Change of Heart

by Courtney Walsh

  She shrugged. “There are lots of different kinds of artists, Whit.” She motioned toward the finished pieces. “This is art.”

  “I’m just a farmer with a table saw,” he said.

  “Why do you do that?”

  A question played across his expression. “Do what?”

  “Downplay your talent. You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit. It’s like you don’t even realize how amazing this all is.” She hugged the magazine to her chest. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about who you are.”

  “I could say the same to you.” His hazel eyes challenged her.

  She didn’t like where this was heading. She didn’t want to think about all the ways she’d lost herself.

  “How long has it been since you painted anything?”

  She shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “Ev, when I left school, I thought my life was over. I had to finish at night while I was working the farm. I missed out on that whole college experience, and I resented it for a long time.”

  She tossed her hair behind her shoulder, wishing he’d stop talking and yet feeling like what he had to say was important. If it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be saying it.

  “I could’ve stayed mad. You can stay mad too. You can hide out in the guesthouse and forget how the sunshine feels on your skin. Or you can figure out what you want your next chapter to look like.”

  She should have known that somehow he’d make this about her. “You think I’m going to spend my days painting, Whit? How is that going to pay the bills?”

  He shrugged. “Figure it out.”

  The words jabbed at her like the perfectly placed tip of a sword.

  “My dad never wanted to teach me about woodworking. I had to ask. Because I wanted to know.”

  But what did she want to know? What did she want to do? Who did she want to become? She didn’t have answers to any of those questions.

  She just didn’t want to feel like she wasn’t enough anymore.

  “Figure it out.”

  “Sorry, Ev. But you’ve been moping around long enough. It’s time to dust yourself off and remember what it was you wanted in the first place.”

  His words smacked at her, but she somehow found the resolve to look at him while she calculated a response. Despite the pointed way he spoke, there was kindness in his tone. The sort of kindness that she desperately needed—no strings attached. Whit didn’t want anything from her. He didn’t need her to act or dress or speak a certain way.

  He only wanted her to be her best self. The version he’d known all those years ago.

  Could her detour help her find it again?

  “Why are you doing this, Whit?”

  “I’m sorry if it’s hard to hear, but—”

  She shook her head. “No, why are you helping me? Letting me stay here? Is your sense of loyalty to Christopher so strong you feel you have to take care of his pathetic wife?”

  “I’m not doing this for him,” he said, his voice quiet.

  “Then why? You don’t even like me.” She knew what he thought of her and her way of life. Never mind that he was profiting from people like her with this furniture business he’d built. He’d seen how great her departure from her true self was. That must’ve been why he’d grown so unkind.

  “Is that what you think?” he asked, seemingly confused.

  The door to the barn rattled open, pulling their attention away from each other.

  Maggie stood in the dim light, and confusion washed across her face. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”

  Whit cleared his throat, then moved in Maggie’s direction.

  Evelyn stepped toward the door. “We can finish talking about the hearts later,” she said, trying to figure out why she felt like she’d done something wrong.

  She reached the door and tossed one mindless glance over her shoulder as she passed Maggie and Trevor, only to find him still watching her. And for the first time in as long as she’d known him, Trevor Whitney looked like he might actually have something more to say.

  CHAPTER

  23

  “THAT WAS COZY,” Maggie said, her voice accusing. “What’s going on with you two?”

  “We’re working on a project for the city,” he said.

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “I didn’t realize we had plans today,” Trevor said. A roundabout way of asking her what she was doing there.

  “I was in town,” she said. “Thought I’d stop by and say hi.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I should’ve let you know before I came.”

  “No, it’s fine. Lilian’s making a big lunch for the guys. You should stay.” Even as he spoke, he knew his tone did not sound persuasive.

  Maybe he really was meant to be alone. He was no good at this relationship thing. The truth was, he was thankful Maggie had arrived when she did because having Evelyn in his wood shop threw him off. He craved the solace of this place—the place he came to think and wrestle with God. Evelyn reminded him of past regrets, things he’d prayed through long ago.

  Made him think maybe he had more work to do on closing a chapter he thought he’d already ended.

  It turned out having Maggie in the barn was a completely different kind of unnerving. He didn’t let just anyone in there, and as crazy as it sounded, he didn’t know her well enough yet to allow her to invade this space.

  But that didn’t stop her. She walked over to the furniture. “You made these?”

  He leaned against the workbench. “I did.”

  “They’re amazing.” She strolled up and down the makeshift aisles, touching virtually every single piece. “Really beautiful, Whit.”

  He nodded a thank-you and started toward the door. “You hungry?”

  She followed him outside but stopped a few feet from the wood shop.

  He turned back. “Maggie?”

  “If I’m getting in your way, just tell me, okay?” She shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

  He took a couple steps toward her. “What do you mean?”

  She kicked at the ground. “What’s going on with us? You always seem so preoccupied.”

  Figure it out.

  His own words popped into his head. They’d come out harsher than he intended when he said them to Evelyn. But then they’d always been harsh when his father had spoken them to him too. Dad had no tolerance for Trevor’s pouting, so after one too many days of self-pity over the loss of his traditional college career, his father got right up in his face and said, “Look, Son, figure it out. Time isn’t on our side here, so if you want to go back to school, tell me now and I’ll train someone else.”

  That was the day things turned around for Trevor, the day he accepted that his life looked different than he thought it would.

  Maybe today was a repeat of that lesson.

  Maggie stood in front of him, looking exposed and vulnerable. She was putting her heart on the line just by being there. She’d taken a risk even considering a relationship with him. How long was he going to put his life on hold for something that would never be?

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I do have a lot going on right now. I’m working on some pretty big changes for the farm.”

  “And then there’s Evelyn.” She studied him as if trying to decide whether her words garnered some sort of reaction.

  “I am concerned about her, yes,” Trevor said. “She’s my friend.”

  “And that’s it?”

  He took a step toward her. “That’s it.”

  She looked at him, and he wasn’t sure if she believed him. “Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

  Casey’s similar question rushed back at him. He didn’t have an answer for him then and he didn’t have an answer for Maggie now.

  He’d thought about it, but the memory of the pain he’d caused Rachel always kept him from making a move. “I’m not sure you want to get involved with someone like me, Maggie.”

  She m
oved closer to him. “Why don’t you let me decide that for myself?”

  She was pretty and smart and spunky, and she liked him. She made him laugh. Wouldn’t it be better to be with someone like that instead of chasing the ghost of a memory?

  He reached out and touched her face. She inched nearer, her hands on his chest, eyes intent on his own. Slowly she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her until their lips met.

  Tentative at first, he drew in the scent of her. How long had it been since he’d kissed a woman?

  This was good for him. It had to be.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and deepened the kiss.

  Of course he should pursue this. He should forget Evelyn and invest in what was right in front of him.

  He leaned back for a brief second and studied Maggie’s expression. She wore a breathless look as she searched his face. He couldn’t process the thoughts tumbling around in his mind, so instead he leaned in and kissed her again.

  Figure it out.

  He’d been the lovesick fool one too many times and for too many years. Maggie had come along at the perfect moment, just what he needed to keep him from falling back into old patterns and old habits.

  This is good.

  A stick broke in the distance, and he backed away from Maggie to listen. Could be an animal—a coyote or an elk.

  “We should go in,” he said, taking her hand. “I’m starving.”

  She smiled. “Me too.”

  As they passed the guesthouse, Trevor glanced at the two Adirondack chairs that faced the mountains. Empty. Evelyn sat outside in one every evening. He knew because he checked for the outside lamp that flickered in the darkness until she went indoors. His way of saying good night.

  “Those are perfect,” Maggie said, stopping to admire the chairs and the postcard-worthy setting they created. “Did you make them too?”

  “They were a gift from my parents,” Trevor said, halting beside her. His mother loved those chairs. When she still lived on the farm, they were positioned closer to the main house, but when his parents moved to the retirement community, she’d had one of the farm employees drive them up the hill to the guesthouse for him.

  “I know you won’t move into the farmhouse,” his mom had said. “At least not right away.” She gestured toward the bed of his dad’s pickup truck. “I wanted you to at least have these here. Somehow it’s like your father and I will still be here every night, watching the sun set over the mountains.”

  A part of him was happy to know Evelyn found solace in those chairs, given what they represented to him. Another part of him could only think of sitting in the empty seat next to her as she sorted through the mess her life had become.

  “Trevor?”

  Maggie’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Sorry.”

  She smiled. “Daydreaming again?”

  “Suppose I was.”

  They were the last to reach the white barn, and when they arrived, the crew let out a shout of welcome. Evelyn stood behind the table, helping Lilian with the buffet-style meal. She glanced up at him but quickly turned her attention to a pan of potatoes.

  “Here,” he said to Maggie, “let me take your stuff.”

  She handed him her big, floppy purse as Lilian intercepted her. Trevor set the purse out of the way, but as he did, something caught his eye: a prescription bottle tucked in an inside pocket with the word Xanax on it.

  He didn’t know much about medication, but he thought Xanax was used to treat things like depression. He glanced at Maggie, who stood at the front of the line near Lilian. She was laughing at something one of his employees had said.

  She hardly seemed depressed, but he knew it wasn’t often easy to tell.

  Evelyn, on the other hand, always had an air of sadness about her, though given her current situation, he’d think there was something wrong with her if she didn’t. But in that moment, surrounded by the guys who worked his land, cared for his animals, and sold his crops, Evelyn almost looked like her old self again.

  She gave him a quick smile, then waved her hands around the barn at the group that had assembled to eat Lilian’s meal. She mouthed the words community dinner with a look that said, I told you so.

  He had to admit she might be on to something. Family-style lunch had become one of their favorite things to do for the staff at the farm. Nothing brought people together like food.

  Lilian appeared at his side. “You gonna eat?”

  “I’m thinking about it,” Trevor said. “Wanted to make sure there was enough for everyone first.”

  “You kidding? I made enough to feed a small army,” she said.

  “That’s what it takes to feed these guys.”

  Lilian paused, her desire to say something obvious in the air.

  “Say it.”

  “What?” She looked at him, doing her best to appear innocent.

  He gave her a sideways glance. “You forget how well I know you.”

  She crossed her arms. “It’s good to see Evelyn out of the house; that’s all I was thinking.”

  It was good to see her out and about. In something other than that tattered sweater she’d been living in. “And?”

  Lilian shrugged. “And what?”

  “I know that’s not all you’re thinking. What else is on your mind?”

  “She told me about her ideas for the farm.”

  “And?”

  Lilian looked at him. “I think it’s brilliant.”

  Risky was what it was. They had to work twice as hard as commercial farms already just to break even. Throwing in community meals and events would only add to their overflowing workload. “Do you have time?”

  “To cook? Sure. I’d make time for this place, Trevor; you know that.”

  He did know, but he didn’t want to take advantage. “But how do we get the word out? That’s another full-time job.”

  Lilian gestured in Evelyn’s direction.

  “I don’t know if she’s ready to take on something like that, Lil. Besides, she’s working at Abigail’s.”

  “Are you kidding? She’s been planning events her entire married life. She’s perfect, well connected, and she’s got a great head on her shoulders.”

  That she did.

  “I have a feeling she’d make time for this place too.”

  He drew in a breath. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

  Lilian punched him in the arm. “Not a chance, boss. I promise. You just leave it to us and we’ll get these dinners off the ground.” She shot Evelyn a look and sent her a thumbs-up.

  He had to admit their ideas intrigued him. What if it wasn’t just his hard work that would keep this farm profitable? What if it was these two unlikely allies who had the right vision for Whitney Farms?

  “By the way,” Lilian said, turning to face him, “what’s up with you and the redhead?”

  Trevor glanced at Maggie, who still looked perfectly comfortable chatting with Dale and the others. He shrugged. “Not sure yet.”

  Lilian leaned closer. “Be careful with that one.”

  Trevor frowned. “Why?”

  “I got a sense about these things,” she said softly. “You know I do.”

  That was true. Lilian did seem to have the innate ability to see through people’s facades. “You don’t even know her.”

  “Did I know that Brenner boy your sister brought home from college?”

  Trevor groaned. Thankfully, that relationship had been short-lived. Kyle Brenner was the last thing Jules needed and everyone could see it except her.

  But Maggie? What could Lilian possibly sense about Maggie?

  He brushed her off and moved toward the buffet to see what the guys had left him for lunch, but he couldn’t shake the idea that he should listen to his aunt.

  He just didn’t know why.

  CHAPTER

  24

  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.