Change of Heart (19 page)

CHAPTER

A
FEW DAYS LATER,
Trevor’s phone rang during his morning coffee. He looked at the caller ID.
Casey.
Trevor’s stomach dropped. Why would he be calling so early?

“Dude,” Casey said when Trevor answered. “Chris signed the papers.”

“He did?” They’d all expected him to keep trying to win Evelyn back, to hold out on her as long as possible. Divorce didn’t look good for his case, though neither did a pregnant mistress.

He’d been back in court and all of his assets had been frozen, which meant that Evelyn had nothing but her part-time work at The Paper Heart, free room and board, and Trevor, Lilian, and the Volunteers, who made sure she was taken care of.

It would be only a short time before Evelyn’s divorce was final. Trevor’s thoughts were interrupted by Casey on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, but . . . man, couldn’t you wait another month?”

Trevor frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Whit. I read the paper.” Casey sighed. “How long has it been going on?”

“Lilian, give me that.” He reached across the table, where his aunt was making a shopping list. She shoved the folded newspaper toward him.

He snapped it open. “You’ve
got
to be kidding.”

Lilian stuck her pencil into the back of her ponytail. “What is it?”

He flipped the paper around to show her. There on the second page was a photo of him and Evelyn in his wood shop the other day.

“What in the world?” Lilian took the paper. “Trevor, what is going on here?”

He groaned. “Nothing is going on. That is not what it looks like.”

She threw it back at him. “It looks like you’re hiding something.”

Someone had caught them looking at one another
 
—a pause in their
completely innocent
conversation, he was sure
 
—but even he had to admit, at first glance, the image suggested more than friendship.

“Come on, dude,” Casey said.

But before Trevor could respond, Evelyn appeared in the doorway. She held up her own phone, and he cringed at the image on the screen
 
—that same falsely incriminating article, which must also be featured in the
Courier
’s online edition.

“Casey, I’ll call you back.” He hung up and stared at her.

“Who would do this?” Panic washed over her face. “And why?”

Trevor raked a hand across the stubble on his chin. “I don’t know, Evie. I’m so sorry.”

Evelyn’s head shake seemed almost involuntary. “Someone is out to get me, Whit. Someone is intent on making a story where there is none, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why.”

She had a point. Regardless of the fact that Evelyn’s name had been cleared weeks ago and most of the press had set their sights elsewhere, someone at the
Loves Park Courier
kept dredging up Evelyn’s dirty laundry. Her anxiety. Her therapy visits. Her medication. And now her friendship with Whit.

“What are people going to think when they read this?”

Lilian pushed her chair away from the table and glared at Evelyn. “Why is that the only thing that matters with you?”

Evelyn’s brows rose.

Trevor had asked Evelyn the same thing many times, but it sounded severe coming from someone else. “Lilian.” Trevor put a hand on his aunt’s shoulder. “Not now.”

Evelyn steeled her jaw. “Go ahead. Tell me what you think.”

Lilian sighed. “I think you need to figure out who you are, not who everyone else wants you to be. And that has to be enough. It’s enough for the One who made you
 
—why isn’t it enough for you?”

Evelyn looked away, hurt.

“Who cares what some faulty newspaper says? What’s the truth?” Lilian was on a roll.

Evelyn met the older woman’s eyes for a brief moment, then ran out of the room without saying a word.

“Typical,” Lilian said.

“That was harsh,” Trevor said, wondering if he should go after her.

“She’s got to learn, Trevor. Same way we all learned. This stuff can ruin you, or you can use it to make you stronger. That’s why God allows it, you know
 
—to stretch us, change us. Get us where he wants us.”

Trevor turned away, leaning over the counter. “Why couldn’t you say that, then?”

Lilian was silent for a lengthy moment. “You told me you dealt with this.”

He spun around and faced her. “What are you talking about? You don’t believe that garbage, do you?”

“Of course not. Because I know my nephew would never step over that line.”

At least she believed that much.

She held up the paper, the photo taunting him. “But I also know that look on your face.”

“Lilian.”

“Don’t ‘Lilian’ me. I know you as well as anyone can, Trevor, and this is dangerous territory you’re in here.”

“I’m fine,” Trevor lied. “I just want to be her friend. And I want to figure out who is printing all these lies.”

Lilian threw the paper on the table. “Friends, huh?”

“Yes. You know I gave that up a long time ago, Lil.”

“Sometimes the heart gets confused,” she said. “Convinces you you’ve surrendered when really you’ve just shoved the issue down deeper.”

Trevor glared at her. He didn’t like the implication. He was a man of honor and integrity. He knew Evelyn wasn’t his to love, and he’d battled that fact for years. But he’d told God he was done. More than once.

And he meant it, even if his feelings didn’t always fall in line.

That was surrender, wasn’t it?

“I’ll figure out who wrote the article,” Lilian said. “Because frankly, I’m pretty angry about that too.” She muttered something about Evelyn’s fresh start and let the screen door slam on her way out, leaving Trevor face-to-face with the demons of his past and a photo that clearly tattled on every one of those feelings he’d been working so desperately to keep hidden.

CHAPTER

A
NOTHER WEEK AND A HALF LATER,
Evelyn sat at The Paper Heart, listening to Doris read the minutes from the Volunteers’ last impromptu meeting, which had been sprung on her in Trevor’s guesthouse.

“Can someone else read the minutes?” Ursula said, her voice gruff.

Doris gasped. “What’s wrong with the way I read the minutes?”

“You’re so slow. Besides, all you really have to say is we told Evelyn to dig up what she could for Operation Whitney/Lawson.”

Evelyn glowered. “Is that really what we’re calling it?”

Doris nibbled the edge of a cookie. “Perfectly acceptable name. Straightforward, so no one gets confused.”

Evelyn didn’t bother to argue. “I haven’t made much progress.” Truth was, she hadn’t even tried. After Trevor’s directive to “figure it out,” she’d had a hard time concentrating on anything but whatever she was supposed to be figuring out. That, coupled with the fallout from the newspaper article all but accusing her of having an affair with Trevor, had pretty much occupied any open space in her head.

The door of The Paper Heart opened and two women walked in. Women she recognized from her charity work around town. When they spotted Evelyn, they looked at each other, whispered something, and walked straight out of the store.

“Unbelievable,” Ursula said. “Want me to give them a piece of your mind?”

The familiar pace of anxiety returned to Evelyn’s heart. She glanced at Abigail. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m costing you customers.”

Abigail shrugged. “Those aren’t the kind of customers I want.”

“How absurd,” Gigi said. “It’s been months since this whole mess began. Haven’t people forgotten by now?”

“Please, Gigi, don’t pretend you didn’t see the newspaper last week. Someone is determined to keep the Brandt name in the headlines one way or another,” Evelyn said.

“I am assuming there’s nothing to that story,” Gigi said, a question in her voice.

“Of course there’s not,” Evelyn said, somewhat insulted. “Whit is my friend. You of all people should know that. It’s just humiliating knowing everyone is still talking about me.”

Her run-in with Lilian had left even more questions at the back of her mind. It did matter to her what people said and thought
 
—was that wrong?

And that crack about caring about only what God thought about her
 
—that would be great if someone could give her instructions on how to do it.

Most days lately, Evelyn felt like a complete failure. It was a wonder she hadn’t had another full-blown panic attack these last few weeks.

Ursula harrumphed as she took three cookies from the plate at the center of the table. “Let ’em talk. If you’re pleasing everyone all the time, something is off with your integrity.”

“What do you mean?” Evelyn asked.

“You weren’t created to make everyone happy,” the old woman said. “If everyone likes you all the time, you’re doing something wrong.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way. She’d spent most of her life trying to please everyone around her, especially Christopher. What if doing so had compromised who she was?

“The trouble is, it’s interfering with a project I’ve started,” Evelyn said.

Tess clapped her hands. “Back to Operation Whitney/Lawson!”

Evelyn shook her head.

“The painted hearts?” Doris asked. “Valentine’s Day isn’t all that many months away, you know.”

“I know, and I haven’t forgotten the hearts, but this is an idea I have to help generate revenue for Whitney Farms. However, I need community support.” Evelyn turned her mug around in her hands. “Hard to come by these days.”

The other ladies stilled at her admission as if they’d realized in that moment what an outcast she was.

“Tell us the plan,” Gigi said. “We’ll make some calls.”

Evelyn noticed her racing heart had begun to quiet. She pulled out her notes outlining her plans for the farm. “I have all kinds of ideas for involving tourists and local families in pick-your-own events, but I think we should start with a Whitney Farms Dinner Night in the white barn.”

“You want people to eat in a barn?” Ursula grimaced.

“It’s a very clean barn, Ursula,” Evelyn said. “We’ll set up several of Trevor’s big farmhouse tables and serve our community family style, with local food grown right here on Whitney Farms.”

Gigi’s face brightened. “Evelyn, this is a wonderful idea.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Ursula said. “You might be more than just some guy’s arm candy after all.”

Evelyn frowned. “Thanks?”

Abigail smiled. “You know, Trevor could probably sell his furniture there too.”

“He would never,” Evelyn said. “He’s so weird about it.”

“Not weird,” Doris said. “Modest.”

“You’re just not used to that quality in a man,” Ursula said with a snort.

She had a point.

“Now,” Gigi said, “we’ll help you with your mission. Are you going to help us with ours?”

Evelyn sighed. She didn’t want to invade Whit’s personal space, and she knew he was against anyone matching him under any circumstances, but she did have one bit of information she could leak in an effort to quiet her nosy cohorts.

Gigi must’ve sensed her withholding something. She leaned toward Evelyn and narrowed her eyes. “Spill it, sister.”

“I don’t know who told you Whit is backing away from Maggie, but I think they were mistaken.”

Doris gasped. “What do you know?”

“I don’t
know
anything, but I saw them outside the barn,” Evelyn said.

“Oooh, a secret rendezvous.” Tess sounded thrilled by it. “Tell us more.”

Evelyn hadn’t intended to spy on Whit that day, but after Maggie had surprised them midconversation, she’d taken a short walk to clear her head. On her way back, she’d caught sight of Trevor and Maggie through the trees.

Gigi’s expression turned pious. “What were they
doing
out there?”

Evelyn had lingered longer than she should have, but she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t seen this side of Whit before. He was this quiet, shy friend who never talked about himself unless he was forced, and accidentally observing him with Maggie made her wonder why he had spent so many years alone.

Despite his gruff exterior, he had more decency in him than anyone she’d ever known. Surely other women over the years had seen that.

“They were kissing,” Evelyn said, remembering the way Trevor had held Maggie close.

Gigi looked thoughtful. “That’s unexpected.”

“That’s all I know,” Evelyn said, trying to push aside the memory of the way Trevor took Maggie’s hand and led her away from the old barn, leaving Evelyn to hurry out from her hiding spot behind an aspen tree. She’d felt like a Peeping Tom and had to battle a twinge of jealousy that sprang up at the sight of their intimate moment.

Of course she was happy for her friend, but she wondered why he seemed to have reserved the best parts of himself for other people. Why, when it came to her, was he so withdrawn? He’d certainly been kind to her, but his kindness sometimes seemed forced or obligatory. Had he grown tired of her not pulling her weight on the farm? Had he realized he could command some decent income from the guesthouse if only he kicked her out and found an actual tenant?

“So they’re kissing,” Gigi said, taking over the meeting again. “I suppose that’s progress.”

“Definitely,” Tess said with a nod.

The others agreed. Evelyn said nothing but happened to glance at Ursula, whose eyes were focused squarely on her like she was a robot programmed to scan Evelyn in search of secret thoughts. Evelyn prayed for a change of subject
 
—and fast. The last thing she needed was Ursula, of all people, figuring out the mess of conflicting emotions running around in her mind.

She stood. “I have to go.”

“So soon?” Ursula squinted in her direction.

“I have chores,” Evelyn said, though she imagined they knew that wasn’t exactly true. “I’ll keep you posted if anything else happens.”

Gigi followed her to the door. “I forgot to give this to you, dear,” she said, pressing what Evelyn could only assume was cash into her hand.

“Gigi, no.” Too often lately she’d been the recipient of her friends’ charity.

“I insist,” Gigi said. “And don’t forget the hearts.” Gigi started to walk away. “Make them over!”

Evelyn drove toward the farm, relishing the silence of her warm car. Summer was wearing on, and she remembered she’d polished off the last of her ice cream the night before. Ice cream
 
—one of the few indulgences she allowed herself
 
—had become a ritual in the evening, just like walking the farm’s perimeter had in the morning. After Whit mentioned it, she tried it for herself. She couldn’t walk the whole thing
 
—not yet
 
—but she certainly saw the value of time spent outdoors. Those walks had turned into her favorite time of day. A time to clear her head and even whisper a prayer or two.

Ever since the last ice cream incident, she’d only visited the store late at night when no one was there and she didn’t know any of the cashiers on duty, but it was midmorning now, and the parking lot was full. What if that same clerk was there? What if she refused to serve Evelyn again?

Evelyn pulled into the lot, turned off the engine, and stared at the door. She had to rejoin society at some point. And she had as much right as anyone to be there.

So why did she feel exactly the opposite?

“Figure it out.”

She didn’t want to be that woman anymore. The one who hid. The one who cared too much about the opinions of everyone else.

She slung her purse over her shoulder and walked toward the front door, holding her head high, yet aware of the stares. Young moms stopped pushing carts to look at her
 
—the senator’s wife who’d all but vanished from society had reemerged wearing cutoff jean shorts and a floral top with a pair of brown leather sandals . . . only days after the latest development in her scandal.

A headliner, for sure.

She strode through the aisles, found her ice cream in the freezer section, and was walking back toward the registers when she spotted the clerk who had practically thrown her out of the store. There were three other cashiers working, but in a fit of lunacy, Evelyn chose the rude cashier’s line.

She waited as the girl finished with a customer, aware of the line that was now forming behind her.

“Morning.” The cashier ran the pint across her scanner without looking up. “That all?” When she met Evelyn’s eyes, her face fell. “You’re back.”

Evelyn smiled. “I am.”

“Spending taxpayers’ money again?”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Evelyn said, surprising herself. Her heart pounded against her chest.

The girl’s mouth twisted, and the woman behind Evelyn took a step back.

“I’ve done nothing wrong, and I won’t allow you to treat me like this in my own town. So unless you want me to talk to your manager, you will give me my total, take my money, and kindly shut your mouth.”

The cashier stared for a long moment as if trying to decide if this was a dare she wanted to take. Finally she let out a sigh. “It’s $4.50.”

“Great.” Evelyn fished the money out of her wallet and handed it to the girl, who snatched the bills from her hand, ripped off the receipt, and held it out with the change.

Evelyn took it, picked up her ice cream, and strolled out the door as an odd excitement washed over her.

She’d never defended herself in her whole life. She’d spent years working hard to avoid ever having to do so, but she had to admit it felt good.

And she didn’t even care if they quoted her on the nightly news.