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“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” June said.
“This is Juniper Nichols,” Judge said right before pressing his lips to her temple.
“When are you two getting married?” Momma asked.
“You know, we haven’t set a date yet.” Judge looked at her, and June looked up at him.
“We’re waiting for my dad to get his travel schedule for the spring and summer,” June said. “They live in California.”
Momma nodded, smiling at the couple. “Well, congratulations.”
“Thank you,” they said together, and Momma turned to the younger couple who’d tied the knot that day.
“Oh,” she said, turning back to Judge. She put one hand on his forearm, and he leaned down to hear her better. “I’ll pray for you to win the light show.”
“We’ll have to watch it and vote,” Gideon said, reaching Momma’s side after diving right into the fray of black-suited men.
“I would love that,” Judge said.
“Okay,” someone yelled, and it didn’t sound like one of her sons. Sure enough, Bishop Glover had gotten up on a chair and was waving both arms. “The bride and groom would like you to take your seats at a table. They’re going to serve lunch in five minutes.”
Momma put pressure on Gideon’s arm, and he got the silent message. “Oliver,” Momma called, and before her grandson could get swept away in the crowd again, she wanted to hug him. She wanted to tell him how proud she was of the man he’d become.
Thankfully, the Lord amplified her voice, and Oliver turned back to her. “Grandma.” He rushed toward her and wrapped her up in a hug.
She loved nothing more than a hug from one of her grandchildren, and a boy with a heart this gold made Momma extra grateful for him. She told him all the things she wanted to, and he stepped out of her arms and took his wife’s hand again.
“Okay,” he said, his voice only a little wobbly. He brushed his free hand across his face. “Let’s go, Rory. We’ve got people to feed.”
With that, he and Aurora walked into the kitchen in their formal wedding clothes and started bringing out plates of food. Momma marveled that they were serving the food at their own wedding, and she wasn’t the only one.
But Oliver and Aurora waved away all attempts to help, and Gideon took Momma to a couple of open spots at a table with Wyatt’s family. She reached for their youngest and cradled the little boy in her lap, gazing around at the beauty of combining two families into one.
Chapter Eight
Mister 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?”
