The Delivery of Decor (Shiloh Ridge Ranch in Three Rivers #7) - Liz Isaacson Page 0,109

know what a liar she was. “Excuse me.”

She marched away from him, from her sister, from the party. She burst into the night, the air cold and crisp. It burned her throat and lungs as it entered them, and she gulped at it, needing more and more and more.

The door banged closed behind her, and she flinched away from the sound of it. “I’m sorry,” she said to the sky above. “Please forgive me for lying.” Then she ran toward the corner of the building just in case Mister followed her and demanded she tell him the truth.

“Thanks, Judge,” she said forty minutes later. Mildred got out of the back seat of Judge’s truck, but Libby needed one more minute with him. Mildred seemed to know something major had happened, and Libby would have to answer a bunch of questions once they were alone.

She didn’t care about that. She could handle her sister, who was sometimes even more clueless than Libby herself.

“I won’t say anything to Mister,” Judge said.

“You live with him,” Libby said. “I know you two haven’t always gotten along, and I don’t want to be the thing that comes between you again.” She reached over and put her hand on his. “I’m sorry if I’ve put you in an awkward place.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I can handle Mister.” He’d been standing outside, hugging the front corner of the barn as Libby had come around the back one. Apparently, June had canceled on him last-minute, and he couldn’t stand to go into the party alone.

She’d asked him for a ride home, and if he could please go inside and tell Mildred to get a ride with one of their brothers. They’d both come to the party with their wives and kids, and surely they’d have one more seat for her. But Mildred had opted to just go home with Libby, so they’d both gotten a ride with Judge.

It was barely ten o’clock, and at this rate, Libby would be in bed when the New Year’s bell rang. She didn’t care. She didn’t understand New Year’s Eve anyway.

“If it’s a problem, you tell him to come talk to me again.” She looked at Judge. “Okay?”

“You don’t have to tell me, but what happened? He likes you so much.”

She shook her head. “No, he doesn’t. He likes the idea of a woman liking him. He likes the idea of having a girlfriend who has this big crush on him.” She shook her head, aware that her voice had turned hard again. “He doesn’t like me, Judge. He never has.”

“I think you’re wrong. I’ve seen him over the past six months. He’s miserable trying to get your attention.”

“We’ll agree to disagree.” Libby unbuckled her seatbelt and looked at him again. “Thanks again for the ride. I apologize in advance for any trouble it might cause you.” With that, she opened the door and got out of the truck. Judge said nothing, but Libby had been prepared to slam the door if he had.

She went up the steps and into the house, where Mildred had started the electric kettle and then probably gone to change. They’d talked of watching Little Women when they got home, and Libby hurried through the living room and kitchen to the hallway too. Her bedroom sat just off the main part of the house, and she ducked inside without having to face her sister.

She’d changed out of her party dress and into her silk pajamas before her phone chimed. She knew exactly who it would be, and she rolled her neck and gave an exaggerated sigh.

Mister never knew when to stop. Never. It was why he’d broken his femur—the injury that had ended his rodeo career. It was why they’d argued in front of everyone the other morning. It was why he and Judge hadn’t gotten along for years.

It was why the text she’d find on her phone would be from him.

Sighing, she picked up her device and read his message. She sucked in a breath at the same time Mildred opened the door. “You ready, Libs? I’ve already got the lime popcorn popping, and I found some of that Mexican hot chocolate mix in the cupboard.” She beamed like this Old Maids party between the two of them was better than what was happening at Shiloh Ridge Ranch, in that beautiful, remodeled barn that housed all their family parties.

“Yeah,” Libby said, silencing her phone and placing it face-down on her nightstand. “I’m ready.” She left the