Tuesday
Ty was getting his books out of the back seat when there was a knock at his window. He looked up, startled to see Dr. Johnson standing there. Ty opened the door slowly.
"Mr. Borden. It appears that you are going to be late again for my class."
"Dr. Johnson. I still have two minutes. I'm hurrying. Please." Ty begged.
"Excuse me. Dr. Johnson?"
He turned toward her voice. "Yes...oh, oh." He started to stutter.
"Hi. I'm Amy Fleming. Ty has told me a lot about you." She held out her hand to him to shake.
The aged professor momentarily froze, seemingly star struck, his mouth gaped, his eyes fixed on her. Ty stood silently, off to the side, watching closely the effect she had on him.
His composure regained, Dr. Johnson took one step forward, gently took her outstretched hand, held it with both of his, as though it was a delicate piece of crystal.
"Ms. Fleming. It's my pleasure to meet you." He said in a revenant tone, smiling, his eyes shining, still holding her hand.
"Likewise. But, please call me Amy." She returned his smile.
"Amy." He repeated her name, than confessed. "I must admit, I am long time admirer of your work. But, I assume Mr. Borden told you that already."
Amy glanced at Ty, then back at his professor. "He did. Last night. Thank you. I am flattered, Dr. Johnson."
"Oh, where are my manners? Please call me Lance."
"Okay, Lance." She nodded. "I understand that you teach Ty's Large Animal Clinical class."
He released her hand, not taking his gaze off of her. "I do. Will you be joining us today?" He asked hopefully.
"I'd really like to but I have an appointment across campus at 10..." She explained.
Dr. Johnson's smile faded quickly. "Oh..." he said with clear disappointment.
Amy continued her explanation. "I have a meeting with Dr. Neebin Flower."
"Ah Dean Flower. Over in Sociology."
"Yes. Coincidently, she told me that you have a position open in your vet clinic."
"I do. Know someone who interested?" His eyebrows rose as did his interest.
Ty stiffened. He shook his head No, almost imperceptibly.
She briefly glanced at Ty. "Possibly." She responded without further comment.
"I see." He paused, then bargained. "Tell you what. Join my class today, just for a few minutes. And we can discuss the position later by phone."
Without hesitation, Amy took his offer. "Deal. But, I can join for only twenty or so minutes, I can't be late."
"Splendid!" Dr. Johnson's smile returned.
"Do you mind if I bring my friend, Ruth, with me? She won't disturb your class." She asked. Ty, still standing a few feet away, smirked at her request.
"Any friend of yours, Amy, is a friend of mine." Dr. Johnson said.
"Thanks. Just a moment."
Both men watched Amy jog around to the passenger side, open the door, reach in, retrieve something, then slam the door. She jogged back with Ruth cradled in her hands, close to her chest, her journal tucked under her arm.
Grinning, she introduced Ruth. "Lance, please meet Ruth Bader Ginsburg."
The professor laughed. "What a beautiful English Setter. And what a distinguished name." He reached out to pet the tiny canine. "Sweet. May I hold her?"
Ty stood back, watched his aged, prickly, punitive professor turn into a marshmallow crossed with a giddy teenage boy.
"Sure." Amy passed her sleepy pup to his outreached hands.
"Ruth, you are quite stunning!" He spoke directly to the pup, holding her face close to his for inspection. "How old is she?" He drew her to his chest, gently rubbed between her ears. Ruth stretched, then snuggled into him.
"Just over a week now."
"I grew up with setters. We hunted grouse. They are a magnificent breed. Smart, loyal, birdie, beautiful." Then he added. "They do shed...a lot. Do you plan to hunt with her?"
"No. But, I will train her to set, point, flush, retrieve."
Ty interrupted. "Dr. Johnson. It's five after nine. Shouldn't we head to class?"
He looked at his watch, frowned. "Right. Better head over. I abhor being late."
Walking quickly, Dr. Johnson led the way with Amy by his side in rapt conversation. Ty walked behind the pair, trying to catch pieces of their conversation.
"Here we are." Dr. Johnson paused at closed wooden door, marked UCVM Room 327 on the opaque glass half window. A hum of talking transcended the door even before he opened it.
The door opened at the back of the large classroom. Rows of long, stationary tables stair-stepped down toward the podium. A huge monitor was mounted to the wall behind a wooden lectern centered, flanked by two wooden tables. Only the first few rows in the front were occupied by students, talking and laughing, completely unaware of their presence.
The professor strode into the room, walking down the left side aisle with authority, with purpose. "Class." He announced. Conversation stopped immediately, collectively students turned to look, to watch him walk toward the front.
Following behind him, Ty and Amy silently found seats in the second row with Kurt, David, Jordan, Frank and Amit, each moving one seat to the right to make room, each giving them looks of concern. Amy sat between Ty and Amit. Exchanging a quick nod and smile with Amit, Amy busied herself, thumbing through her journal, folding down page corners, not paying attention to those around her.
The rest of the class had their eyes pealed, watching Dr. Johnson as he placed his messenger bag on the table next to the lectern, then stood facing the class, Ruth still clutched in his arms. Uncharacteristically, he was smiling.
He cleared his throat. "Class. First, I want to apologize to you for my tardiness today. As you know, I am a stickler for punctuality and detest lateness. Therefore, I am sentencing myself to detention today in my office for 30 minutes."
The class was silent except for a few nervous, muffled coughs.
The professor dragged the back of his hand across his forehead glistening from their brisk walk. He pressed his lips, adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, conceded. "Ah. Bad joke...I do apologize for my rudeness. It will not happen again."
He cleared his throat again. "You may be wondering what or whom, I have in my arms. This, class," He held Ruth away from his chest momentarily, toward the class, then continued. "Is Ruth Bader Ginsburg. She is a one week old English Setter."
He pulled her back to his chest, rubbing his thumb along her back. Her tail escaped his cupped hand, twitched into a small wag.
A smattering of oohs, ahhs floated upward.
"She is owned by Ms. Amy Fleming, a guest in our class today. Ms. Fleming please stand."
When she didn't immediately rise, Ty nudged her, disrupting her focus. "Amy." He whispered, signaled to her to stand.
"Oh." Quickly Amy stood, smiled as she turned to the class, giving a quick wave to polite clapping. "Hello everyone."
Just as quickly, she retook her seat, her eyes retreating to her journal again.
"Class, Ms. Fleming is well known in equine circles in Alberta, in Canada, and worldwide. She just returned from Europe where she successfully led the Saudi Arabian equestrian team as their head trainer to gold in the individual and silver in the team jumping events in the World Games." Dr. Johnson relayed Amy's tour accomplishments with pride, as a father would, grinning all the while. Ty looked at Amy, she wasn't paying any attention to his compliments.
He paused briefly to breathe, then continued with his tally of her career. "But, that's not all. Her whole life has been dedicated to horses. She runs the Heartland Ranch where she heals and homes injured and neglected horses. She has jockeyed racehorses, won show jump competitions, won the Ring of Fire competition as the youngest female in its history, was invited to join Dark Horse as a Liberty performer, has gentled and saved wild horses, has healed injured an Olympic horse injured in a horrific multi-vehicle crash. You may even know her as Miracle Girl. She is a true talent and a gift to the equine world."
"Ms. Fleming has agreed to share with us one of her many horse stories from the European Tour and World Games. So please join me in welcoming her to the front."
He started to clap signaling to the class to follow suit.
Surprised, Ty leaned over, whispered in her ear, "Are you good with this?"
She nodded, smiled.
"Well. Okay then." He stood, moved his chair so she could maneuver to the aisle. As she passed him, he whispered again. "You got this."
"Thanks." She whispered back.
She walked quickly to the front onto the podium, shook hands with the professor, whispered in his ear, then handed him some items. Standing along side him on the podium, Amy smiled, gave a quick wave.
"Ms. Fleming. Thank you. The lectern is all yours." The professor stepped off to side of the podium.
Amy smiled, stepped up to the lectern with her journal, acknowledged their applause, adjusted the microphone then leaned in. "Hello and thank you everyone. Thank you Dr. Johnson for inviting me here today. And, to all of you for welcoming me."
"Being head trainer for the Saudi Arabian equestrian jumping team was the opportunity of my lifetime. The entire experience was incredible. It challenged me, stretched me, strengthen me, changed me in ways I had hoped and in ways I had never fathomed." She made eye contact with Ty.
"For four months, the entire team and I were based at a near perfect equestrian facility in picturesque Falaise, France in the Normandy region. From that base, I was fortunate to work with incredible horses, to collaborate with scores of talented people, to work in well equipped and world class indoor and outdoor training facilities, to access advanced training tools and veterinary care, to travel to amazing places throughout Europe, and to participate in premier show jumping competitions, culminating in the World Games."
"And, we succeeded in our goals!" She said with emphasis, satisfaction, raising her voice. "We won the individual and team medals in the Olympics and in renowned competitions leading up to that. We received accolades, praise and notoriety." She chuckled. "You could say we earned our paychecks."
A smattering of applause and laughter rose from the audience.
"The whole experience was incredible, remarkable, indelible. Truly."
"But, for me, the seminal, most impactful reward was not rooted in medals, recognition, or even money. My reward came from helping horses live their life to their fullest and healthiest with owners and environments best suited to their needs, abilities and potential. It is immaterial to me if the horse is an Olympic show jumper, a pleasure horse, a plow horse, an abandoned horse, or even a horse at the end of its life. To me, its the horse that matters most."
Students applauded lightly.
"The horse story that I will share with you begins in Rome, Italy, about two months into the tour. One of my responsibilities as trainer was to acquire additional jumpers, those with natural aptitude, talent, athleticism, desire to win, those with a solid potential to augment the team's possibilities. During one such shopping trip, in the city of love, I fell for a beautiful horse named Winter's Snow."
The professor cleared his throat loudly. Amy glanced at him, nodded, then glanced at the monitor behind her. Turning back to the class, she said. "That's a picture of Winter's Snow on the screen. Isn't she beautiful?"
Murmuring rose from the seats.
She opened her journal to the first folded corner. "I kept a journal throughout the tour. Here's my first journal entry about Snow." She cleared her throat and began to read.
"Winter's Snow, a six year old mare, a Holsteiner warmblood, was posted for sale on Horse Scout message board for 16k. She had won a few of Ireland national shows for an Ireland team, but not the country's leading team. She is a lovely gray ombré, light gray head, mane and tail but the gray darken going down to an almost midnight black at her hooves. She is a medium size horse, just 67 inches, high-set neck and powerful legs and haunches. Snow has the most beautiful blueish gray eyes, long gray eyelashes. I fell in love with with her the first time I saw her. I thought she had real potential, Ahmed disagreed, dismissed her immediately. So I bought her for a mere 8k myself so I could ride her after a long day of training in Normandy. I miss my horse, Spartan so much, hope Snow can help fill the gap."
Finishing that entry, she looked up. "By the way, Prince Ahmed al Saeed was the team captain. So, Winter's Snow became my personal horse in France. I rode her every day, after a long day of work, as a way to relax, clear my head, relieve stress, get exercise. She was an absolute joy to ride, a dream horse in every way. Sometimes we just rode through the miles of scenic meadows, rolling hills, and mature woodlands surrounding the stables, sometimes we danced amongst the swaying, red poppies, sometimes we just talked."
The class laughed gently.
"And, yes. I talk to horses. A lot!" She grinned, laughed at herself. "Mostly about nothing of great import."
"Anyhow. Snow was amazing, she grounded me, helped me adjust, saw me thru bouts of homesickness." She paused, looked at Ty. "Soon after, I began to incorporate her into my daily training sessions with the team. Because she was quick learner and skilled with bonding, Liberty and jumping exercises, Snow and I were able to demonstrate simple and complex skills and moves to the rest of the team for them to mimic, follow and learn." Her voice, her face glowed, engaged her audience as she talked.
"About three weeks later, one of the riders, Omar, approached me about the upcoming Barcelona competition. Here's that entry."
"Omar on the other hand wanted to switch out Zeus for Winter's Snow. I hadn't intended for her to be in competition, but she had proven to be an excellent jumper, with solid, consistent form and graceful style. So we made the switch."
Amy scanned the room, catching the eye of a student, a young woman in the first row, seemingly talking directly to her.
"And Snow and Omar were a formidable team from the get-go. They placed fifth in the individual event in Barcelona, an impressive showing for the pair's first competition start. A week later in Antwerp, their second start as a team, they earned a win, this time second place. They were on a roll."
"Snow's performance, her abilities, her wins caught the eye if my boss, the Prince. Now, recall...he initially dismissed her." She shrugged her shoulders, made a momentary sad face. "Realizing his mistake, he offered to buy her at double my investment. I declined. So he raised it to three times." Amy grinned, paused. "I declined again."
The front row student grinned back, nodded her head, yelled. "You go girl!"
Amy laughed.
"Next up was the London competition. Omar and Snow were paired again. And, here's where the story gets really interesting, crazy even!" Her voice full of enthusiasm, her mood infectious.
She asked, "Wanna hear more?"
The class responded, "Yes!" She turned the page, began to read.
"Winter's Snow according to her groom had a restless night. Dr. Cairo, our vet, checked her but found nothing out of the ordinary physically. She seemed anxious, out of sorts when I spoke to her."
"See? I told you. I talk to my horses, and you should too!" Amy grinned, then continued.
"I started with T-Touch which seemed to help some, but didn't ease her restlessness. So, we took a walk through the stables, hoping to sooth her anxieties. On the other side of the stables, Snow stopped at the stall of a silvery ombré horse with light eyes. It was astonishing how much the two horses looked alike. Snow snorted, her ears rotated, her head bobbed up and down. The other horse responded in kind, like they knew each other. She stretched her head out to the other horse, they greeted, nuzzled each other. I wish I had taken a picture!"
"The head trainer for Irish team, Patrick Little, recognized Winter's Snow and called her, surprising me. As it turns out, Snow is the twin sister of Winter's Drift, who is on Ireland's team."
Amy looked out across the room. "Isn't that just wild?" In response, unintelligible murmuring, random words, laughter rose, scattered around the room.
"Both were on the team until Winter's Snow performance became lackluster so she was released from the team. That's how she came to be for sale through Horse Scout, where I found her. We chatted for a bit about the twins, other horses, the competition. He gave me his business card. Snow seemed to be satisfied with her visit with Winter's Drift and relaxed so we headed back to her stall."
"The press caught on before the competition that Winter's Snow and Winter's Drift were twins, on two separate teams so there was a bit of a buzz. And, somehow the two horses competed one after the other with Snow first. She jumped the course really well. Exiting the course, Snow looked at Drift almost challenging her. Drift nodded as she stepped up to the course. She jumped really well too. Her time was just slightly better than Snow's. So exciting. At the end of the first round, Drift was third and Snow was fourth."
Amy started talking faster, with more excitement in her voice. Ty scanned the room, all eyes were on Amy, awaiting her next words. "So the next day.."
"The second round was just as exciting between the two sisters. Snow entered the ring with a new confidence, so it seemed. She held her head high, her motion exceptional fluid, graceful. She jumped perfectly, no faults, great time. She seemed to challenge Drift when the two horses passed each other. And Drift, didn't disappoint. She too upped her round, clean jumps, no faults with just a fraction of a second behind Snow. At the end of the round, Omar and Snow were second and Drift third."
"The press conference after the second round was entertaining, it seemed that a bunch of the questions were about Snow and Drift. As her owner and trainer, I was on the receiving end of their questions. Then, Patrick and Drift joined Snow and me for an interview and pictures for the local newspaper. Fun."
Dr. Johnson cleared his throat again. She looked at him, nodded, then pointed to the monitor. "Look!" She pointed to the screen. "Here's is a newspaper article headlined Twins Competing for Different Countries and a picture of the two horses. They look so much alike, it's hard to tell them apart. The horse on the right is Snow and Drift is on the left. Don't they look so happy?"
Murmurs rose as Amy returned to her journal.
"As always morning came early. I was at the stables by 6, Calla was already there. Snow again seemed restless so I was preparing to walk her to Drift's stall. But, lo and behold, Patrick showed up with Drift, apparently she had a restless night too. In no time, we were swarmed with press, asking questions, taking pictures. The twins had become the feel good story of the competition."
"The day was absolutely beautiful, a bright blue sky, a gentle breeze, a perfect day to compete. And, everyone seemed excited. When we got to the arena, it became clear that a Winter Mania had taken hold. People in the stands were wearing T-shirts that said either Winter Team Snow or Winter Team Drift. It was crazy. When it was Snow's turn to jump, the crowd started chanting Snow! Snow! The announcer had to ask everyone for silence. I have never seen anything like it."
She looked to the professor, nodded, then pointed to the monitor. "Dr. Johnson has posted several articles and pictures from that day. I want you all to look at the picture there, bottom right. Check out the crowd! Their support for the two sisters was kinda wild!"
"And Snow didn't disappoint. She was so incredible. She sailed over every jump with such ease and grace. Her time was excellent too. Omar was thrilled, he couldn't stop grinning ear to ear. Exiting the ring, she nodded to Drift, who seemed to nod back."
"When she entered the ring, the crowd went wild, started chanting Drift! Drift! Drift was funny. She kept nodding to the crowd, spurring them on even more. Again the announcer had to warn the crowd to be quiet."
"Drift's run was just as flawless. Smooth, graceful, confident. Her score and her time was exactly Snow's. They were tied in that round. The crowd started chanting Winter! Winter! I think the announcer gave up, and just let the crowd go wild."
An low, rhythmic undercurrent "Winter! Winter!" began to ripple through the room.
"That's right! You got it!" She cheered the class on.
"For that round, Snow and Drift tied for second."
"After all the overall competition scores were tallied, in the individual event, France came in first, Snow and Omar came in second, Drift and Ireland came in third. Our team came in third in the team event!"
Amy stopped talking. She stood there, until the room grew silent.
"As great as that was, it was all short lived." Amy's tone was solemn as she read the next entry.
"Back at our home post in Falaise, Snow seemed lethargic, listless. She did not bounce back from our trip. She underperformed even simple jumps. And though it may sound odd, to me she seemed sad, maybe depressed. I wondered if she was missing her twin sister. "
She continued from memory. "And she didn't rebound. At the competition in Salzburg, Austria, Snow was off, sluggish, she seemed depressed. During practice runs she clipped several easy jumps so I removed her from competition and paired Omar with another horse."
"After the press conference, I ran into Patrick Little, Ireland's head trainer. He asked about Snow. Drift had been pulled from the competition as well for lackluster performance since London. He didn't even bring her to Salzburg. We agreed that the two sisters missed each other."
"My entry the next day..."
"Patrick Little visited Snow's stall this morning. He brought Snow Drift's blanket which seemed to perk her up a lot. I, in turn, gave him Snow's blanket. I am worried about Winter's Snow. She seems so sad, lethargic, even Drift's blanket didn't help for long. And, she is barely eating. I won't have her compete in next week's competition."
"Back in our home base again, Winter's Snow did not improve. I was worried, so I tried different things. Nothing seemed to help."
"Turned out in the field for exercise, she just stood there looking into the distance. So I rode her bareback for a bit just to make sure she got some exercise. She didn't seem to mind it but didn't seem to be overjoyed with it either."
"I texted Patrick Little to check on Drift and to compare notes. Same story, sad, depressed, listless. He promised to bring her to Falsaise this weekend."
"I was still asleep when Patrick texted."
"I swear, Patrick texted really early that morning!" She laughed as did the class.
"Yesterday, his team had landed in Normandy and had settled into an equestrian farm about 30 minutes north our chateau. He offered to bring Drift to our locale by trailer.
"At 2, I met Patrick and Drift at our security building. When Snow saw Drift, they both got so excited, whinnying, snorting, prancing. We decided to turn them out into the field where they frolicked, ran, chased and rolled around. Patrick and I laughed at the miraculous transformation. They were so happy."
"He told me that his best offer was 8k, what I had originally paid for her. Without hesitation, I accepted, then we shook on the deal, then hugged. I was so happy because Snow would be with her twin sister. "
"After a long goodbye to Snow and some tears, we took a couple of selfies with the twins."
A picture of the four them was displayed on the monitor.
"At the World Games in Caen, France, I ran into Patrick who updated me on Snow and Drift. The twins were doing well, eating, playing, running. I recall Patrick telling me that they love to play Tag, chasing each other around the field, then switch who was IT. I was so happy then and now. Patrick still keeps me abreast of their adventures, sends me pictures."
"Winter's Snow is incredible horse, beautiful, intelligent, sensitive, graceful, athletic. She had an immense desire to please, compete and win until her desire to be with her twin became even stronger. A horse can teach us a wealth from their example, if we just listen, learn, grow. Winter's Snow reminded me that the accolades and rewards of competing and winning are short lived, fleeting, meaningless if you can't be with the ones you love. So, for me, I am back in Alberta, happy to be with the ones I love and doing the work I was born to do."
"So to conclude, I encourage you to be open to the many opportunities, adventures that life offers, even those outside of your comfort zone. But, be sure to listen, learn, grow from those experiences. You won't regret it. Thank you."
The class stood, clapping, cheering.
Dr. Johnson stepped up, leaned into the microphone. "Wow. What a treat. Thank you Ms. Fleming."
He shook her hand, gave her a quick hug, thanked her again. Amy stepped aside. He addressed the class. "Exams start next Monday. A few bonus questions will be added. Class dismissed." Dr. Johnson released his class.
Amy waved a last time, gathered her journal, her things and Ruth, thanked Dr. Johnson, shook his hand again then walked down the aisle toward Ty.
"Well, Ms. Fleming, you were awesome." Ty greeted her with a grin.
"Well thank you Mr. Borden." She gushed back.
As they walked out, several vet students approached them wanting to talk, to shake her hand, slowing their progress to her truck.
Standing at the driver side door of her truck, Ty leaned in. "I am so proud of you. I had no idea that you could do that."
"Thanks. I had lots of practice at Press conferences." She bumped her shoulder into his. Then they both laughed.
She looked at her watch, "Oh. Man. I better hurry."
Ty opened the truck door, Amy climbed in. When she and Ruth were situated, he closed the door. Rolling the window down, stuck her elbow out. "So you are done at 1?" She asked.
"Yeah. Wanna grab lunch then?" His crooked smile flashed.
"Maybe." She answered, a tiny smile played in her lips.
"Maybe, huh?" He retorted. "Your adoring fans already filled your calendar?" He teased.
"Ah. No," she chuckled. "It's just I'm not sure how long this meeting will last. Plus, I got to go to the Polo Club." She explained.
"Text me when you're done. Okay?"
She nodded, turned the ignition key, sparking the engine to life.
From the front passenger seat, Ruth started wailing, a long, drawn out, high pitched cry punctuated by a second of silence when she inhaled. Immediately, Amy tensed up, her hands gripped the steering wheel.
"Oh. Shoot. I don't want to be late."
Seeing her distress, Ty touched her arm to calm her, then offered to help. "Hey. You drive and I'll feed her. I can jog back to class."
"You sure?" Amy asked hopefully.
"I got time." He fibbed.
"Thanks! Ty really."
Amy pulled into the parking space in front of the Administration Building, cutting the engine. "Well. Here goes nothing." She said flippantly.
"Amy. Not nothing." His eyes found hers. "This is important." He held up her journal.
"It's just so hard.." She didn't finish.
"Yeah. It will be hard. But. You're doing the right thing." He handed the journal to her. "Do you want me to come in with you?"
"Thanks. But no. I need do this."
"Yes. And. You definitely can."
"Thanks." She opened her door. "Leave Ruth in her box. She's fed, she'll just sleep. I'll crack the windows." She pressed the button to lower the windows an inch.
They both got out of the truck and met on the sidewalk. He put his hands on her shoulders, leaned into her, his forehead to hers. "You got this."
When she didn't answer, he pulled back, squeezed her shoulders, gave a little shake. "You do. Look. You just made Dr. Punctuality late, got him to apologize, not to mention wowed 35 obnoxious vet students. You got this!"
Still, she was unconvinced.
"How many lawyers does it take to screw in a light bulb?"
"What?" She cocked her head in confusion.
"How many lawyers does it take to screw in a light bulb?" He repeated his question.
A thin, forced smile touched her lips. She shook her head, "I have no idea."
"Three. One to screw in the bulb and two to shout "I object"!" He chuckled.
She rolled her eyes.
"So, you'll send me a text. Okay?"
"Okay."
He waited, watched until she was inside the building, then took off, running to his next class as fast as he could, knowing he would be late.
Once inside the lobby, Amy stopped mid-stride, then turned, peered back through the lobby windows. The sidewalk was empty, Ty was gone. Alone in the lobby, unable to take a step forward, her heart began to race, her hands began to sweat, all confidence gone. .
"Okay Amy. You can do this." She muttered. She drew a deep breath in through her nose then let it out, telling herself to settle, to calm, to move forward.
Arriving in the reception area, the assistant greeted her immediately.
"Hello Ms. Fleming, it's so nice to see you again. Dr. Flower is waiting for you. Please follow me."
She escorted Amy down the long hall, passing by Summer's office, and into the same conference room where they had met yesterday.
"Amy!" Summer rose from her high backed chair to greet her open arms, welcoming her with a hug.
"Hello Summer." Released from her embrace, Amy forced a smile to hide her nervousness.
"Come on in. Take a seat." Summer closed the door behind them.
Amy took the empty seat, to the right of Summer's spot, her back to the door. She placed her journal on the table in front of her.
"Amy, you remember everyone, I am sure." She quickly introduced everyone again. "On your right is Jane Kim, then Erica Hamilton, Alasie Snow and Charles Emmitt."
Amy nodded to each, mouthing a hushed hello.
"Would you like something to drink?" Summer asked.
"Yes. Water please." Amy's mouth was dry, her stomach somersaulting, the nape of her neck damp.
Alasie rose, got her a glass of ice water, handed it to her.
"Thanks." Amy smiled gratefully, then downed three quarters of it, before shakily setting the glass down on the table. Sensing eyes on her, she reflexively brought her fingers to her lips to wipe away nonexistent traces of a water mustache. Her cheeks blushed.
Summer, noticing that Amy seemed nervous, anxious, suddenly stood, drawing all eyes to herself. She crossed the room, stopping to inspect the boldly colored painting done in the woodland style of a small bird nestled against the breast of a larger bird.
The Dean turned to the group. "This woodland painting by Jim Oskineegish is called Mother and Daughter. I am always moved by its beauty, its vibrant colors, its symbolism. As you can see, the mother bird is watching over, protecting her young. She does by this instinct, by nature, by love."
"From birds to mammals, mothers are known to take to heroic measures, including risking their own lives, to protect their offspring. Recently, scientists in Portugal have reported that a hormone, Oxytocin, is responsible for this incredible bonding between mothers and their young, and even between couples in love. They dubbed it the Love Hormone."
She caught Amy's eye, smiled. "Regardless of the reason, instinct, nature, love, mothers protect their young."
She walked back to her seat, settled in, continued. "Employers do not have that same force of nature, that love hormone that creates that fierce bond, need, drive to protect the employees. But we do have employment laws."
"Canadian law requires employers to take on that motherly role in the workplace, to protect the health and safety of their employees. Our laws also require employers to prevent violence and harassment in the workplace. French law requires much the same."
"From everything you have told us, Amy, your employer did not fulfill their responsibilities, broke the law, failed to protect you and perpetuated harassment. We want to hold them accountable. But. We can only do it with your help, your facts, your truth."
Amy nodded, whispered, "Okay."
"Amy. Like the last time, we would like to record this meeting. Do we have your permission?"
"Yes."
"Thank you. You have given us quite a bit of important information already. As we discussed on the phone, we wanted to follow up with you on a few things and get some additional details. But before we do that, is there anything else you'd like to share?"
She took another sip of water, then pushed her hair behind her ear. She nodded. "Yes. After Ahmed offered me the head trainer position, a few days before we left on tour, I started writing this." She put both hands possessively on her journal. "My journal."
"Very good. Tell us about it. What did you write in your journal?" Summer inquired.
"Well. I wrote about everything I planned, did, saw, experienced, accomplished. I wrote about the horses, their training, exercise, nutrition plans, vet checks, health and injuries, their strengths and weaknesses, their progress, rider pairings. I wrote about the tour and each competition. Press conferences. The people I worked with...Ahmed, Adela, Syed, Dr. Antar, Calla, the team riders, the grooms." Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the journal, her voice got quiet. "The security team."
Summer made a note. "Sounds like a good account of your work. What else did you write about?" Summer asked.
"You mean outside of work?"
"Both inside and outside of work."
"Well. It was mostly about work. But, I wrote about other things too. Like places we went, hotels where we stayed, restaurants where we ate, what we did, events and parties, sightseeing trips. Let's see. I wrote about the people I met, conversations, phone calls and texts, with home especially. That kind of stuff."
"Did you record the dates?" Erica jumped in, asked.
"Yes. I dated every entry. I wrote every night before I went to sleep."
"Every night?"
"Yes. I did not skip a single day." Amy said. "Well, I wrote every night in this journal until the day I came home." Summer made a note.
"How about the time? Did you record that too?" Erica asked, clearly elated.
"Sometimes I recorded what time I woke, or got to work, had a meeting, or a press conference. Sometimes when I went to bed. Is that what you mean?"
"Yes." Erica continued.
"Why is that important? I didn't always write down the time."
"Well. The fact that you wrote every day and dated your entries establishes the timeline for our case. Time, even approximate time, can be helpful with the chronology of events too."
"Oh. Okay."
"Beyond the timeline of events, your journal likely contains relevant evidence, which will lead to the discovery of additional useful information such as evidence and witnesses." Erica added.
Amy nodded.
"We assemble what you tell us, what is documented in your journal, and what we gather from corroborating evidence and testimony. Together, these substantiates our case to the other side, or to judge and jury, if it gets that far."
"What do you mean, if it gets that far?" Amy asked.
"Amy, most civil cases, including employment ones, are settled by mutual agreement between the parties. A dispute can be settled anytime, before the suit is filed, after it's filed but before trail, or during the trial. And, sometimes even after a verdict is rendered." Erica explained in laymen terms.
"Okay."
"So. Our goal is to win your case, achieve your goals, to hold your employer accountable. The more solid facts, evidence with verifiable dates, times, and witnesses we have, the better for our case. And, the better our case, the sooner we can reach our goal. So your case may never get to a judge and jury. Does that make sense?"
"Yes, it does."
"So Amy no detail is too small or unimportant." Summer added. "Our memory fades pretty quickly. You recorded the details of your day in your journal every day. Essentially as they happened. That can only help our case." Summer summarized.
"Okay."
"Let's get back to your journal. Did you write down your thoughts and feelings about things?" Summer asked.
"Yes." She admitted. "I did. I described my moods, happy, excited, exhausted. Whatever. And, when I was feeling homesick, or frustrated or insecure or upset, it really helped to write it down. It made me feel better. Somehow." Amy's eyes were affixed to the leather journal, worn and bulging.
Summer encouraged her to continue.
She shifted her her seat. "But I wrote all sorts of other stuff. Private stuff. Awful stuff. Things I never wanted anyone to know. Especially not my family or my fiancé. Or anyone really. I just never thought any one else would read this." She bit her lip.
"Amy. We understand this is difficult given the personal nature of your journal. Know that we will safe guard it, handle it appropriately and securely. We will make a copy as not to damage the original."
"Okay."
"But, also know that your journal itself could become relevant evidence in your case. Legally, under the rules of evidence and discovery, Ahmed and his attorneys are entitled to inspect and copy any and all documents that could potentially lead to the discovery of useful evidence to support their case or position. That includes your journal. Are you prepared for that?" Summer asked gently.
She barely nodded.
"Amy?" She nudged her.
"I do understand. My journal will be used in my case. It is the truth so...I am prepared for that." She sighed loudly, then continued. "But, my preference is to keep it private. To share only with you. If it is going to go beyond you, can you tell me ahead of time so I can warn my family and Ty?"
"Your journal is private so it cannot be broadcast or published without your permission. But, it is not considered confidential. So, it may used in your case, in filings, in discovery, in court. But, there are disclosure rules that both sides are bound to follow. We'll do our best to keep it as a client attorney privileged document. But, you should prepare yourself that it likely will become discoverable." Erica slipped into legal jargon.
"Okay." Amy nodded.
"Have you told your family and Mr. Borden?" Jane asked.
"Ty knows everything. My family only knows some things. They know that Ahmed bugged our devices. They obviously know about the protection orders. But they don't know...everything. And, they don't know that I am talking to you."
"Amy. From my experience, you will need a strong support system to go through this. You should consider telling them. Sooner as opposed to later." Summer suggested. "I know this from experience."
"I'll think about it." She swallowed. "My family, well mostly my sister, have been less than supportive. She thinks this is my fault."
Jane interjected immediately. "Amy. I can assure you this is not your fault. This is squarely the fault of your employer. They broke the law, not you. Unfortunately, people often blame the victim. Generally, it's because they do not understand the facts. Nor do they understand the law."
"Jane's right. Amy, if you'd like us to help with your family, explain the law, explain your case, we will." Summer added.
"Thanks. Let me think about it." Amy offered but didn't commit.
"Any other questions before we go back to the topic of your journal?" Summer asked everyone at the table.
Amy shook her head, as did the others.
"Good. Does anybody else know about your journal?" Erica asked.
"Yes."
"Who?"
"Well, the only other person who has read it is Ty. Ty Borden. My fiancé..." she corrected herself. "I mean. He is my ex-fiancé now." She sighed, blinked a few times, to soothe the sting in her eyes.
"Why did he read it?"
"I asked him to." She looked off to the side, rubbed the back of her neck. She tried to explain calmly. "We ended our engagement soon after I got back from the tour. Rather he ended it. He said I had changed, kept secrets from him. Honestly. He was right. I didn't tell him everything." She swallowed hard. "So. I wanted to be honest with him. I wanted him to understand what I did and did not do in Europe, what happened, as it happened, what I went through. I wanted him to know the truth. Not what he or anyone else thought the truth was."
"That must have been pretty hard." Summer interjected.
"Yes. But I am glad it did."
"Do you trust him?" Erica asked.
"Absolutely." She added. "Of course. We are friends. Or trying to be. It's been hard since I got back from Europe. When we broke up. Very hard."
"I bet it was." Summer empathized.
"We'll need to speak with him." Erica stated.
"That will be up to him. But, he's been very supportive."
"Glad to hear that. Like I said, support from friends and family will be important going forward." Summer paused.
"But Amy, please know as we go forward with your suit, he will be subpoenaed and deposed." Erica educated her on the process.
"Oh. I guess I hadn't thought about that. Involving other people."
"Your journal is important, no doubt. But we need witness too. If we don't have witnesses, it would just be your word against Ahmed's word. A "he said, she said" case. It's imperative that we have solid witnesses, hard evidence to prove your allegations that your employer broke the law." Erica explained in simple terms.
Beads of sweat collected on her upper lip, at her hairline. Her stomach turned, her heartbeat quickened. But, she said nothing.
Summer noticed. "Remember Amy, at any point, if you decide to stop, for any reason, we can stop. Okay?"
She didn't respond.
"Amy?"
She nodded. "Summer. I do want to go forward. Especially with your help. I do not want to live with this, in fear that he will do something to my family. And my friends. That there are misconceptions, misinformation about what happened in Europe." Amy pleaded her stance.
"Do you want to take a break?" Summer suggested.
"No. I am good. Let's continue." Amy responded firmly.
"Okay. Let me know if you need one."
"I will."
"Good. Let's continue. Did anyone else know about your journal?"
She inhaled and exhaled deeply before she continued. "Yes. Mrs. Sally Bell knows about it. But she didn't read it."
"Who is Mrs. Bell?"
"She is an elderly lady in Hudson who is a long time family friend. She quite eccentric, very much into her herbs and natural remedies. I've been spending a lot of time with her lately."
"Do you trust her?"
"Yes. Absolutely. She was really the first person who encouraged me to set the record straight."
"How old is she?"
"I'm not sure of her age, seventies or eighties."
"How's her memory? Her mental capacity?"
"She can be sharp as a tack. Sometimes, she's forgetful. Her hearing is unpredictable."
"We may want to talk to her. We'll see."
"Anyone else know about your journal?"
"Well. I told my best friend Soraya Duval that I wrote about everything in my journal. She didn't read it. I have known Soraya my whole life. I trust her with my life."
"Again. We may want to talk to her."
Amy nodded. "By the way. I saw Soraya when I was in London. She goes to school there. She came to the London competition and had dinner with us."
"Okay. We'll make note of that." Erica reviewed her notes. "Amy. You didn't mention your family. Do they know about your journal?"
"No. Not really. I mean, they know that I keep a regular journal about the horses I've treated. My mom always did that. But they don't know about this journal in particular."
"Who do you consider family?"
"My grandfather Jack Bartlett, my sister, Samantha Louise Fleming Morris, her husband Peter Morris, Lisa Stillman, my grandfather's wife. My dad, Tim Fleming."
"Anyone else?"
I have two nieces, Georgie who is 13 and Katie, or Katherine, who is 4."
"Amy. At home, where do you keep your journal?"
"Well, at first I kept it in my bedroom. But, now I keep it in the loft in the barn. I moved out there a couple of weeks ago."
"Did you keep your bedroom locked?
"No."
"Or the loft?"
"No."
When you aren't in your bedroom or loft, do you take your journal with you?"
"Sometimes. But not always."
"We will want to talk to your family. Of course."
"Could Georgie and Katie be excluded? They are so young."
"Katie will be excused for certain. She's too young. Georgie is a teenager."
"Okay." She hesitated. "And, my dad, Tim Fleming. But, I would prefer that he isn't involved. At all."
"Why?"
She shrugged. "He says things without thinking or without any facts. He can be a loose cannon. He caused a lot of problems between Ty and me. He kept inviting Ahmed to dinner."
"Good to know." Erica continued "Again, we will likely want to talk to adults, even your dad. Probably Georgie."
Amy frowned.
Returning to her line of questioning, "Anyone else know about your journal?"
"No." Then she stopped. "Well. I read some entries from it to Dr. Lance Johnson's Large Animal Clinic class today."
"Dr. Johnson? His class?" Summer seemed surprised.
"Yeah. I met him today. He asked if I would share a horse story from the tour." She explained. "So I read the parts about a horse named Winter's Snow. Nothing about my case."
"Well. I know the class enjoyed that. Especially Dr. Johnson." She added.
"Will you subpoena the whole class?"
"Doubtful. But maybe Dr. Johnson." Erica said.
"Oh."
"Anyone else?"
"No. No one else. That I know of." She paused. "Except.." Amy hesitated, trailed off.
"Except?"
"It's probably nothing." She second guessed herself.
"It may be nothing. It maybe be something. Go ahead." Summer coaxed her.
"Well. Matt Baldwin. He's the RCMP officer who has been patrolling the ranch. Anyhow. He asked me this morning if I kept a diary. Which seemed odd, kinda out of the blue. I told him that I didn't."
"Why would he ask about a diary?" Summer asked.
"RCMP's patrols will end tomorrow. He said he needed more evidence to help the RCMP case, to extend the protection."
"You are working with the police and RCMP, so why didn't you just tell him about it?" Erica asked.
"I never told him that I kept a diary or a journal before. It just seemed too coincidental that he would ask. My gut told me not to tell him."
"Ah. Our gut, our intuition is a powerful force. We should all pay more attention to it." Summer reflected.
"Yeah." Amy confessed, lamented. "I am learning that."
"We will subpoena him as well. Maybe sooner as opposed to later." Erica looked Alasie with raised eyebrows. In turn Alasie nodded, made a note.
"We should contact the Hudson police and RCMP as well. Amy who are you working with?"
"Jim Parker, the Hudson police chief. Let's see. Jeff Anderson, he's the security guy with the police. Chief Parker brought in the RCMP. Officers Mark Rodrigues and Matt Baldwin."
"Good. Anything else Amy?" Erica asked.
"No." Then she added. "Well. The police have our phones that were bugged."
"Good to know." Summer took a sip of her coffee.
"Amy. Where did you live in Falaise?" Erica continued her questioning.
"In an apartment. In town. Away from the Chateau where everyone else lived."
"Did you live by yourself?"
"Yes."
"Did you pay your rent or did Ahmed?"
"Well, rent was deducted from my paycheck every two weeks."
"Do you have your paycheck stubs?" Erica asked.
"Yes. I saved them all. They are in here." She patted her journal, proud of herself.
"Excellent. Besides paystubs, did you keep other things like receipts, tickets or pictures?" Erica asked.
"Yes, I kept receipts for all sorts of things. There are even newspaper articles in there. Business cards of people I met. Pictures, postcards, stuff like that. I even have an amended contract in here." Amy almost gushed.
Summer made a note in her notebook.
"Splendid!" Erica grinned.
Summer laughed. "As you can tell, Erica gets very excited by hard evidence!"
"Well. There's lot in here." Amy patted the journal again.
"It will certainly be helpful in your case." Summer continued.
"Amy. Getting back to your journal. In Europe, did you keep your journal with you at all times?"
"No. In Falaise, I left it in my apartment when I was working or when I was out. When I traveled, I took it with me, but I left it in the hotel when I was working or out."
"What about Adela? Did she know about your journal?"
"Adela Safar?"
"Yes.
"Yes. She was my personal assistant so we were together a lot. Especially after work or when we traveled. She lived in the apartment next door to me in Falaise. And, when we traveled, we stayed in the same suite. We became friends. So she saw me write in it. At least when we traveled. At the hotel."
"Did she read it?"
"No." She looked around the table. "I didn't give it to her to read."
"Do you trust her?"
"Well, yes, I did. When I was there, in Europe, we spent a lot of time together, talking, having fun, exploring. Everyone else was so far away, in a different time zone. She helped me through being homesick, insecure. She listened, gave me advice, was always there for me, right to the end."
"Have you stayed in touch?"
"No." Amy replied, her tone tinged with disappointment.
"Do you still trust her?"
"I don't know anymore. I've asked the RCMP to track her. She's in Rome right now."
"Good to know. Did she work for you or Ahmed? In other words, did you pay her salary?"
"No. I didn't pay her salary. But she did things for me. She did my laundry, cleaned my apartment, packed for me, made arrangements, got dinner, shopped. But it was more than that. We ate dinner and breakfast together almost every day. We traveled together, explored Paris, Rome, Sienna together. We did girl things together. Like manicures. She bought me all sorts of clothes, shoes, sandals, um..." Amy closed her eyes briefly.
Summer jotted it down.
"Did she have access to your apartment? When you weren't there?"
"Yes. She had a key to my apartment." Amy admitted with the realization. "So I guess she could have read it." She began fidgeting with the edge of the table. "I should have kept it with me."
"It's okay Amy. We are just gathering information. There is no right or wrong here." Summer tried to reassure her.
"Did you give her the key?" Erica asked.
"No." Amy wondered. "Will you depose her too?"
"We will subpoena her. Yes. But, if she is in another country, we can't compel her to appear for deposition. So, it depends on her really. If she still works for Ahmed, he likely would not allow her to be deposed. But we'll see." Erica corrected her gently.
"Oh." Amy said quietly.
Summer touched her hand, tried to reassure her. "Look. Don't worry about that."
"Okay."
"I am going move on. Who is Syed?" Erica asked.
"Syed Kalb was my driver. He picked me up every morning for work, waited until I was done, then took me home. When we went to dinner, or other events, he drove me."
"Did he know about your journal?"
"No. I didn't tell him about my journal. And. I don't believe he knew about my journal or read it."
"Okay. Do you trust him?"
"Yes. I did when I was in Europe. We talked during our drives to and from work, various events. We talked a lot about our families, being homesick, food, music, travel, Saudi Arabia, Canada. We talked missing our family. Being away." She added. "He was very kind, polite."
"Have you stayed in touch?"
"He is here. Well, he's in Hudson. I saw him at a gas station last week near Hudson. He is staying at Hillhurst, an equestrian facility. And, I saw him at the Polo Club in Okotoks on Saturday. Only he seemed really different, more formal, pushy, persistent."
"What did he want? What was he persistent about?" Charles jumped in.
"Apparently Ahmed wanted to buy the horse I was working with. I said No. So he kept raising his offer. The RCMP followed him to Hillhurst. They said he wasn't breaking any laws."
"They?"
"Yeah. There was another guy. Paul Eisner. A photographer. He took pictures in Falaise at the Chateau at the party after we won. He was at the airport and at the Polo Club. But, I didn't talk to him."
"Are you afraid of them?" Summer asked.
"No. We put those orders of protection in place the next day. But, obviously Syed is still working for Ahmed, watching me, reporting back to Ahmed. But, I am not scared." Amy put on a tough exterior.
"Well. Tell us if he contacts you again."
"I will."
"Did he work for you or Ahmed."
"Ahmed."
"So. In Europe. Did he have a key to your apartment?" Erica asked.
Amy's brow wrinkled. "No. Not that I know."
"We'll want to talk with him."
"If he is in the country and he gets a subpoena, does he had to appear for a deposition?"
"Yes." Erica smiled at Amy's question. "But, sometimes there are extenuating circumstances."
"Tell me about Dr. Antar?" Erica continued.
"Cairo Antar. He was the team veterinarian. He was excellent, hard working. Very caring and thorough with the horses."
"Did he know about your journal?"
"No. Not that I know."
"Trust him?"
"Yes. Our relationship was purely work related. I trusted him to do the best possible for the horses."
"Did he work for Ahmed?"
"Yes."
"Have you kept in touch with him?"
"No."
"Do you still trust him?"
"Yes."
"Did he have access to your apartment?"
"No. Not that I know."
"Okay. How about Calla?"
"Calla Toma. She was my training assistant at work. She didn't know about my journal. She didn't join us until the end of the tour. I trusted her. Again our relationship was purely work related. I haven't heard from her since the tour. She worked for Ahmed. She did not have a key to my apartment as far as I know."
"You are getting ahead of me."
"Sorry."
"No worries. So, how about the riders? Aside from Ahmed. What were their names?"
"Omar Singh, Hassan Raza, Jamal As, and Malik Hadad. As far as I know. They didn't know about my journal. Or at least not to my knowledge. I trusted them. I haven't heard from them since the tour. They all worked for Ahmed. They did not have a key to my apartment as far as I know."
"Any others?"
"You mean that I worked with?"
"Yes."
"I don't know their last names. There was Saad. He was the residence manager. John was the farrier. Oh. And Faheem was my driver for a week." Amy paused, then added. "Again, I do not think they knew I had a journal. I didn't see them all that much."
"You mentioned security."
Amy stiffened. "Um. I don't know all of them or even their last names. But, there was Abbott, Feisal, Hussain and Bahar.." her voice was shaky.
"Okay. Did they know about your journal?"
Amy looked across the room at the painting, the young bird nestled next to the mom bird. She shrugged her shoulders.
"I can't say whether they knew about my journal or if they read it. But they seemed to know everything, be everywhere. And, camera and surveillance equipment was everywhere. And, no, I didn't trust them." Amy tried to remain calm, unemotional but her voice cracked anyhow.
"Did something happen?" Summer asked.
"They watched me. They spied on me. They intercepted at least one of my texts to Ty."
"How do you know that?"
"Abbott had a picture that I sent to Ty on his phone. It was his screensaver. I saw it."
"That must have been unsettling." Summer reached over, held her hand. Amy glanced at her, then looked away.
"Unsettling? It was horrible, upsetting, scary, embarrassing. I felt so invaded. They had my picture." She said quietly.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Summer asked just as quietly, leaning toward her.
"Not really. Honestly. I just want to forget it. Then and now. To pretend it didn't happen, to pretend it was really nothing. Back then. I really had no choice. I was under contract. I had to do my job."
"Amy. Did you send this picture on company equipment or your own phone?" Jane asked.
"My own phone."
"Did you send it at work or on your own time?"
"At night." Tears filled her eyes. "I shouldn't have done it. It's my fault."
"Amy. Listen to me. You did not cause anything. They stole something private from you. They broke the law."
"I took that picture, that selfie. I shouldn't have. I sent it in a text."
"Let me ask you give you a scenario." Jane suggested. "An owner of a jeweler store sells beautiful, expensive jewelry. The owner puts an exquisite 10 carat diamond ring on display in a glass case in the window of his store. His intention is to market it, to sell it for its full value to a customer who can afford to buy it. Okay?"
"Okay." Amy listened.
"So, let's say, somebody steals it. Did the jewelry store owner cause it to be stolen? Was it his fault."
"No. I don't think so."
"Right. His intention was to sell it. His intention was not for it to be stolen. The jewelry store owner is not at fault." Jane added. "Let me give you another scenario. Your grandfather has his cattle out in his pasture for all to see. Someone opens the gate, steals the cattle. Is that his fault?"
"No. It's cattle wrestling." She replied.
"Right. It's not his fault that someone broke the law." She continued. "Your intention was for your fiancé to receive a picture of you. From your private phone to his. On your time away from work. Your intention was not for it to be stolen. This is not your fault. No more than it is the jewelry store owner's fault that it was robbed. No more than your grandfather's fault that his cattle was stolen...Okay?"
She nodded, swallowed, took a deep breath.
There was a knock at the door. The receptionist opened the door slightly, motioned to Summer.
"Excuse me for a moment." Summer left the room, closed a door. A few moments later, she returned.
"It appears that we have a visitor. Or rather, Amy has a visitor." Summer looked to Amy. "Amy. Mr. Ty Borden is here. He'd wanted you to have this note."
She was surprised. She opened the note, read it silently.
"Ames. Class cancelled. In your truck with Ruth studying. No matter what, you got this. Just tell your truth. Take your time. Ty.
Ps
Q. Why won't sharks attack lawyers?
A: Professional courtesy. "
She laughed out loud.
"Everything good?" Summer asked.
"Yes." Amy turned pink with embarrassment.
"Let's try to finish up then. So you can get some lunch. Okay?"
Amy nodded, feeling lighter.
"Good. Did security have a key to your apartment?"
"No. Not that I know. But I supposed they could have. I never thought about it. Until now."
"How about Ahmed? Did he know about the journal?"
"Again. Not that I know of. But that really doesn't mean much."
"Do you trust him?"
"I trusted him for most of the tour. He was a good boss, polite, encouraging, complimentary. He paid me well. But looking back, my trust was misplaced. I certainly don't trust him now."
"Completely understandable."
"Did he have a key to your apartment?"
"No. Not that I know."
"Have you been in touch with him?"
"Not recently. But when I first got back from Europe, he called and texted frequently. He sent me gifts, a horse, a truck, jumping equipment. Then he came back to Hudson. Then it got out of control." Amy was getting flustered, upset, talking fast, again.
"Amy. It's okay." Summer tried to sooth her. "Take a breath honey."
Amy nodded, inhaled deeply, exhaled.
"Do you want to take a break?"
"No." She was adamant. "Let's finish."
"Only a few more questions, okay?" Erica offered. "Do know, is he in country?"
"RCMP told me that he is in Europe, Antwerp. But, he moves a lot."
"Okay. We will check into it."
"Outside of work, did you ever leave your apartment on your own? Without being accompanied by someone like Adela, Ahmed or Syed?"
"Not really. A time or two, I took a walk in Falaise. But I didn't have a vehicle of my own, well except a horse. Sometimes I rode a horse on my own." She paused. "But, if I did get out on my own, generally someone either Syed or Ahmed would somehow find me."
"It's pretty clear that they kept close tabs on you. People don't realize that employers are legally allowed to track their employees during work. Issues arise when they cross the line into harassment or their employees' private lives." Charles said.
"Oh. I guess I didn't realize that that employers can do that at work."
"Yes. Punching into time clock, security cameras, loss prevention programs. Employers want to ensure that their employees are productive, not stealing resources. And our laws support that... to a point." He explained.
"Hmmm. I guess you learn something new every day." Amy said.
"Amy. We believe that your employer crossed the line. Repeatedly. You have a solid case." Charles reassured her.
"I agree. And, I suspect that your journal is going to be extremely important component." Summer explained. "We appreciate you trusting us with it."
Summer looked around the table. "Does anyone else have questions for Amy?" Everyone shook their head No.
Summer put the cap on her pen. "Well, I for one, need to read your journal before I ask more questions." Summer asked. "Are you still willing to submit your journal for evidence?"
"Yes." Without hesitation, she handed her journal to Summer.
"Excellent. Alasie will provide you with papers to sign and information about how we handle such important information."
"Amy. Do you have any questions?"
"Well. Not really a question. I was thinking about my family. And, what you said about needing support. Things aren't great with them right now. I was actually planning to move out."
"You mentioned that yesterday. Is your move imminent?" Summer asked.
"It was but I am reconsidering. Especially given this suit...Do you think it would help if they read my journal? Maybe just my grandfather? Or my sister?"
"Honesty is the best policy. Always. Especially if you are looking for their support. But, without reading your journal, it's hard to advise." Summer replied. "Only you can answer that question."
"Okay. I will give it more thought."
"And Amy. I am glad that you are reevaluating whether to move out. This suit is not going to be a cake walk. Proximity to loved ones, your support system will help."
Amy nodded.
Alaise handed her three forms. "Hi Amy. Review each form, sign and date on the bottom."
As Amy was signing, Alaise cleared her throat. "I will make you a copy of your journal Amy. If you want, you can pick up tomorrow. You can just keep it for your records. Or share it with your family."
"Thank you Alasie. That's very thoughtful."
Alasie whispered. "My last name is Snow...just like your horse in France."
"And you are just as pretty." Amy said honestly.
Alasie blushed.
Finished signing the papers, Amy stood up, turned to the group. "Thank you everyone. I am grateful to you all and your time."
Outside in the fresh air, Amy spied Ty sitting in the driver's seat of her truck, a book propped up against the steering wheel. He was fast asleep.
She opened the passenger side door, climbed in, kissed him on the cheek, waking him.
"Hey." He said, eyes barely open. "What was that for?"
"Your note. It made me laugh." She giggled.
"Mission accomplished." His eyes danced.
She laughed. "Be honest. Was your class really cancelled?"
"Yes thankfully! I was late, but there was a note on the door canceling the class."
"Lucky Dog! Sorry I made you late."
"No harm, no foul."
"So...are you hungry? I'm starved."
"Of course you are, Horsey Girl! Scrub's? It's on campus. Or want to head toward Okotoks?"
"Definitely Scrub's."
Ty put the truck in gear, backed out and headed toward the Vet School. "How was it?"
She shrugged. "It was okay. We mostly talked about my journal, who knows about it, who read it. Um. They may subpoena you."
"Oh. You sound so lawyerly. But, okay. When?"
"Not sure. Sounds like they will subpoena everyone involved, the team, Adela, security, the family."
"That makes sense."
"Even dad."
"Oh boy."
"I know, right?"
Amy got a pensive look. "What?" Ty asked.
"Do you think grandpa and Lou should read my journal?"
"Might be good. I really had no idea what it was like for you over there. Until I read it." He paused. "What do you think?"
"Not sure. I'm afraid what they will think of me texting you that picture of me in skivvies."
"I love that picture. It's a beautiful." He glanced at her. "Really. It's no different than you in a bathing suit." He patted her knee.
"I guess. Except I don't wear a bikini." She shrugged as she hopped out of the parked truck, Ruth in her arms, headed into Scruggs.
Amy settled into a table next to a large window facing the court yard, while Ty ordered club sandwiches and waters at the counter.
Putting their lunch on the table, he took his seat across from her.
"Hey. I ran into Dr. Johnson. Literally. He was still on cloud nine after your presentation. Anyhow. He offered me the position at the vet school clinic."
"Oh Ty! That's great. Congratulations!! ...And..?"
"I may regret it but I accepted. I start Friday night. I move into the apartment this weekend."
"Wow! I am so proud of you. What made you decide?"
"Well. It's actually a vet assistant position. I'll work in the clinic with animals, with vets, doing procedures, assisting in surgeries."
"And, Dr. Punctuality?"
"Yeah. He will be my boss." He grinned. "Like I said, I might regret it."
"What about finals?"
"There is some flexibility and I can study at the clinic. Kinda like at Scott's clinic. The good thing is I will save a couple of hours a day driving back and forth from Hudson."
"That's good. Did you see the apartment?
"Yeah. It's small, but bigger than the trailer. But more importantly, it has electricity and water.
"Perfect. What about Harley?"
"I can stable him there. But, I am thinking if I left him at Heartland, I'd have a reason to visit."
"Grandpa would kill you if you didn't visit him regularly." She said teased. "Harley or not."
"Yeah. He's probably gonna kick me all the way to Montana when he finds out I am quitting."
"I think he'll be thrilled that you got a vet job."
"Maybe. Hey. Are you still planning on moving to Okotoks?"
"I don't know. Summer thought I should reconsider moving. She said I am going to need a support system."
"Well. That makes sense. So are we going to the Polo Club after lunch?"
"Yes. I need to go. But we? Are you done for the day?"
Before he could answer, Amit and Kurt from his study group join them.
"Hey Ms. Fleming, Mr. Borden. Mind if we join you? Or are you too cool for us now?" Amit asked sarcastically.
Amy laughed. "Hello Amit and Kurt. Please join us."
"Amy. Nice talk today. Dr. Johnson was very happy that you joined the class."
"Happy? I saw him skipping down the sidewalk, his feet didn't touch the ground. He had this goofy grin on his face." Ty said. "I ran right into him."
They all laughed, talking, enjoying getting to know each other.
Ruth started to whimper and cry to be fed.
"Amy. Could I hold her and feed her?" Amit asked.
"Absolutely. She will love that. Plus, my left arm is numb from holding her." Amy said as she passed the pup and pup bag with a bottle and tissues.
"Hello Notorious RBG!" He laughed as he rubbed the nipple across her pink tongue until she closed her mouth, sucking and slurping heartily.
"So I hear that Ty will be working at the vet clinic? Is that punishment for being late today?" Amit asked.
Ty smirked. "I sure hope it's not punishment. But dang, news travels fast."
"Hmf. So you are shirking the opportunity to come to India with me? My feelings are hurt, my friend."
"Amit. I would love to go, see India, meet your dad, hang with you doing surgeries day and night." Ty sighed. "But, I really can't afford it, man."
"Amit. We need to work on him. I think it would be an opportunity of a lifetime for Ty."
"I agree Amy. You could come too. You could work on the horses. Domesticated and wild."
"I would love that."
"Okay. It's done. I will make all the arrangements."
"Amit. I really can't." Ty complained.
"Amy. Give me your phone number. We will work magic together." He grinned as Amy typed her contact information into his phone.
When she was finished, he texted his contact info. "Call my number Amy. Just to check."
"Well okay." She dialed his his number and his phone started playing the chorus to "Wild Horses" by the Rolling Stones, making everyone laugh.
"That's awesome Amit." Ty chuckled.
Amy glanced at her watch. "Well, I hate to leave great company but..."Wild, Wild Horses are dragging me away!" She started to sing.
On the drive back to Heartland, Ty looked at Amy behind the wheel. She was concentrating, he could almost see the wheels turning in her head.
"So. What's your plan?" He asked.
"Who says I have a plan?"
"Of course, you have a plan!"
She smiled at him. "Okay I do."
Dear Readers.
Hope you enjoy this long, long chapter. Send a review. Tell me what you think.
SBR