Keeper of the Stars (20 page)

“I'm off,” she said, relieved that both her voice and smile were steady. “Have a fun day, whatever you all decide to do.”

Her dad said, “We'll eat dinner early, so come straight home from work.”

“I will.” With a little wave, she left the kitchen, wishing with every step that she hadn't listened to Trevor's CD that morning.

While Trevor mucked a couple of stalls, his mom and Rodney visited, their voices soft in the dim light of the barn. Trevor grinned to himself as he listened to their easy conversation. They sounded like lifelong friends instead of people who'd been strangers until a few days ago. He guessed that shouldn't surprise him. Rodney had made him feel the same way from day one.

Trevor paused in his work and looked across the barn to where the older couple sat, Rodney on a stool near the workbench and his mom on a folded tarp atop a couple of bales of straw. Winter sunlight filtered through spaces in the slats of wood, highlighting dust motes floating in the air and painting a kind of crown in his mom's brown hair.

When was the last time he'd seen her look as relaxed and happy as she did now? A long time. Many years. As a kid, Trevor
had heard his dad belittle his mom almost as often as he did it to him. After he left home for Nashville, Trevor's rare visits home had filled his mom with tension—despite how much she wanted him there—because she'd known a fight between father and son was inevitable. Many fights, even when the visit was brief. In the years since his father's death, she'd had to learn to live alone, to do things she'd never had to do when his dad was alive. That had been more difficult for her than she'd admitted to Trevor, but he'd figured it out on his own.

She was different now. Was it being here in Kings Meadow or was it a change that had happened over time? Perhaps it was a little of both.

Trevor smiled as he resumed cleaning out the second stall. A sense of well-being wrapped around him with the warmth of a down-filled coat. The praise song he'd thought of earlier this morning came to mind again, and he began to whistle it softly.

“Trevor.” His mom's voice drew his attention toward the stall door, and he was surprised to find her so close. “That's a song you should record. You should do an entire album of worship music.”

What a crazy idea. The album he and the guys had recorded some years back hadn't exactly been a runaway hit, despite everything he'd tried. Consumers of Christian music wouldn't even know who he was. If he couldn't sell country, he couldn't sell anything.

“Think about it,” she added with a smile. “I'm going in the house to start supper.”

Rodney appeared at her side. “I told her she's our guest and shouldn't do the cooking, but I'm learning she has a stubborn streak.”

Trevor couldn't hold back a short laugh of agreement.

“Watch it,” his mom said, pointing a finger at him, “or I'll burn something meant for you.”

“Hey!
I'm
not the one who called you stubborn.”

Her face lit with a smile. “I know.” Then she walked away, soft laughter trailing behind her.

After a few moments of silence, Rodney said, “Your mother's a joy.”

Trevor couldn't have argued even if he'd wanted to. His mom
was
a joy. She'd been the anchor in a home often consumed by stormy seas, and he felt a surge of love for her. He was glad for the chance to see her looking . . . looking what? The word came to him in an instant: she looked
carefree
. Another reason—one among many—to be thankful to the Cartwrights. And to God.

Trevor leaned the pitchfork against the wall of the barn. “I'm finished here. What else needs done?”

“Nothing, son. Let's go inside and get warm while we wait for Penny's return. Big night ahead.”

“I'll bring in Harmony first so Penny won't have to do it when she gets home from work. I'll join you and Mom in a bit.”

“All right.”

Trevor reached for his coat that he'd laid over the top rail of the stall. He hadn't needed it while he mucked the stalls,
but he knew he would need it when he went out the back door of the barn. Once his coat was buttoned closed, he took the pitchfork in hand again and returned it to where all of the tools were stored before heading outside.

Although technically still afternoon, the promise of evening had dimmed the bright blue of the winter sky. It wouldn't be long before the evening star was visible.

Arriving at the pasture fence, he whistled, although it wasn't necessary. He'd been seen already. Harmony trotted toward him, followed by the two other horses that shared this paddock, all of them counting on a treat of some kind. They weren't disappointed this time. He had carrots in his pocket and distributed them quickly. Then he led Harmony out of the pasture and into the barn.

If he bought a horse while he was in Kings Meadow, what would he do with it once he returned to Nashville? Sure, he could rent a pasture as he had before, but after he began touring, then what? He wouldn't be around enough to enjoy it. Why have the expense if he rarely got to ride?

As he gave Harmony's neck a final pat before heading to the house, it occurred to him that the idea of being back on the road, playing music in smoky venues or at noisy fairs and festivals, held little appeal. The discovery unsettled him. All he'd ever wanted was to make it big in the country music business. The pursuit of fame had been like a drug to him, something he needed as much as food or sleep. Without his quest for stardom, who was he? What was he?

He didn't know, but he knew he'd better find out.

Brad

2011

“H
EY
, D
AD
!” B
RAD HOPPED UP FROM THE DESK IN
his bedroom and carried his laptop with him out into the hallway. “Where are you?”

“In the kitchen.”

He hurried down the stairs. “Listen to this. I finally got a reply from Trevor Reynolds.” He looked at the screen. “ ‘Hey, kid. Sorry it took so long for me to answer your last e-mail. I needed to wait until we nailed down a few more dates. Afraid the news is Lincoln, Nebraska, is as far west as we'll make it this summer.' ”

He glanced up at his dad, then continued reading. “ ‘Congrats on graduating from high school with honors, and thanks for the video you sent from that party you played with your
friends. You're good. When you get to college, don't let your practice slide. Take care and stay in touch. Trevor.' ”

He looked up again. “Did you hear what he said? He liked the video. He thought I played good.”

“I heard.”

“Man, I wish I could go see him perform again. Maybe you and I could take a trip to Nebraska. You know—a father-son thing. Last hurrah before college.” He tried to copy the pleading look his sister could do with ease.

His dad laughed. “Nice try, son.”

Sure. He'd known it was a long shot, with or without the pleading look. Money was tight. His dad had used what little there was to spare to see Penny get her master's degree in Denver. Brad was at home to help tend the livestock. That aspect of ranch life had kept his dad on a short leash for years. But the ranch was his dad's passion just like the drums were Brad's. His dad didn't mind the sacrifices he made to live the life he loved. Brad planned to follow his example in pursuit of the life he wanted.

“I was about to make some popcorn,” his dad said. “Want some?”

“Sure.” Brad closed the laptop and set it on the counter.

“I'll get the air popper. You melt the butter.”

“Okay.”

His dad opened a cupboard and reached for the popper. “We won't have many more chances to do this before you leave for college.”

“Dad, I'm only going to BSU. I'll probably be home so
often you'll want to kick me out. And besides, we've got all summer before I leave.”

“All summer,” his dad echoed softly. “It seems a long time at your age. Not so much at mine.”

Brad got butter out of the refrigerator and put some into a coffee mug to melt in the microwave. By the time it was done, the corn was starting to pop into a large mixing bowl on the opposite counter. The sounds and smells brought an onslaught of good memories with them, and Brad suddenly understood that he really would miss home once he was out on his own.

Thanks, God, for making him my dad. He's the best.

Chapter 15

T
HE AROMA OF BREWED COFFEE MET
P
ENNY THE
next morning as she entered through the rear door of the library. Not a surprise, since she was a good fifteen minutes late to work. She hadn't been able to get ready this morning with her usual efficiency. After returning from the community sleigh ride at the Leonard ranch the previous evening, the Cartwrights and the Reynoldses had stayed up late, visiting and laughing, Penny included. She'd told herself more than once to go upstairs to bed, but then her dad or Dot or even Trevor had started telling another story and she'd stayed to hear the ending.

“Tired?” Karli asked as she watched Penny hang up her coat. “Here.” She held out a cup of coffee. “You look like you need this more than I do.”

Penny took it. “Thanks. I do. I didn't take time for any before leaving the house.”

“Did you stay at the Leonards' too late?”

“Not really. But it was close to midnight when Trevor finally left the house.”

Karli cocked an eyebrow. “You went on the sleigh ride with Trevor Reynolds?”

“Not just with him.” She set the coffee mug on the counter. “His mom and my dad too. It was a family affair.”

Family?
She felt her cheeks grow warm. She'd meant her dad, but it hadn't sounded that way. Then she remembered sitting between her dad and Trevor in the sleigh and the blush intensified. The same blanket had covered her lap and Trevor's. For some reason, it had felt intimate, meaningful, and as inviting as an embrace.

What a silly thing to think
.

Trying to sound normal, she said to Karli, “I didn't see you out at the Leonards'. Did you go?”

“No. Stevie started running a fever again.” Stevie was Karli's toddler son. “We decided not to expose a babysitter to whatever he has. Although he seemed well enough this morning when I left the house.”

“I'm glad to hear he's better. Nobody wants to be sick this time of year. Especially not the little guys.”

Karli smiled. “He is in awe of the tree. Doesn't understand about gifts yet. He was too young last Christmas. I'm afraid I went overboard with presents for him this year. It's so hard not to.” Her smile faded as she shook her head. “Mitch isn't pleased about the credit-card balance.”

Penny didn't have a husband or kids, but she still understood the temptations to overspend at Christmas. Thankfully she'd kept her spending in check this year. To be honest, she'd had little choice.

“Looks like it's time to open the front door.” Karli moved away from the counter. “See you out there.”

Penny drew in a deep breath, took a sip of her coffee, and then followed Karli out of the break room. She'd just reached the checkout area when the telephone rang. She answered it. “Kings Meadow District Library. Penny speaking.”

“Penny. It's Trevor.”

Her heart did a strange happy dance in her chest at the sound of his voice.
Ridiculous.

“Something's wrong with your dad. He collapsed. The paramedics are on the way to the ranch.”

Her heart crashed to a halt. “Collapsed? What do you mean? Where was he? What was he doing? Is it his back?”

“It was in the house. He said he wasn't feeling well, and then he just sort of crumpled to the floor.”

“He fainted?”

Hesitation, then, “We're not sure. He's still unconscious.”

“No,” she whispered.

“We called for the paramedics. They should be here any minute.”

“I'll be right there. I'm coming home now.”

“You might not make it to the ranch in time.”

In time?

“You should meet us at the clinic. I'm sure they'll want to get him there as fast as they can and let the doctor decide if he needs to go to the hospital in Boise.”

Clinic. Doctor. Hospital. She felt her world spinning out of control again.

“Penny?”

Yes
, she mouthed, but no sound came out.

“The paramedics are here.”

“I'll meet you at the clinic.” She dropped the handset into the cradle without saying good-bye. When she turned, she found Karli standing nearby. “It's my dad.”

“I overheard. Go. Go now. I'll take care of things. Don't give the library a second thought.”

With an abrupt nod, she hurried toward the back exit, fear making it hard to breathe.

Dad. Not Dad. Please not Dad.

Penny had no idea how long it took her to reach the medical clinic. When she hurried through the double doors, she had no recollection of the route she'd driven or who she might have seen along the way. Nor did she recognize the woman seated at the front desk, although she probably should have.