and find the things she wanted in her life.
Chapter Ten
Judge Glover sat in front of the desktop computer in his office, the dual screens brightening the room enough to see. The sun hadn’t quite come up yet, and the office faced northwest, which made the sunset more striking than the sunrise anyway.
The moment he’d gotten home last night, he’d powered down his light show. He couldn’t even imagine what mess he’d find once it was safe to go outside. His stomach knotted just thinking about what could be damaged. At the same time, it would be a very good reason to get all kinds of new things for next year’s show.
On the Three Rivers website, he was third for the Christmas light display, and familiar bitterness and disappointment cut through him. He should be glad for a top three placement, but the problem was, he could never get higher than that.
A lot of people didn’t make the journey out to Shiloh Ridge to see the show, and he’d considered doing something right down on the highway, closer to town. It wouldn’t be his house, though, and he’d need to have a piece of land he owned, could set up copious amounts of lights on, and get the best WiFi in the known universe so the show would run.
He’d need a laptop to code it all, because he certainly couldn’t be making changes on this computer, driving down the hill to watch the show, and then back to the Ranch House to tweak things.
And heavens above, Judge tweaked and tweaked and tweaked his Christmas light display show. Even once the voting had started, Judge made minuscule changes that probably only he’d notice. The perfectionist in him really wanted the show to be the best it could be. If someone left a comment in the voting bracket about his show, and he felt good about making the change, he did.
One year, he’d changed the color of lights that marched with the soldiers from red to blue, and he’d liked the show better.
Weariness ran through him now, because his creativity was starting to wane. He’d been designing, setting up, and programming the light show for sixteen years now. Sixteen. That was about fifteen too many not to have won yet.
The drive to win tasted like metal in the back of his throat, and every time he considered giving up, he’d be reminded of how far he’d come, how much he’d learned, and that next year could be the one.
He’d prayed to win for the past five years, and he was beginning to think the Lord simply didn’t care if he won or not. Of course He doesn’t, Judge thought. God had much bigger problems and the people of the world had much bigger cares than the piddly light show in Three Rivers, Texas.
At the same time, Judge had been taught from boyhood to pray to the Lord for what he wanted. Talk to God, and tell Him what he was grateful for. Ask for help. Listen for guidance. He’d been doing that for almost forty years, and the things he wanted still sat out of his reach.
He glanced at his phone, looking for a message from Etta. They’d become closer in the past six months, after Judge had followed a prompting he believed came from the Lord. He’d felt like he needed to get over to the homestead or call Etta and go to lunch with her for about a week before he’d done it.
They’d been texting, calling, and getting together at least once a week since, even if it was just sandwiches out in the office Etta used in one of the barns to run the school programs. They’d cried together. They’d laughed together. They’d told each other what they really wanted and asked one another why God seemed to be ignoring them.
Deep down, Judge knew the Lord wasn’t ignoring him. Sometimes there was no right or wrong. His desperation told him he either needed to try again with Juniper Nichols—really try—or he needed to move on.
With all of his brothers, sisters, and cousins finding lifelong partners, Judge didn’t want to be the only single Glover remaining. He already had to work so hard to get noticed, and he didn’t want the spotlight on him for being single when everyone else wasn’t.
He’d given up the practical jokes in the last year, and while he still made a big deal at family parties about being first in line, the joy of that had