said. “I’m with Preacher and Mister, and Preacher’s fiancée.” He leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. “Mister said he’d make bacon, cheese, and egg kolaches this morning, so I was just playing around with something on the computer.”
“Yeah, I know what you were playing around with,” June teased. She’d been out to the ranch over the summer too, to help him upgrade his network. She was brilliant with routers and WLANs and all kinds of other things Judge could’ve figured out if he cared to. He didn’t. He’d rather call June and have her come help him.
Judge chuckled, though neither of them said he’d been messing with his light show. “I saw your post about Lucy Mae,” he said, wondering what would come out of his mouth next. He did a lot by feel, based on his mood, and liked being spontaneous. He also liked to have a plan, especially when it came to June. “That’s so great for her.”
June laughed again and said, “I’m so proud of her. She’s worked so hard.”
“I know she has.”
“I didn’t put this online,” June said, gushing now. “But she got accepted into this summer internship for the engineering school at UT-Austin, and I’m just dying for her to accept.”
“She hasn’t yet?” Judge asked, hoping June would keep talking. She had the kind of voice that made him happy, and he simply liked listening to her.
“She’s waiting on a couple of other things she applied to,” June said.
“Well, tell her congratulations from me,” he said.
“I will.”
The conversation stalled, and Judge’s pulse jumped up into his throat. “Did your parents come into town?”
“They tried,” she said. “But Amarillo grounded all their flights yesterday morning, before the storm. So they didn’t make it.”
“That’s too bad.”
“It’s just me and Lucy Mae,” she said. “We’re going to video call my parents and my sister at nine.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” he said.
“What about you Glovers?” she asked.
“We’re all spread out,” Judge said. “We were about to do our gift exchange when Ida—you remember my cousin Ida? She lives in town?”
“Yes, Ida,” June said. “I think everyone knows Ida Glover.”
“Do they?” Judge asked, interested to know why that was. Ida and Etta did a lot of community outreach programs through the ranch, but usually through the schools.
“Seem to,” June said. “Lucy Mae knows her and Etta because they come talk to the students. She said Ida is real funny.”
“Funnier than Etta—I can see that,” Judge said. Etta definitely liked rich things and she was more refined than her twin. She wasn’t stuffy, but Judge could see how she might come across that way. “She’s changed a lot in the past several months, actually,” he said, suddenly feeling protective of Etta and her scarred heart.
“They’re both very nice,” June said diplomatically. “Anyway, Ida did something?”
“Oh, right.” Judge centered his thoughts. “She lives in town, and the rest of us were up here. We can’t hear the sirens up here. We usually get a text—you know like one of those Amber alert type of texts that buzzes at you?—about ten or fifteen minutes after the sirens go off. But Ida texted to say the sirens were going off and the town had issued a major wind warning. So we split up.”
“So you’re at the Ranch House.”
“Yes, ma’am. Everyone went to their own houses. We figured that would be better than trying to find beds and food for everyone at the homestead.”
“Smart,” June said. “I just checked the weather, and they keep extending the warning. Originally, it was only supposed to go until nine a.m. this morning, but now it’s nine p.m.”
“It certainly hasn’t let up here,” Judge said, realizing with horrifying clarity that he and June were talking about the weather.
The weather.
He wanted to hang up and cut out his own tongue. The windows rattled at him, as if telling him not to say another word about the wind.
“Here either,” she said.
“Maybe when it does let up, we could….” Judge slowed down, wishing he hadn’t started the sentence. He didn’t know how to finish it.
“Go to dinner?” June supplied.
“Or lunch,” he said. “Or even breakfast. I know you sometimes go really late on your appointments, but you rarely go out early.”
“You know what, Judge?”
He couldn’t tell what tone she’d used. Was she being sarcastic? Inquisitive? Kind? Was she going to tell him never to call her again and to please stop asking her out when she’d made her wishes known?
“What?” he asked.
“I’d like to go to