Keeper of the Stars (22 page)

Tears welled in her eyes. “You scared me, Dad.”

“I know. I'm sorry for that. Truly I am.”

“What if you'd been home alone? What if you hadn't been found for hours and hours?”

“But that wasn't what happened, was it?”

They had exchanged similar words yesterday when she'd finally been able to see him. She took no more comfort from them now than she had then.

“Sweetheart, why don't you go attend to whatever you need and come back this afternoon when they release me? You must have a lot to do to be ready for Christmas dinner. We have guests coming.”

She felt her eyes widen in surprise. Didn't he have a clue how sick he was? “Dad, we don't have guests coming. Not now. We weren't even sure you'd be home for Christmas.
The Leonards invited the Simpsons to their house, so they're taken care of. And Dot took charge of the dinner for the four of us, although if we'd wanted them to, your friends would have brought over everything already prepared.”

As her dad's disappointment took hold, he seemed to sink deeper into his pillow.

Penny squeezed his hand. “Nothing matters except that you're on the mend and you'll be home.”

“I'm afraid I've ruined Christmas for everyone.”

“But you haven't, Dad. You'll see.”

He frowned. “I don't suppose peppermint hot chocolate will be on my Christmas menu.”

“No way.” She nearly launched into a lecture on the evils of processed sugars in the diets of Americans. Then she saw the corners of his mouth twitch as he fought a smile. “Oh, you.” She pretended to slap his wrist, even as her own smile blossomed. “Don't you tease me, Dad. Not today.”

“I'll be good. I promise. I won't tease you and I won't ask for hot chocolate.”

She gave him a serious glance. “Heather has a couple of diabetic cookbooks in the bookstore, and Trevor said he would swing over there to get them today.”

Her dad nodded but didn't say anything. Penny wondered if he was thinking of the favorite foods of his that were on the do-not-eat list. She'd certainly thought about their diets—separately and together—and had felt somewhat overwhelmed by the changes ahead.

A rapping sound drew her attention toward the door. As
if summoned by the mention of his name, Trevor stood there, holding his hat in one hand. “Am I intruding?”

“Not at all,” her dad answered. “Come in.”

Trevor stepped to the side of the bed opposite Penny. “How're you feeling, sir?”

“Better. Much better.”

Penny moved back to the chair and sat on it, watching the two men together. Her dad's demeanor had perked up even more. There was a small part of her that wanted to resent how close they'd become in so short a time, but even if she'd tried, she wouldn't have been able to muster that old feeling. It was gone. Gone for good.

It wasn't his fault. Not Brad's leaving. Not Brad's dying
.

It felt good to admit it, and she supposed it would feel even better once she admitted her error to Trevor. She owed him that much.

From the doorway came another voice. “Knock-knock.” Tess Carter stepped into full view. “Hi, Mr. Cartwright. Are you allowed another visitor?”

“Sure.” Penny's dad grinned. “Of course. Come in, Tess.”

Tess moved to stand beside Trevor, but her gaze went to Penny. She nodded a hello.

Penny returned the nod, trying to ignore the sudden discomfort in her stomach.

“Mr. Cartwright,” Tess said, “I was so upset when I heard what happened that I had to come over to make certain you are on the mend.” She briefly touched the back of his hand where it lay atop the white blanket.

“I am. In fact, I'm going home later today.”

“Oh, that's such good news.” Tess turned a smile in Trevor's direction. Then, unexpectedly, she stepped away from him and settled onto a chair next to Penny. “And are you okay, Pen?”

Penny nodded.

“Thank God Trevor was there for you.” Tess glanced toward him again, then in a softer voice added, “He cares so much for both you and your dad.”

Her friend's words caught Penny by surprise. She'd thought Tess was in pursuit of Trevor, and she'd thought Trevor—

“Good morning, Mr. Cartwright.” The nurse—a no-nonsense sort of woman—stepped into the room on the quiet soles of her clean white shoes.

Seeing the blood glucose meter in the woman's hand, Trevor said, “I'll get out of the way, Rodney. See you this afternoon.” To Penny, he said, “Call if you need me for any reason.”

“I will.”

“He cares so much for both you and your dad.”

Although she refused to analyze the reasons why, Penny felt a lightness in her heart that she hadn't felt in days.

Rodney ignored the nurse as she pricked his finger and let the test strip soak up blood. Instead his gaze and his thoughts
were on his daughter. He'd suspected it before this, but now he was certain: Penny had come to care for Trevor. More than she understood, perhaps.

If Penny and Trevor fell in love, if they were to marry, he wouldn't have to worry about the future for his daughter. What would happen to Penny if he died? The ranch would go to her, of course, but she hadn't the physical or financial resources to maintain it for long by herself. She would have to sell the livestock, probably sell the ranch itself. And with it gone, would she even want to stay in Kings Meadow? Not likely.

I should have been better prepared. I should have provided more for her future.

Penny wasn't a child, of course. She was a bright and capable young woman. She would find her way no matter what happened to him. Then again, he didn't have to die in order for the ranch to fall into troubled times. A man could only take the help of friends and neighbors for so long before he had to make tough choices.

He could sell the ranch—lock, stock, and barrel—but just the thought of leaving the home where he'd been so happily married, where he and Charlotte had raised their children, almost broke his heart. Memories overwhelmed him.

Penny looked up. Their gazes met. After a moment, she rose from the chair and came to the side of the bed again. Only after she took hold of his hand did he realize the nurse had finished the test and left the room without him noticing.

“What's wrong, Dad? Are you feeling all right?”

“I'm okay, Pen. Just feeling a bit sentimental, that's all.”

“Sentimental?”

“It's almost Christmas.” True enough, though not the answer to her question.

She squeezed his hand. “You'll be home soon.”

After leaving the clinic, Trevor raced through a list of errands—last-minute purchases at the Merc that his mom had requested, getting the wrapped Christmas gifts he'd kept at his apartment along with a change of clothes for later in the day, a stop at the electronics/hardware/video store in the center of town to pick up a couple of DVDs from Mrs. Hansen—before heading back to the ranch. When he opened the door to the mudroom, the air was rich with the scent of baking. His mom, he could tell, was having a busy day.

“Is that you, Trevor?” she called.

“It's me.” He stepped into the kitchen and set the bags of groceries on the nearest counter. “Something smells good.”

Cookies were cooling on lengths of aluminum foil. Dozens of cookies. Even more of them—frosted now—were on plates covered in clear plastic wrap, topped with a bright Christmas bow.

“I hope those aren't all for us,” he said as he reached for one.

His mom playfully slapped the air near his hand. “You
haven't had lunch yet. And, no, they aren't all for us. I don't want too many kinds of the wrong food to tempt Rodney when he gets home. But I thought it would be a nice way of saying thanks to the men who've helped you and will help you with the horses and cattle while Rodney's recuperating.” She tilted her head slightly to one side as she looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “But you love the ranch work, don't you?”

“Yeah, I do. Took to it like a duck to water, Rodney says.” He was quicker in his reach this time, coming back with an unfrosted snowman in his hand. He grinned in triumph.

His mom tried to look irritated—but failed.

Trevor took a bite of the cookie. “I'm going to get the rest of the stuff out of my truck, then see to some things in the barn. I'll have lunch after the cows are fed.”

“Do you know what time they're expected to release Rodney?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Just sometime this afternoon.”

He returned to his pickup and retrieved the rest of the items from the rear seat—gifts and DVDs in plastic grocery bags, his change of clothes in a duffel bag. Inside the house, he put the gifts under the tree and set the movies on the console holding the DVD player. The duffel bag he left in the entry hall.

A short while later, he entered the barn. Harmony nickered to him from the stall, and he went over to her. “Hey, girl.” He stroked the mare's neck—and thought of Penny. But thinking of her had nothing to do with the horse. He'd
thought about her a lot lately, throughout the day, every day, no matter what he was doing. He couldn't help himself.

“I'm falling in love with her,” he said to Harmony.

The mare bobbed her head, as if in agreement.

“Not exactly the reason God brought me to Kings Meadow.” He pressed his forehead to Harmony's, the way he'd seen Penny do.

Of course, he'd arrived in Idaho not truly knowing what he was doing here, beyond keeping a promise he hadn't meant to keep. He'd come to believe he was supposed to be some sort of help to Brad's father and sister, but even that had seemed nebulous in the beginning. Now the purpose of his sojourn in Kings Meadow seemed so much bigger. Here was where he'd truly begun to walk with Christ. Here he'd found friendship and acceptance and forgiveness.

One thing he knew for certain, he hadn't come here to find love.

A line from one of his mom's favorite movies came to him:
“A bird may love a fish, but where would they build a home together?”
Loving Penny Cartwright felt as impossible as that bird and that fish.

Or did it? He frowned. “Could it be part of Your will, Lord? Is that another reason I'm here? I need to understand.”

With a shake of his head, he backed away from the stall and the horse in it, pivoted on his heel, and headed out of the barn.

It was a quiet Christmas Eve. Just the four of them, Penny and her dad and their two guests. Two guests who had begun to feel more like friends. No, more than that. Like family.

They broke with tradition by staying home from the Christmas Eve communion service and not waiting to open gifts until the next morning. And the surprise for Penny was that she didn't mind breaking tradition. She didn't mind doing something out of the ordinary. Something totally unplanned.

They took turns opening the presents under the tree, beginning with her dad. He loved the fat history book from Trevor, the bag of sugar-free candy and a new tool belt from Dot, and a pair of much-needed work boots from Penny.