© 2002, 2013 Shannon Guymon
All rights reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. The views expressed within this work are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Cedar Fort, Inc., or any other entity.
ISBN 13: 978-1-4621-1180-0
Published by Sweetwater Books, an imprint of Cedar Fort, Inc.
2373 W. 700 S., Springville, UT 84663
Distributed by Cedar Fort, Inc. www.cedarfort.com
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Guymon, Shannon, 1972-
A trusting heart / by Shannon Guymon.
pages cm
ISBN 1-55517-620-8
1. Class reunions--Fiction. I. Title.
PS3613.C3582F737 2012
PS3607.U96 T78 2002 813’.6--dc21
2002006810
Cover design by Angela D. Olsen
Cover design © 2013 Lyle Mortimer
Typeset by Shelby Boyer
Printed in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
About the Author
Back Cover
One
Why am I doing this? she asked herself for the tenth time in the last five minutes. She looked down at her shiny, silver polyester skirt she had bought at Wal-Mart just that morning especially for the occasion. It was a good thing polyester had come back in style. It was the only material her bank account approved of. She sighed and tried not to wince. Her Calvin Klein days were long gone. And to think ten years ago she had taken labels like that for granted. She looked in the mirror one last time. What would they see when they looked at her? How would they label her this time? She wasn’t a cheerleader any longer and she wasn’t Dylan Carlisle’s arm ornament either. Maybe there would be no labels this time; maybe they would see her.
Megan Garrett ran the brush through her long honey brown hair and touched up her light makeup. Solemn green eyes stared back at her through the mirror. Ten years ago her eyes had been blue. Her mother’s voice echoed through her thoughts, If you want to be a cheerleader, then you have to look the part. And if you want your father to be proud of you, you’ll be a cheerleader. Megan shook her head to clear away the memories. This was who she was now, and she wouldn’t go back to the old Megan Garrett for anything or anyone.
Her classmates probably wouldn’t even recognize her. Not that she’d had plastic surgery or been in a disfiguring accident or anything, but take away the blond, permed hair, deep tan, blue contacts, and about a pound of makeup, and what was left was a completely different kind of person. Someone she could be proud of. Someone she even kind of liked. The thought stilled her hand. What if she showed up tonight and sat in a corner because no one made the connection between the gorgeous, bubbly cheerleader and the completely natural, conservative person she had become? A smile relaxed her face for the first time in hours. She’d always wanted to be a fly on the wall at Jefferson High School; maybe tonight would be her chance. And to think she had been seriously considering ditching her ten-year reunion to stay home and read a good book. She wouldn’t miss this party for the world.
* * *
She drove her 1985 faded green El Camino into the parking lot of the Landry Hotel. Oh, great! she thought. Valet parking. As if she had money for a tip tonight after splurging on clothes. Megan sighed in exasperation as she handed her keys over to the smirking attendant and noticed that his derision of her car didn’t pass on to her legs. She squared her shoulders and walked into the lobby of the elegant hotel. There were enough marble pillars and faux Greek statues for a remake of Spartacus. Why couldn’t the reunion have been held in the old school gym? she grumbled under her breath. And why am I starting to feel like an old piece of chewed-up gum? Megan’s pace slowed as it dawned on her that everyone she saw was dressed in tuxedos and formals. Everyone except her.
She veered to the right instead of heading for the ballroom, where everyone else was going. Pausing behind an unnaturally large potted palm tree, she ripped the invitation from her purse. Where did it say the evening was formal?! She would look like a fool. Megan scanned the now-wrinkled paper, finally noticing the very small, neat black letters on the bottom left-hand side of the paper: “Formal attire suggested.“
She leaned back and closed her eyes, then banged her head in frustration against the wall. At least the oversized plant was shielding her from everyone. She would die if anyone she knew recognized her now. There was no way that she was going to humiliate herself tonight. She’d had enough humiliation to last a lifetime. No, thank you.
Easing away from the wall, she tried to blend in with the shadows as she headed for the exit, pasting a serene and completely fake smile on her face and trying to act as if she had no idea there was a school reunion going on. Who had ever heard of Jefferson High School? Besides that, who had ever heard of Megan Garrett?
Megan was so busy looking calm, yet purposeful, she didn’t even notice the man standing in the shadows on the opposite side of the foyer watching her. But he could see that she was leaving and he wasn’t about to let that happen. Taking the woman beside him by the hand, he glided smoothly over to intercept her.
“Well, if it isn’t Megan Garrett,” Dylan Carlisle drawled. Megan stumbled back, aghast to see the man she had once believed herself to be in love with. He was still handsome, only more so now that he was older. He had been a pretty boy in high school; now he was just plain gorgeous. His blond hair was swept back, still thick and full, and his blue eyes looked silver. He really should have been a model. At least that’s what he had always told her.
Megan glanced past his left shoulder and noticed a woman who was trying her best to go unnoticed. Turning slightly, Megan looked into the nervous eyes of Taffie Barlow Carlisle. They had been co-captains of the cheerleading squad together and had been best friends. Keyword: had.
“You remember Megan, don’t you, Taffie? She’s the one who humiliated me in front of all my friends and family. To think I actually thought I loved her once! Taffie, hand me a piece of gum will you? I’m getting a bad taste in my mouth.”
Megan blinked as Taffie dug into her evening bag, searching as if her life depended on it. Not three seconds passed before she placed the gum in Dylan’s outstretched hand. He chewed the gum a
few moments before he continued.
“I have to say I’m surprised you even showed up tonight. I didn’t think you had the guts. But now that I see you standing here . . . ” Dylan let his gaze fall to her PayLess clearance shoes, up to her Wal-Mart skirt and blouse, and settled at last on her face. It was obvious she had come up lacking. He smiled slowly, which brought a malicious warmth to his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“Hmm. This might not be so bad after all. As a matter of fact, this is going to be perfect,” he sneered.
Megan opened her mouth for the first time since coming face to face with her ex-boyfriend, and ex-fiancé.
“Excuse me, but I left my cell phone in the car.” Megan turned to flee but was stopped by Dylan’s harsh laughter and tight grip on her arm.
“Forget about your phone, Megan. You’re coming with us. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you missed even a second of tonight’s festivities.”
Megan shook off his hand and glared up into the eyes of the man she had come so close to spending eternity with.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Dylan. Not then, not now, not ever. Don’t worry though, I’m not leaving. I wouldn’t miss this reunion for anything, not even for you. And since I don’t plan on mingling with you two tonight, I’ll just leave you with one bit of advice if you want to have a good time: stop living in the past and get over it.”
As she preceded them into the ballroom, she decided she’d rather be cleaning toilets. In fact, seeing all the glittering, polished women in their exquisite formals, she wished she could trade the whole evening in for a men’s locker room of dirty toilets.
She forced herself to walk nonchalantly over to the table of name tags, but couldn’t help an involuntary groan when she saw they all had pictures from their senior year attached. If the tags hadn’t been laminated, she would have torn her picture off. She stuck her name tag up high on her shoulder, hoping that her hair would hide it, then scanned the ballroom for a possible escape. Noticing a fire exit on the opposite side, she moved swiftly around the groups of laughing, smiling people, she once knew and vowed that she would make it up to them at their twenty-year reunion.
“Hey, I noticed you when you walked in with Dylan and Taffie. I can’t read your tag, but you look so familiar. What’s your name?”
Megan knew it would be rude to keep walking. She was desperate, but she wasn’t rude. She turned to answer the tall attractive woman who had waylaid her and squealed, grabbing the surprised woman in a bear hug, laughing in delight. “Brenna!”
“I must have a really bad memory, because I just can’t place your name.” The woman gasped out, after having all the air squeezed out of her lungs.
Megan grinned at the confusion and pulled the hair off of her name tag. “Let me help you out a little.”
Brenna leaned in closer, squinting in the dim light. “Megan Garrett! No! It can’t be you.”
Brenna stared at her for the longest time, making Megan wish she had checked her teeth for lettuce. She couldn’t be that different. She had wanted to go unnoticed tonight, but Brenna’s apparent disbelief was a little disconcerting. Megan started to reach for her driver’s license when she was stopped by Brenna’s arms gripping her shoulders.
“I had no idea you were so beautiful. I mean, you were always cute, but look at you now!”
Megan’s mouth dropped. This woman was insane. It had been approximately two and a half years since anyone had paid her a compliment, and she hadn’t believed the clerk at the gas station then either.
“Um, thanks. So how have you been Brenna? Did you get your medical degree so you can save the world?”
Brenna still looked stunned momentarily, then laughed. “Well, no. I ended up getting married my third year in college. I had to drop out to support my husband. Four kids and a dog later, here I am.”
But Megan could tell from the happy sparkle in Brenna’s eyes that she didn’t regret her choice at all. She glanced at her own bare left hand, regretting that she had never found anyone that could make her eyes sparkle like her old friend’s.
“Megan, what happened to you? I mean, you’ve changed so much. Are you married, divorced, widowed? Are you working? Where do you live? And how do you stay a size six?”
Megan laughed, remembering the fun conversations they’d had as chemistry partners. She would have flunked chemistry flat out if it hadn’t been for Brenna Colburn. And Brenna had made it so fun that Megan had even looked forward to fifth period. It was too bad they hadn’t stayed close. There had been many times in her life since graduation when Megan had needed a good friend.
“Okay, I’m not married and never have been. I’m a real estate agent now. I live in Lehi. And my rotten, evil pest of a dog eats all my food.”
Brenna laughed, hugging Megan happily.
“That’s what I always liked about you. You were always so literal.”
Megan smiled back at Brenna, noticing the changes in her friend as well. Whereas Megan had stopped bleaching her hair, Brenna had added red highlights to her dark brown hair. And while she wasn’t a size six, she had filled out very attractively. She looked wonderful. And she wasn’t wearing a formal either. She was wearing a very classy suit. What a relief! thought Megan.
“So where’s your husband? I’d like to meet the man who could take on the brain of the century.”
Brenna snorted, nodding over to the buffet table.
“They’re serving shrimp—where else would he be? He’s addicted to seafood in the very worst way. But I do love him. Oh, you know him! Don’t you remember Jack Harrison? No? Well, I remember he used to have the most enormous crush on you! It used to make me so mad since I always knew I was going to marry him someday and you didn’t even know he existed.”
Jack Harrison. Megan had absolutely no clue, so she just nodded her head and smiled.
Brenna’s mouth quirked up on one side. She had always been able to read Megan like a book. Everyone else had only seen what Megan had wanted them to see, but Brenna had always enjoyed looking deeper. She‘d been rewarded for it by discovering a very kind, genuine person.
“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you supposed to marry Dylan Carlisle? I think I even got a wedding invitation in the mail. I would have come, but I had just accepted a job as a nanny for the summer in New York. So what happened?”
Megan cleared her throat uncomfortably, glancing around the ballroom, wishing desperately for an interruption. Nothing.
“We didn’t get married.”
Brenna frowned at Megan and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah.”
Megan’s shoulders relaxed and she laughed. She really laughed.
“Oh, Brenna. Take me to lunch some time and I promise to spill my guts for you.”
“I’m already planning on it. You’ll have to settle for McDonald’s though.”
Brenna grabbed her planner out of her purse and wrote down Megan’s phone number and address. They only lived twenty miles away from each other.
As Brenna made her way back to her husband, Megan smiled and turned away to continue her escape. Dress and Dylan aside, running into Brenna had made tonight worth it.
Megan scanned the crowd for any more potential delays or obstacles and then, once again, headed for the exit. She didn’t feel the overwhelming urge to start screaming and running at the same time, but she still felt very uncomfortable. She should have assumed Dylan would be here. At the very least, she should have come up with a date. Not that she was having the best of luck in that area lately. It had been three and a half months since her last date and there wasn’t any sign of that pattern changing anytime soon.
An unexpected hand on her arm made her jump, as tense as she was. Embarrassed, she nevertheless forced herself to relax and smile as she turned toward the next classmate to seek her attention. Immediately, she felt her cheeks burn. Dylan again. She wasn’t even surprised.
“Ah, Megan! Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you. Feeling a littl
e nervous tonight perhaps? Afraid no one will recognize you? You remember all of our old crowd, don’t you? Let’s see if they remember you.”
Dylan laughed as he pulled her toward a group of people standing nearby. This was almost more than she could stand. It had been over for years now. He was married. She wondered if he was still active in the church. Or had her rejection of him at the last moment caused him to fall away entirely from his beliefs? Their beliefs.
“Hi, Mark. Hi, Kurt. Connor, Dan, Nick.” She did her best to smile at the men and their wives.
Mark, who had always been kind to her in school, reached out his hand and shook hers politely.
“Hi, Megan. It’s good to see you again. This is my wife, Cleo.”
Megan felt her hands begin to shake and knew she was very close to crying. She had to leave quickly, but with Dylan’s hand still on her arm, she was imprisoned. Thinking quickly, she stomped on Dylan’s foot as hard as her high heels would allow and smiled in relief as he let go of her arm quickly.
“It was nice to see all of you guys again,” she said. “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”
She turned blindly and headed in the opposite direction of Dylan. She had to get away from him. But she wasn’t quick enough to out-distance his voice.
“Hey, Megan, where’s your date tonight? Or did you stand him up, too?”
Megan stopped in her tracks, stunned by Dylan’s rudeness.
She turned to stare at Dylan, her mouth gaping open. How could anyone be so cruel? The crowd of ex-cronies dispersed quite suddenly from around Dylan, leaving him gloating. It was clear he was enjoying himself. He evidently wanted to humiliate Megan in front of an audience, and he was doing a fine job of it. Taffie gave her an apologetic glance before grabbing her husband’s arm and pulling him away. Megan stood by herself, stunned by the verbal attack. She couldn’t move. If she did, she felt like she would break into a thousand pieces.
“Excuse me,” said an unfamiliar, though not unpleasant voice.
Megan closed her mouth slowly, wondering who in the world would want to talk to her after witnessing such a scene. She looked around.
A Trusting Heart Page 1
