plate. Mister had said plenty of things over the years about how Judge ruined perfectly good eggs by putting ketchup on them.
He washed the red stuff down the drain and bent to put his plate in the dishwasher. He noted that Mister had not done that with his dishes that morning, and another dose of annoyance washed through him.
“Is June coming to Ward’s wedding with you?” Mister asked, the chair scraping as he pulled it out from under the table. He sat in it with a big sigh. “I don’t want to be the only one at the wedding without a date.”
“I honestly don’t know,” Judge said, his mood only worsening with this topic of conversation. His relationship with June over the months could barely be categorized as such. She’d been called back to her house by her daughter and the police on their date after Christmas.
She hadn’t been able to come to the impromptu New Year’s Eve party they’d held at Shiloh Ridge Ranch, due to some previous plans she’d made with friends.
Judge hadn’t given up there, but he probably should have. Days bled by, turning into weeks, and months, and while he sometimes talked to June on the phone, and they texted fairly regularly, he’d only seen her a few times.
He wasn’t even sure he’d call running into her at the diner a date.
He’d asked her out a few times. She’d said yes. They’d made plans.
Something always came up—and not just on her end, so Judge didn’t believe she was putting him off.
Lucy Mae had a band concert she hadn’t put on the calendar. Judge had six calves born in the same day, so there was no way he could leave the ranch. June’s car got hit in the parking lot, and she needed to take it to the body shop. Bear had called a family meeting after church, and Judge couldn’t miss it. June had a massive system failure at her office in Oklahoma City, and she’d had to leave immediately to go fix it.
The list went on and on for what had gotten in the way of him taking her to dinner, going to her house after church, or the two of them simply getting together.
He was starting to think the Lord simply didn’t want him to be with June. He’d backed off on texting and calling, and she hadn’t made much effort to reach out to him either.
“Have you asked her to attend with you?” Mister pressed.
Judge cast him a glare, but the other man was staring at his phone. Probably looking through the long list of women’s numbers he owned, trying to find someone he could ask to Ward’s wedding. “Not exactly.”
“Why not?” Mister looked up.
Judge turned back to the sink with a sigh. “Because, Mister, if I don’t ask, then she can’t tell me yes and then cancel later.”
“At least she tells you yes,” Mister grumbled as Judge picked up a butter knife. He contemplated stabbing it through his own eye, but just held it under the hot water and let the mayo melt off of it. He put it in the dishwasher as Mister continued, “Libby still refuses to tell me anything else about why she doesn’t believe I like her. I’ve asked her out a couple of times, and she just says no.”
“Maybe it’s time to move on,” Judge said, and he was telling himself as well as Mister.
“I don’t want to move on.”
“We don’t always get what we want.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Mister said sarcastically.
“At least I don’t,” Judge said as if Mister hadn’t even spoken. His chest vibrated in a strange way, and something told him not to say another word. “You seem to though.”
The chair scraped again as Mister stood. “What does that mean?” He came closer to Judge, who twisted away from him to put a rinsed plate in the dishwasher. Probably Mister’s, but who was keeping track?
Judge was, that was who.
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Yes, it does,” Mister said. “If you have something to say, just say it.”
Judge paused, cocked his head to the side, and flew backward in time to another argument they’d had. He’d lost his temper; Mister had too. Cruel things were said. Judge wasn’t going to do that again.
“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “I shouldn’t have said that.” He met Mister’s eye, noting the darkness and unhappiness there. His heart ached for his brother, because Judge knew what bitter feelings came with unhappiness. He and Preacher had talked about how to help Mister, but they’d