The Judge. Jan Hudson

had a baby not too long ago.”

      “You’re all doing great,” Mary Beth said. “Remember that I said you should go at your own pace. You should have taken a break, Carrie.”

      She chuckled. “What can I tell you? I’m a high achiever. I’m going to drag myself to my room and take a shower.”

      “Have you had dinner?” Mary Beth asked.

      “No, but I picked up something to nuke later.”

      “Why don’t you join Ellen, Dixie and me at the tearoom for a light supper? It’s only leftovers, but we’d love to have you.”

      Carrie laughed. “I’m a bit odoriferous for a social occasion.”

      “Oh, piddle,” Dixie said with a dismissing wave. “We’ve all been sweating like pigs. Forget about it and come on. Mary Beth has saved us some chocolate cake.”

      “Chocolate? How can I resist? That stuff is sinful.”

      The four of them trudged over to the tearoom. Or rather, three of them trudged. Mary Beth still had a spring in her step.

      They spent a leisurely hour over their simple meal, and Carrie thoroughly enjoyed getting to know the women, making girl-talk. Her job kept her on the road so much that she didn’t have much time to spend with friends, especially female friends. In fact, now that she thought about it, she didn’t have very many women friends left. Their lives had taken them in different directions, and she hadn’t taken the time to cultivate new friendships to fill the void.

      Dixie was the first to rise. “I’ve got to get a move on or Jack will be sending out a posse,” she said. “Great to meet you, Carrie. I hope you’ll join us for as long as you’re in town.”

      “Me, too,” Ellen said. “Nobody will be sending out a posse for me, but I know my sitter would like to get home early, and I’m riding with Dixie.”

      After the two left, Carrie helped carry the dishes into the kitchen. “This was really fun,” she said. “Thanks for inviting me.”

      “We enjoyed having you,” Mary Beth said. “Listen, if you’re going to be around tomorrow night and don’t have plans, why don’t you go to the football game with us? Then, watching high school football may not be your idea of a scintillating evening.”

      “Lord, I haven’t been to a football game in ages.”

      “We have a winning team this year, and everybody in town will be there. It’s the only Friday night entertainment around here. Go with us. We’ll have hot dogs and peanuts, and root for the Mustangs.”

      “With you and Dixie and Ellen?”

      “No, with J.J., Katy and me. I insist. Be ready about six-thirty. Wear jeans and bring a jacket.”

      Carrie tried to weasel out of the invitation, but Mary Beth wouldn’t take no for an answer.

      What the heck. She didn’t have anything better to do, and sitting around a hotel room alone with only a TV for company got very old very quickly.

      “You’re on,” Carrie said. “Shall I bring my pompoms?”

      Chapter Five

      J.J. walked ahead and carried Katy while Mary Beth and Carrie brought along the stadium seats. As they moved with the crowd to the bleachers, smells of popcorn, peanuts and fall in the air brought a wave of sweet nostalgia. The band was playing, and the team ran around the field warming up. Excitement was in the air, and it was catching. Carrie felt a zing run through her, and a grin spread over her face.

      “This brings back a lot of memories,” Carrie said.

      “Doesn’t it? Where did you go to high school?”

      “Cypress-Fairbanks. It’s a suburb of Houston. Those were some of the happiest days of my life.”

      But those days hadn’t started out happy, she recalled. Carrie had felt alone and abandoned when her mother had dumped her with Uncle Tuck when Carrie was barely fourteen. Amanda’s soon-to-be husband was a mining engineer.

      “Darling,” Amanda had told her, “Richard and I will be traveling to all sorts of remote places, and I want you to have proper schooling. They have wonderful schools in Cy-Fair, and you’ll get a good background for college. It breaks my heart to leave you, but I’ll visit often.”

      She hadn’t. Despite the teary-eyed hugs and kisses and promises, Amanda hadn’t shown up for two years. With Amanda, out of sight was out of mind. Carrie always suspected that one of the reasons her mother had ditched her was that Richard didn’t want a teenager around.

      Tucker Campbell, her father’s older brother, was an independent oilman and a widower with a sixteen-year-old son, Sam. Uncle Tuck didn’t know what to do with a teenage girl, either, but he had a heart as big as Texas and was game to try. She adored Sam and Uncle Tuck and loved living on the ranch with a horse of her own and making new friends at the high school where Sam paved the way for her.

      Her school’s stadium, the one where she’d cheered her football player cousin, was very much like this one, she thought as she followed J.J. and Mary Beth up the stairs.

      When they reached a spot on the fifty-yard line about halfway up the bleachers, J.J. said, “Here we are, Katy-bug,” and put the child down. “You’re going to have to go on a diet. You’re getting heavy.”

      Katy giggled. “You always say that.”

      “I do? I’ll have to think up a new line.” He smiled and tapped her nose gently. “And you’re not fat. You’re just right.”

      The little girl beamed. “I want a hot dog.”

      “Already?” J.J. asked as he set up the stadium seats on the weathered wood bleachers.

      Katy nodded and took a seat between Mary Beth and J.J. Carrie sat on the end next to Mary Beth.

      “Let me catch my breath,” J.J. said, “and I’ll do a concession run. What do you ladies want?”

      He took orders for hot dogs, drinks, popcorn and peanuts.

      “How are you going to carry all that?” Carrie asked. “Want me to go and help?”

      “Naw, I’m resourceful. I can handle it.”

      “It’s a man thing,” Mary Beth said as his boots clattered down the wooden steps.

      Carrie smiled. “I understand macho.” And she did. From the time she was fourteen, she’d learned how to navigate in a male world. That background had served her well in her studies and her work.

      Mary Beth waved at someone and Carrie turned to look. Frank was making his way toward them with a pair of dark-haired children about Katy’s size. His twins, she surmised. This was the first time she’d seen him in anything other than business clothes. He had on well-worn jeans and a plaid western shirt under his jean jacket. He wore black boots and a black cowboy hat that looked to be the twin of the one J.J. always wore. And he looked darned good in his cowboy duds.

      Darned good.

      “Well, hello,” he said to her, smiling broadly. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

      “And I’m surprised to see you, Judge.”

      “Our family has season tickets for this whole row. Have had for years. We’re all big Mustang fans.” He took three stadium seats from a large canvas bag he carried and started setting them up. “Carrie, this is my daughter Janey and my son Jimmy. Kids, say hello to Miss Carrie.”

      They both said a shy hello, then Janey tugged on Frank’s pant leg and whispered, “I want to sit by Katy.”

      “Do you mind?” Frank asked Carrie.

      “Not at all.” Carrie rose to change