Keeper of the Stars (9 page)

“Shouldn't you wait until the storm lets up a bit?”

Her dad pulled on his coat, followed by his gloves. “Maybe it will by the time we're finished in the barn.”

Penny knew she should be glad her dad had help. He'd become an advocate of feeding his cattle three times a day after reading a study that showed increased weight gain in three feedings versus the same amount of feed given once or twice a day. But she thought the extra work was too much for him. He wasn't as strong as he used to be. His back caused him a lot of pain, though he tried to hide it from her, and he tired easily.

“I'll be out in a few minutes,” she answered at last, choosing not to repeat her concerns just now.

Her gaze slipped to Trevor, standing beyond her dad. She could see that he watched her, but the dim light in
the entryway prevented her from reading his expression. Unsettled, she looked out at the snowstorm again. Moments later, she heard the door open and close.

She was reminded of last Christmas when Brad had been home. It had been a good holiday for all of them. How many times had she watched the two people in the world she loved the most bundle themselves in coats and hats and gloves and head out into the frigid elements to tend the livestock? Seeing father and son together had made her happy. Her brother had spent the days helping their dad with anything and everything that needed doing, and Penny had envisioned things going along the same way for years to come. Brad, she'd believed, would find employment with an engineering firm in Boise, and the rest of the time he would be at the ranch, helping their dad. Then, two days after Christmas, her brother had dropped his bombshell: He wasn't staying in Kings Meadow. He wasn't looking for work in Idaho. He was leaving for Nashville to audition as a drummer for a band. If he got what he was hoping for, he would be going on the road with Trevor Reynolds.

Less than nine months later, he was dead.

Tears welled, but Penny refused to let them fall. Anger served her better than sorrow, she reminded herself. With a determined tilt of her chin, she headed for the mudroom, where warm attire awaited her. A short while later, ready for the elements, she headed outside, walking with head down toward the barn.

The door squeaked as she opened and closed it. Just
inside, she stopped, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light. Then she moved toward the sound of her dad's voice. He and Trevor stood side by side, forearms resting on the top rail of the stall that held Harmony.

“When's the foal due?” Trevor asked.

Before her dad could answer, Penny said, “Late March or early April.”

Both men turned toward her.

Trevor said, “She's a beautiful horse. I've always been partial to buckskins.”

The same was true for Penny, but she wasn't about to say so to him. She didn't want to sound as if they had anything in common.

“Well,” her dad said, intruding on her thoughts, “let's get the cows fed.” He turned and headed for the rear door of the barn.

Parked outside was an ancient flatbed truck that her dad somehow managed to keep running from year to year. On the bed were bales of hay and, in a makeshift rack behind the cab, a couple of pitchforks. Penny went straight to the back of the truck and hopped onto the bed. Trevor followed close behind and mirrored her action while her dad got into the cab. Moments later, the engine roared to life. In unison, Penny and Trevor moved to the front of the bed and grabbed hold of the railing. As they drove toward the pasture where the cows awaited them, the wind died down and the falling snow turned to fat, lazy flakes that drifted to earth, catching on knit caps and eyelashes.

“It's beautiful here,” Trevor said above the rumble of the truck.

“Mmm.”

“Brad always said Kings Meadow is the most beautiful place in the world, but I figured he was prejudiced. Now I'm not so sure.”

Penny followed his gaze to the nearby mountains, the green of pine trees dappling the snowscape. The tension that had been coiled so tightly inside of her eased a bit. Maybe it was hearing that her brother had talked about Kings Meadow with affection. When he'd turned his back on Idaho in pursuit of a different kind of dream, it had felt like a rejection of all that her parents had loved. All that Penny loved too.

The mooing of cows interrupted her thoughts.

Trevor laughed. “I guess they know what's coming.”

Without answering—or waiting for the truck to stop completely—she hopped down from the bed and hurried to open the wide gate. Her father drove the truck through the opening, and Penny swung the gate shut again, then got back onto the bed. The truck followed a slow, circular route, and Penny began cutting twine and shoving the bales off one side of the bed. Trevor watched a moment and then joined in, shoving hay off the opposite side. She could see that he was strong, and he worked fast. When their gazes met again, he grinned, seeming to enjoy the physical labor.

“Is this how all ranchers feed their cows?” he asked.

She gave a little shrug. “Depends on the operation, the size of the herd, the location, the weather, and the preference
of the rancher. Mostly the latter. This is how Dad's always done it.”

“He loves this ranch. That's obvious.” His smile broadened.

Is this how you charmed Brad into working for you? With that smile of yours and that easygoing manner and knowing just the right thing to say?
With those silent questions, she willed her irritation with him to return. She succeeded . . . a little.

“Black Angus, right?”

“Yes.”

“Beneath the frozen mud stuck to their coats, they're a pretty animal, aren't they?”

His comment surprised her.

“Don't
you
think so?” Trevor asked with another of his effortless smiles.

She wanted to remain irritated with him, but how could she be annoyed after he said something like that? She'd always thought her dad's cows were pretty. Especially the ones raised for 4-H, after they'd been bathed, brushed, and curried and were ready to be judged at the fair, their black coats gleaming in the sunshine. And their calves were beyond cute. Penny loved watching them gambol about the pasture in the springtime. Every year there was one that became her favorite.

“Yes,” she answered at last. “I think so.”

Trevor broke the twine on the last bale of hay and shoved the feed off the truck. As soon as she saw him step back from the edge, Penny rapped on the roof of the cab three times to let her father know they were done. The truck completed its wide circle, stopping once more at the gate. This time Trevor
jumped to the ground before Penny could, and he was the one who opened the gate. He grinned at her as the truck rolled past him, his enjoyment obvious.

Mercy, he was much too handsome—and he knew it too. It was easy to imagine girls hanging all over him after a concert. He must have his choice of beauties in every town he and his band performed in. But he wouldn't find that kind of attention here in Kings Meadow. Women in these parts had more sense than that.

Then she remembered Tess Carter at the bazaar yesterday, and her confidence in female friends and neighbors drained away.

Well, at least
I
have more sense than that.
She frowned to herself.
Was that what Brad liked about the life of a musician? The attention of women?
She gave her head a slight shake, knowing that wasn't true of Brad. He'd liked girls, of course, but his enthusiasm about music, especially about the drums, went back to before he'd noticed the opposite sex.

“Thanks for letting me help,” Trevor said. “I enjoyed it.”

She drew back, surprised to find him standing on the truck bed beside her. She'd been so lost in thought she hadn't noticed he'd rejoined her or that the vehicle was moving once again.

Wordless, she shrugged.

He looked as if he would say something else, then nodded and let it pass.

Thank goodness for small favors.

Brad

2008

T
HE SUMMER BETWEEN
B
RAD
'
S FRESHMAN AND SOPHOMORE
years in high school, he got a part-time job as a bag boy at the Merc. He had his eye on a fancy new drum set, and there was no way he wanted to earn the money doing chores around the ranch. That might have been okay when he was thirteen. It wasn't okay anymore.

He was bagging groceries for Sophie Anderson when he saw his sister enter through the automatic doors. His face broke into a smile that matched hers. “I thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow,” he said as she drew closer.

“I couldn't wait.” Penny kissed his cheek and lifted a hand as if to ruffle his hair, then thought better of it. She looked up at the two women on either side of the checkout counter. “Hi, Ms. Cook. Hi, Mrs. Anderson.”

“Another year of college under your belt?” Laura Cook asked as she rang up the final item on the conveyer belt.

“Yes. Three down. Three to go.”

“Getting your master's, I take it.” Sophie Anderson slipped her debit card from her wallet. “Good for you. What in?”

“Library science.”

“Penny the librarian,” Brad said, rolling his eyes. “Doesn't sound very exciting.”

“It's what interests me, buddy. It'll be a good career.”

Brad liked to read, but he didn't care for the idea of spending his life inside some stuffy old library. He had bigger dreams than that. Or maybe just different ones. Had Penny ever wanted something different? Something that involved stepping out on a limb? Taking a risk?

“I'd better let you get back to work,” she said, intruding on his wandering thoughts.

“Okay. I'll see you at home in a couple of hours.”

Penny bid good-bye to the other women, ending with a little wave that took in all three of them. Then she left the grocery store.

“Your sister has blossomed into a beautiful young woman,” Laura Cook said as she handed the paper receipt to Sophie Anderson. “I wouldn't be surprised if she found a husband before she gets that master's degree.”

Brad gave a slight shake of his head. If that's what Ms. Cook thought, she didn't know Penny Cartwright. When his sister set a goal, she didn't waver from it. She made her plan and then stuck to it. She'd been like that as far back as
he could remember. Maybe she didn't look strong because of her slender figure, but she had a will made of pure steel. No guy she met would be able to alter the plan she'd made. Brad would wager on it.

Chapter 6

T
REVOR TOOK AN IMMEDIATE LIKING TO HIS SUPERVISOR
, Yuli Elorrieta. The middle-aged man was short and slight of build. He had a hooked nose that seemed too prominent for his narrow face, but his smile came easily and there was a twinkle in his eyes that said he enjoyed life to the fullest degree possible. A photograph on the desk in his office suggested a large number of children and several grandchildren as well.

On Monday, Trevor's first day on the job, Yuli gave him a walking tour of Kings Meadow. “Our department takes care of street maintenance and cleaning. We're responsible for maintaining all of the town-owned properties.” He pointed out three of those as they walked west on Main Street. “We clean the storm drains, put up and take down the holiday decorations at Christmas and for the Fourth of July. Public Works is also in charge of trash pickup within the town
limits. Residents who live outside the limits have to take their trash to a collection area on the southeast corner of town. We'll drive over there later.”

“Okay.”

“Our department takes care of the sidewalks, including snow removal, and we also maintain and install street signage.”

No answer seemed required, so Trevor nodded to show he continued to listen.

“Since you're a part-time employee, it's doubtful you'd ever be called in for an emergency, and you won't be assigned to any one particular task as our full-time employees are. When you check in each workday, you'll get your assignment for that day.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“It should be.”

They completed their loop in silence, arriving back at Yuli's truck. They got in and headed, as promised earlier, toward the trash collection site.

As Yuli drove, Trevor asked, “How long have you been the supervisor of Public Works?”

“Twenty years come January.”

“Wow. Twenty years? That's a long time in one job.”

Yuli chuckled. “I've been employed with them even longer than that. Went to work for the department when I was still in high school. Working part time, like you are now.”

“And you never left?”

“No.”

“Not even for college?”

“No. My family had little enough money to spare for the essentials in life. My father considered college a luxury.” He glanced over at Trevor. “You?”

“I attended a small college in California right out of high school, but I was too eager to break into the music business to last in it for long.” He turned his gaze out the passenger window. “I regret it sometimes.”

“Maybe you should do it now. It's never too late.” Yuli laughed softly. “As soon as our youngest daughter graduates from the university, it's going to be my turn.”

Trevor's eyes swung back to Yuli. “You're going to leave your job for college?”
At your age?
he finished silently.

“I won't have to leave. I'll take classes online.” The older man grinned. “It's a different world we live in today.”

Trevor thought of his father. How disappointed he'd been when Trevor left college. But then, Trevor had disappointed William Reynolds all his life. Nothing Trevor had achieved as a boy or as a man had been good enough for his father. No grade had been high enough. No award grand enough. No job good enough. No girlfriend pretty enough.

They arrived at the trash collection site, and Trevor was thankful for the interruption to his thoughts. Yuli pulled the truck into the lot and stopped but left the engine running. He pointed out the different containers and explained the duties performed by the employees. Then he put the truck into gear and steered the vehicle back toward town, following a different route that would bring them, he explained, to the
large metal building that housed the Public Works vehicles and equipment.