn, they might end up back there again before long.

  Blake shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, man. That’s not going to happen. I know Maddie, and as stubborn as she is, she likes to win more than anything. If she can’t find a way to beat you, she’ll find a new battle to fight. Eventually, she’ll come up with something else to outrage her and she’ll leave you and your bar alone.”

  Emmett couldn’t help the momentary feeling of disappointment at Blake’s observation. As much grief as she caused him, he didn’t want Maddie to leave him alone. He just wanted to stifle the flow of cutting words from her mouth by kissing her until she forgot why she was mad. He wanted to breathe in the warm scent of the lavender soap on her skin, and not just because they’d been handcuffed together most of the night.

  He certainly wasn’t going to mention that to her overprotective brothers, though. They might be on his side of the noise battle, but when it came to someone dating their sister, it was a brother’s prerogative not to trust the guy in question.

  “I’ll try to keep that in mind as I’m led off by the bailiff in handcuffs.”

  “At the very least,” Grant added, “if you do go to jail and have to close the bar, I promise to come over to Woody’s every night and crank up the jukebox while you’re locked up.”