Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
M ister Glover woke to the sound of someone yelling. He groaned and rolled over, realizing the sun had already started its golden ascent into the sky. This week in Texas had spoiled him, and he wasn’t looking forward to the drive back to Winterhaven that day.
Preacher, Ward, and Bishop had insisted on throwing a huge send-off party the night before, and Mister had been out far too late. He’d danced with every ranch wife, and any other woman who’d come to the party—including Liberty Bellamore.
His blood still simmered with desire for her, but he’d learned how to tame it. Keep it stowed neatly in a box where only he could see it, feel it, and taste it. He’d twirled her around the dance floor the way he always had—carefree. They’d laughed and talked, and Mister could admit he liked a good party—with good food and a lot of chocolate—a whole bunch.
Judge yelled again, and Mister’s eyebrows drew down into a frown. The man wasn’t known for being the loudest Glover in the family, but he sure did have something to bellyache about this morning. “What?” he grumbled under his breath as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.
He paused there, because his head pounded and his mouth felt like he’d been chewing on cotton all night long. He hadn’t had anything to drink, as he wasn’t that kind of partier, but he supposed dancing used different muscles than ranching.
His shirt stuck to his skin, a thin layer of sweat binding them, and he tugged on it as he realized why Judge had bellowed to him twice now.
“Dear Lord,” he said, jumping to his feet. “Did he win the light show?” The Lord didn’t answer as Mister raced across the room and snatched open the door. “Judge!” A few strides later, he entered the office, where sure enough, his brother sat in the chair in front of the computer.
He had his phone at his ear, and he said, “…sure, that’s great. Totally great. Tell everyone!”
“Judge,” Mister said again, and the man swiveled toward him.
“I have to go. Mister’s here.” He hung up and jumped to his feet, pure joy radiating from him. He spread his arms wide, a clear invitation for Mister to hurry up and hug him, and he said, “I won! Somehow, last night, I edged ahead of the Cassidys. I don’t know how it happened, but it’s right there. I won the light show!”
Mister grabbed him in a hug and the two laughed like they’d just won the world instead of a small-town yard decoration award. There wasn’t even any money involved in the Christmas light show.
Judge exhaled and stepped back, peering down at the computer. “I’m in first place, right?”
Mister leaned one palm against the desk, bent down, and looked at the screen. Judge Glover sat in the first position under the heading Final Christmas Light Show Winners: Thanks for voting!
“You’re in first place,” Mister confirmed. He reached over and moved the mouse to the arrow wrapping around itself. He clicked to reload the website, and when it came back up—in less time that it took to breathe in, thanks to June’s stellar network—Judge still sat in first place.
“This is incredible,” Mister said, straightening. He couldn’t stop smiling, and he’d never been prouder of Judge. “Congratulations, Judge. You’ve worked so hard for this.”
In that moment, he realized why Judge looked close to tears. No, he wouldn’t get a check in the mail for winning. He wouldn’t get more than his name on that website. He wouldn’t get mobbed in the streets by people asking for his autograph.
What the win represented was years of hard work. Years of not giving up. Years of determination, dedication, and grit. Judge had tried different things over the years, but this year, he’d really been unique. He’d ignored all the conventional Christmas decorations, and he’d put his show online.
He’d found a way to get people up to the ranch without them having to make the drive.
“I have to call June,” he said, rushing out of the office.
“You haven’t called June?” Mister called after him. “Who were you on the phone with then?”
“Bear,” Judge called. “He called me, because he saw it before I did.”
Mister looked around the office, feeling a bit lost. Surely the family would have another big shindig to help Judge celebrate this win, and Mister didn’t want to miss it. He didn’t want to drive back to Oklahoma City and Winterhaven, the farm where he’d been working for over six months.
He was due back before six, though, and it took over four hours to make the drive. Maybe I can talk them into doing a luncheon , he thought as he also hurried out of the office and back into the bedroom.
Tell everyone , Judge had said.
Bear had probably texted on the family string, and Mister needed to make sure his voice got heard before he missed out.