The Judge

“I’ll have to buy a copy.”

She smiled, and Frank almost missed his mouth with his fork. He tried to think of something to say and drew a blank.

“What family are you researching?” J.J. asked between bites.

“I’m really not at liberty to say much about my business. Clients like to keep some things private.”

J.J. laughed. “Must be a horse thief or two in the clan.”

She smiled again, and the room seemed to grow brighter. “I have a couple of my own ancestors who were on the shady side. They’ve been expunged from the family bible. Speaking of shady characters, why in the world are you Outlaws named after outlaws?”

“It was my grandfather’s idea,” Frank said, relieved that finally he could contribute to the conversation. “He was a judge, too. He thought that having a memorable name would be an asset in both business and politics, so he named our father John Wesley Hardin and our uncle Butch Cassidy. I guess his idea worked. Our dad was undefeated for sheriff until he retired, and Uncle Butch was a state senator when he died.”

“And now the two of you are sheriff and judge. Undefeated?”

“So far,” J.J. said.

After Frank’s tongue got untangled, they talked about the history of the town and the old courthouse while they ate. Carrie seemed interested and asked all kinds of questions about the town and the county. He found himself growing very comfortable talking with her.

J.J. asked, “Where’s home for you, Carrie?”

“Houston.”

“Our oldest brother lives in Houston,” Frank told her. “He’s in homicide with H.P.D.”

“And his name is…”

“Cole Younger Outlaw,” J.J. supplied. “And our other brother is a Texas Ranger. Sam Bass Outlaw.”

“And our baby sister is with the FBI,” Frank said. “Belle Starr Outlaw.”

“Quite an impressive family,” Carrie said.

“We try.” J.J. polished off the last bite on his plate. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going into the kitchen to kiss the cook. Nice meeting you, Carrie.” He stood, bowed slightly and left.

She smiled. “I like your brother.”

“He’s a good guy. Do you like his brother, too?” Frank nearly groaned. Had he really said that?

“Of course. I’m glad you didn’t die.”

Her attention seemed to be on his hands, and he looked down to find that he was twirling his wedding ring round and round on his finger. “Me, too. My wife did, though.” God, that was awkward.

Carrie looked puzzled. “Did what?”

“Died. My wife was killed in a car wreck.”

She reached across the table and touched his hand. “I’m so sorry. When was this?”

“It’s been almost two years.” He shook his head to keep the memories from intruding. “How about dessert? Mary Beth makes a mean apple tart.”

“Sounds tempting, but if I eat another bite, I’ll nod off over the records this afternoon. I need to scoot.”

She took her wallet from her bag, but Frank waved her off. “My invitation, my treat.”

“Thanks. I’ll get the check next time.”

“It’s a deal.” He stood as she said her goodbyes, then watched her walk out the door. He liked Carrie Campbell. She was warm, open and easy to talk to. Plus she was a beautiful woman.

Behind him J.J. said, “Beautiful woman.”

“Is she? I hadn’t noticed.”

J.J. hooted. “You’re lying and your feet stink!”

Frank tried to suppress a grin. “She is easy on the eyes. But don’t make more out of this than it is.”

“Me? I’m not making anything out of it? When are you going to see her again?”

“I don’t know. Want some dessert?”

“You buying?” J.J. asked.

“I bought breakfast, you mooch.”

“Say, Mary Beth and I are going over to Travis Lake Saturday night to see a musical that the college is putting on. Why don’t you ask Carrie, and go with us?”

“I doubt that she’ll even be here then.”

“Sure she will. Mary Beth said her reservation is for several weeks. Ask her. Get out and enjoy yourself, Frank. It’s time.”

He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’ll think about it.”

Chapter Three

Keeping her identity secret was turning out to be a problem, Carrie thought as she hurried to her room after lunch. She’d been squirming as she’d sat there with a sheriff and a judge trying to walk a fine line between sidestepping the truth and telling a blatant lie. While she’d been very careful not to actually lie to them, neither had she said anything to correct the impression that the old man had made about her being a genealogist. In fact, she could have kissed the old codger for getting her off the hook. She hoped she wasn’t getting herself into a huge mess by her evasions. It was one thing to misrepresent herself to townspeople and quite another to mislead officers of the law.

Maybe she needed to do a little genealogical research on the side to keep herself honest. Had any of her ancestors come from this area of Texas? Seems as if there might have been a great-great-uncle on her father’s side whose first wife was from around here. She’d check. In the meantime, she would be wise to avoid the Outlaw brothers.

Carrie stayed so busy the rest of the day that she didn’t have much time to think about him, but that evening when she took a break from studying the county platts scattered over her bed, her thoughts turned to Frank Outlaw. She lay back on her propped pillows, took a sip of her cola and remembered that smile. And the handsome contours of his face. And the timbre of his voice.

Frank Outlaw was a hunk.

And he wasn’t married.

But she needed to forget about him. She couldn’t afford to jeopardize this deal.

Easier said than done. She thought about him some more as she creamed off her makeup and put on her sleep shirt. She thought of him the next morning as she passed his office in the courthouse. And again at five of twelve when she decided to go to lunch. Not in a long, long time had she met a man that interested her as much as Frank.