Keeper of the Stars (19 page)

“Here.” Trevor held out a business card. On the glossy side was his photograph and a website URL, as well as his agent's contact information. On the plain white back side of the card, Trevor had scribbled his cell phone number and e-mail address. “You keep in touch. Let me know how you're doing.”

“You mean it?” Brad looked up from the card, eyes wide.

Trevor grinned. “Yeah, I mean it.” Softly—probably not meaning for Brad to hear—he added, “Call me crazy, but I mean it.”

Chapter 13

T
HE CLOCK ON
P
ENNY
'
S NIGHTSTAND SAID IT WAS
4:00 a.m. Much too early to be awake. But she'd already tossed and turned for a good half hour, trying to force herself back to sleep. It hadn't worked.

With a groan of frustration, she rolled onto her side and turned on the lamp. Then she returned to her back and pulled sheets and blankets up to her chin while staring at the ceiling. Although she attempted to turn her thoughts in other directions, they returned to the previous evening, to the moment when Trevor had led her away from the group and folded her into his arms as she wept. It had seemed a safe place for a time. But then he'd stepped away. Not just physically. It had been more than that. He'd moved away emotionally too. Something that had never happened before, no matter how coldly she'd treated him.

I deserved it.

Funny, wasn't it? She'd done her best to drive him away. Now it seemed she was getting what she'd wanted. And . . . she didn't like it one bit.

Brad wouldn't like it either. Brad would want us to be friends.

Thinking of her brother reminded her of his gift to her last Christmas. She pushed aside the blankets and got out of bed. In the minutes that followed, she searched for the CD. None of the drawers in her bedroom produced it, so she put on her robe and bedroom slippers and made her way downstairs to the entertainment center in the living room, pausing long enough to plug in the tree lights. They sent a lovely, multicolored glow into the room.

It didn't take her much longer to find what she searched for. It was beside the stereo. The cellophane wrapping had been removed from the jewel case, and she wondered how often her dad had listened to the album over the last year. He'd never said a word to her about it. Her heart ached at the discovery. They could have shared this, but she'd been too angry.

With a sigh, she reached for the portable CD player her dad sometimes used—she'd tried to convince him to use his iPad but he'd declined—and went to sit on the couch. She opened the case and popped out the CD, then dropped it into the player. After hooking her hair behind her ears, she put in the earbuds and pressed Play.

The first track was a well-known love song, but Trevor made it distinctly his. The smooth sound of his voice pulled her into the romance of the lyrics. She pictured him sitting
on a tall stool, guitar resting on one thigh. For the briefest of moments, she imagined him singing to her. Longing rose up inside of her. Longing to be loved in that same way, for someone special to want to say those same words in the song about her and to her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, surprised by the unfamiliar feelings swirling inside. But it was a momentary foolishness. She'd never been in a hurry to fall in love. She was content to wait until it was meant to happen. No ticking clock for her. She was too practical for that.

She pushed the Stop button on the player, not waiting for the song to end, and removed the earbuds. Her gaze went to the Christmas tree, staring at the twinkling lights, hoping they would comfort her. Oddly enough, they did just that. For a short while, time stood still. Her thoughts drifted in a sea of silence.

“Penny?” Her father stepped out of the dark hall and into the living room. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep.” She held up the jewel player. “I was listening to music.”

Her dad moved to the couch, picked up the jewel case, and sat beside her. “Trevor's CD, huh?”

“I thought it was about time I listened to it.”

“He's good.”

“Better than I expected. Even though Brad told me a hundred times at least.”

A soft grunt was his only reply.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“Weren't you ever angry with Brad for abandoning us the way he did? For abandoning you and the ranch?”

He placed his arm around her shoulders. “He didn't abandon me, Penny, or you or the ranch. He went after his dream. That's what I raised both of you to do. I raised you to live your own lives, not to live mine.”

What her dad said was true. That was how he'd raised his children. But didn't those children have an obligation to him in return?

“I would never want you to stay in Kings Meadow because of me, Pen. If your heart pulled you elsewhere, I would want you to go.”

She frowned in frustration. Her dad couldn't manage the ranch without help, and he needed her income as well. Didn't he understand that by now?

“Penny, I would never clip your wings after teaching you how to fly.” He tightened his arm, drawing her nearer.

She thought of her brother again—and of Trevor. Both of them so passionate about their music, both of them going after a career in entertainment even when common sense and family members opposed their decisions. Had she ever wanted anything that much? No, she answered herself honestly. She hadn't. Oh, she was content being a librarian. It appealed to her love of order and logic and learning. But was it a passionate dream to be pursued?

“What's troubling you, Pen?”

As she laid her head against his shoulder, she felt that
earlier longing rise up inside her again. “I don't know,” she whispered. Not a lie. Not really the truth.

He pressed his cheek against the top of her head, and they sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

Trevor had finished his breakfast and was carrying his dishes to the sink when the phone rang. This early in the morning, the sound sent a shard of anxiety through him as he reached to answer it. “Hello?”

“Trevor. It's Rodney. Glad I caught you before you left.”

“I was just about to head your way.”

“Well, no need to come unless it's to see your mom. Penny was up early, so she's going to help me with the first feeding.”

“Is Mom up?”

“No,” Rodney answered. “Not yet.”

“You sure you don't need me?”

“I'm sure. But we'll see you tonight.”

“All right, then. See you tonight.” Trevor heard the click on the opposite end of the wire, then placed the handset back in its cradle.

He washed his breakfast dishes but, once done, was left with lots of time to kill until he had to leave for work. Habit drew him to the black case in the corner. He laid it on the floor, opened it, and removed the guitar. He held it but didn't play it. Not right away. He just let himself draw pleasure from holding the instrument.

But it was different from the kind of pleasure he used to get from it. In the past, playing and singing had been about earning the approval of the audience. He'd needed the applause the way everybody else needed oxygen. He was smart enough to understand at least some of that was due to the difficult relationship he'd had with his father, and it had made him make a host of dumb choices through the years.

Brad used to tell him that God wanted to heal the hurts from his past; that God wanted to be the father who would never betray him or hurt him or reject him. Trevor hadn't believed that was possible. Recent weeks had proven otherwise.

He strummed a few chords as the words of a worship song from church played in his memory. That was an example of another change. He'd spent the last dozen years singing or writing songs about the love between a man and a woman, but the truth was he'd known little about that emotion. Now God was opening his eyes to a greater kind of love, and he found he wanted to sing about it all the time.

His fingers stilled, and for a short while he simply sat in God's presence. From his days in Sunday school, he remembered the words
“Be still, and know that I am God.”

But then, out of nowhere, he thought of Penny. He remembered her tears. He remembered how right it had felt to hold her and comfort her. And he remembered knowing that this wasn't the time to want what he shouldn't want.

Another ring of the telephone was a welcome interruption. He set the guitar aside and answered it. “Hello?”

“Trevor, it's Yuli. I just had a breakfast meeting with the mayor, and I've got some good news for you. We decided that unless we get another major snowstorm, you won't need to come in to work until next Monday. A skeleton crew is all we need the rest of the week. Enjoy the time you've got with your mother and have a merry Christmas.”

More time to spend with his mom. More time to spend at the ranch. And, though he tried not to think it, more time to spend with Penny
.

“Thanks, Yuli. I appreciate it. Merry Christmas to you too.”

After ending the call, his gaze swept the small apartment again. Not a single reason to hang around here, he decided. He grabbed his keys, put on his coat and hat, and headed out the door.

Chapter 14

S
TANDING BENEATH THE SPRAY OF HOT WATER
, Penny shampooed away the bits of hay and dust that had worked their way into her hair, despite her knit cap. Then she stood still and enjoyed the warmth as it seeped into her bones. She never minded helping her dad with the cattle and other chores, but she wasn't a fan of the predawn temperatures of winter.

When she was finished in the shower, she got ready for work with her usual efficiency. Her hair care was low maintenance, as was her makeup routine. In less than half an hour she was headed downstairs.

Laughter from the kitchen greeted her. Her dad and Dot Reynolds. Already the sound seemed familiar to Penny. Then she heard another voice. Trevor's. The song she'd listened to earlier immediately echoed in her mind. Her heart seemed to stop and then race. She'd heard her dad call Trevor on the
phone earlier. She'd heard him say Trevor needn't come over this morning. Why was he here? And wasn't he late for work already?

Drawing a steadying breath, she descended the final few steps and walked into the kitchen, as calm and cool as she pleased.

“Ah,” her dad said. “Here's Penny now.”

She glanced toward the table, acknowledged all three with a smile and a nod of her head, and then poured herself another cup of coffee.

“Ready for some breakfast?” Her dad stood.

She waved him back down. “I'll fix it, Dad. Thanks.”

While she heated the skillet, scrambled herself an egg, and buttered a slice of toast, she listened to Dot and Trevor reminisce about some of his boyhood Christmases. Despite the laughter that sometimes accompanied the conversation, Penny sensed Trevor's memories weren't all as merry as he pretended. Something in the tone of his voice. She glanced over her shoulder. Something about his expression too.

With the plate of food in one hand and a small glass of orange juice in the other, she went to the table.

Her dad said, “Trevor doesn't have to go to work again until after Christmas. Where do you think he should take Dot today, Penny? We've got the sleigh ride at the Leonard ranch tonight.”

“We can't go far,” Trevor interjected. “Have to be here to help you feed.”

Her dad frowned. “I don't like interfering with your
mother's visit. I appreciate your help, but I can manage on my own when I have to. I've been doing it for a long time.”

A protest rose in Penny's throat, but before she could give it voice, Dot spoke.

“Please, you two. I don't need to be entertained.” The woman looked first at Penny's dad, then at Trevor. “I am perfectly happy to stay right here and just
be
with you. With
all
of you. I can't tell you how nice it has been to have these leisurely days.”

Her dad didn't look convinced yet.

Trevor took hold of his mom's hand at the corner of the table. “Rodney, I can promise you that my mom means whatever she says. We're going to stick close to the ranch.”

The tension in Penny's shoulders released a little, and she was glad she'd remained silent. Her dad didn't like it when she fussed over him. He'd made that abundantly clear. Still, if he wanted to avoid back surgery, he needed to heed the surgeon's warnings. That meant less physical labor. He was doing so much better. He didn't want to mess himself up again.

Let Trevor help.

She almost smiled at how her thinking had changed. First she'd hated him and wanted him gone. Then she'd grudgingly accepted his presence. And now . . . now . . .

As if he knew her thoughts, Trevor looked at her. Their gazes met, and in her mind she once again heard him singing the lyrics from his album. Her stomach tumbled in response. Appetite swept away, she picked up her breakfast dishes and carried them to the sink. After a quick scrape and rinse, she
put plate, glass, and table service into the dishwasher. By the time she was done, the unwelcome reaction had abated, and she was able to look toward the table again.