The Kings Meadow Romance Collection

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “I needed a change of scenery,” he answered.

  Her dark eyes widened, inviting him to say more.

  He gave her one of his own smiles instead. He knew how to use them too.

  After a few moments of silence, she asked, “Are you shopping for anyone in particular?”

  “My mom.”

  “You’re sure to find something for her. Would you like me to show you around? I know pretty much everyone here.”

  Not exactly subtle. But why not agree? It couldn’t hurt anything, and he’d always appreciated the company of women. Especially a woman as vivacious and attractive as Tess Carter.

  The next hour proved more successful on the Christmas shopping front than he’d expected when he entered the church hall. Tess’s company was more delightful than he’d anticipated as well. As she’d stated, she knew almost everybody, and she made a lot of introductions as they worked their way from booth to booth. By the time Trevor was ready to pay for his purchases, he no longer felt a complete stranger in town.

  A pleasant-looking, heavyset woman in her fifties added up his items, then ran his credit card through a charge gizmo on an iPad. Another woman put everything into bags. Within no time at all, he was ready to leave.

  He looked at Tess, who had waited at the end of the table. “Thanks, Tess. It was a real pleasure.”

  “For me too.” She held out a slip of paper. “Here’s my phone number, in case you ever want some friendly company. It isn’t like there are a lot of entertainment options in Kings Meadow. Especially this time of year.”

  He took the paper and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. Then he bid her a good day and walked out through the doors marked Exit. He was halfway down the hallway when he saw Rodney Cartwright and his daughter standing beside a coatrack, deep in conversation. Penny’s shoulder almost touched Trevor’s coat that hung nearby. He’d bet good money she would move if she knew it belonged to him.

  As Trevor approached, Rodney glanced up and smiled a genuine welcome. Penny turned. Her smile had gone AWOL.

  Rodney said, “Looks like you had a successful morning.”

  “Yes, sir. I did. My Christmas shopping is pretty much done.” Trevor looked at Penny again. “I heard you’re in charge of this bazaar. Great job.”

  “Thanks.”

  Could she have sounded any less pleased by the compliment? He doubted it.

  “I’d better go back in, Dad.” With a silent nod in Trevor’s direction, Penny walked away. He watched until she disappeared into the fellowship hall, then his gaze returned to her father.

  Rodney said, “This isn’t easy for her.”

  “I understand that, sir.”

  “She misses her brother a lot. We both do.”

  So do I. But even as that thought crossed his mind, he knew he didn’t feel the same loss as Brad’s father and sister. Trevor had lost a friend he’d known well for only a matter of months. The Cartwrights had lost a young man they’d loved all his life.

  “Are you sorry you came to Kings Meadow?” Rodney asked, intruding on Trevor’s thoughts.

  “No.” He said the polite thing and then realized he’d spoken the truth. He was glad to be here. Despite arriving less than a week ago, he’d already discovered a certain charm about this small town tucked away in the mountains. No doubt part of the reason was the affection Brad had felt for it. When Trevor and his band were on the road, scarcely a day had passed that the youngest member of their group hadn’t shared a story about his dad or his sister or an old schoolteacher or the woman who ran the bed-and-breakfast or one of his lifelong friends.

  “You’ll see for yourself when you go with me for Thanksgiving,” Brad’s voice whispered in Trevor’s memory. “You’re going to love it there.”

  Trevor hadn’t held out much hope he would take to a place. Any place. He didn’t have a lot of good memories of the place where he’d grown up. It was just another city on the map, his boyhood home just another house on the block. He knew that was because of his father, a man incapable of giving or receiving love.

  Rodney cleared his throat.

  Jerked back to the present again, he said, “Sorry. What did you say?”

  “I heard you’ve been hired on part time with Public Works.”

  “How’d you hear that? I haven’t even had my first day on the job yet.”

  Rodney chuckled. “It’s a small town, Trevor. News travels fast.”

  “I guess.” Brad had warned him of that, but it still surprised him.

  “The mayor’s a good friend of mine,” Rodney added.

  “Ah.”

  “He took a liking to you. I could tell.”

  Trevor couldn’t help but grin. “He’s a colorful character, isn’t he?”

  “That he is. Ollie is one of a kind. One of a kind.” Rodney glanced beyond Trevor’s shoulder. “I think I’d better get in there before everything is picked over. One of the ladies makes the world’s best fudge, and I still hope to get some.”

  “Good luck.” Trevor reached for his coat.

  Rodney took a couple of steps away, stopped, and turned. “Why don’t you come for dinner tomorrow?”

  Trevor almost agreed, but thought better of it. “Maybe you should talk to Penny about that first. We both know she’s not crazy to have me around.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Rodney didn’t smile, but there was something warm in his expression regardless. “Come after dinner, then. Say around two o’clock. I’ll show you around our place.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there.”

  Rodney nodded and turned a second time.

  As Trevor watched the older man walk away, he realized how much he wanted to get Penny Cartwright to accept him—or at least not to hate him. If her father didn’t blame him for Brad’s death, maybe Penny could learn to feel the same. Of course, it might help if Trevor didn’t sometimes still blame himself.

  “They’re gonna . . . need your help.”

  Trevor held his breath, resisting the memory, not wanting to think about those last minutes of Brad’s life. Both of them had known he was dying, but Brad had spent those minutes thinking about others.

  “Promise you’ll go . . . Not just for . . . Thanksgiving. Go and . . . stay awhile. God will . . . show you what to . . . do. Just . . . ask Him.”

  With a shake of his head, Trevor strode toward the exit.

  Before entering the fellowship hall, Rodney paused to look behind him. Something stirred inside his chest as he watched Trevor leave the church. Because his son had liked the singer so much, he was prepared to like him too.

  Help me care for him as You care for him, Lord. Show me all the reasons You brought him to us. Help me honor my son’s friendship with him.

  He released a breath and continued through the entry door. A quick sweep of his gaze located the candy booth, and he set off in that direction. He hoped he wasn’t too late for some of Edna Franklin’s fudge. His disappointment would be acute if he was.

  He’d almost reached the booth when his daughter moved into his path, forcing him to stop. “Dad, you know the doctor said you need to cut back on sweets.”

  “Cut back, not cut out altogether. There are limits, dear girl, to what I’m willing to give up this side of heaven.”

  “Dad . . .”

  He frowned. “I’m not in my dotage, Penny. Please don’t treat me as if I am. And I don’t need you to act like my mother either.” The look in her eyes said he’d hurt her feelings, and he regretted his words, even though he’d spoken the truth. “Sorry, honey, but I can still think for myself.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, hoping the gesture might soften his added comment.

  I know, she mouthed as he stepped back again. Then she gave him a fleeting smile before walking away.

  His daughter was worried about him. And not just about him. Penny seemed to worry about everything. She tried her best to command the events around her, fighting hard to never lose control. Rodney had seen signs of the trait after the deat
h of her mother, but it had worsened in recent years. And after Brad died . . .

  He gave his head a shake, driving off the thought. If he wasn’t careful, he would find himself doing exactly what Penny did. Instead of worrying, he chose to say another silent prayer, this one for his daughter, asking God to heal her heart.

  “Merry Christmas, Rodney.”

  He looked to his right and watched Joe Dodson, the contractor he’d worked for off and on for many years, close the final steps between them. “Same to you, Joe. Haven’t seen you around much. How are you?”

  “Good, thanks. And you?” The man’s eyes said it was more than a casual question, more than an inquiry about the state of his health.

  “I’m all right, Joe. Some days are better than others, but I’m doing all right.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Joe looked away at the sound of someone calling his name. “Looks like Sue’s done shopping.” His gaze returned to Rodney. “I’m wrapping up a job down in Boise. When it’s done, I’ll give you a call.”

  Rodney nodded before his friend hurried after his wife. Then, resolute, he faced the candy booth once again. It wouldn’t be the Christmas season without at least one square of Edna’s fudge, and he sure hoped he wasn’t too late to get it.

  Hours later, Penny dropped onto a folding chair, exhausted. “Over for another year,” she said to herself, then groaned.

  “Everything ran like clockwork, Penny.” Janet Dunn sat on another folding chair nearby. “You have amazing organizational skills.”

  “Must be the librarian in me.” Penny was too tired to laugh at her own comment.

  “You could be right about that.” Janet looked toward the opposite end of the fellowship hall. A tender smile curved her mouth and her face shone with love.

  Penny didn’t have to look to know the cause. The Reverend Tom Butler and Janet—both of them in their forties and never married—had recently become engaged. About time too. They had been dating for around two years, and anybody with eyes had known, long before this, that they belonged together.

  “Have you and Tom decided on a wedding date?”

  Janet looked at her again, smiling. “Am I that obvious?”

  Penny managed to laugh this time. “Yes.”

  “Well, to answer your question, no.” Janet shook her head. “We haven’t decided yet. But we’re considering Valentine’s Day.”

  “Romantic. Can you plan a wedding that fast?”

  “We can. It won’t be anything fancy. Just family and a few close friends.”

  Penny nodded. That’s what she would want, when she found the right guy. I hope it doesn’t take me until I’m forty.

  She was immediately ashamed of herself for the thought.

  Janet rose. “I’d better go see if Tom needs any help.”

  Forty wasn’t old, Penny reminded herself. And even if it was, it would be better to wait until forty than to rush into marriage with the wrong person.

  That made her think again of Tess Carter’s hasty, ill-fated marriage. Which—against her will—brought her thoughts back around to Trevor. Had he and Tess hit it off? They must have. Tess had stayed beside him the entire time he shopped. Not that Penny had paid attention to that particular detail. But as she’d moved about the room, she couldn’t help but notice them together, both of them tall, both of them smiling, both of them attractive.

  Attractive? Trevor Reynolds?

  Well, yes. She had to admit—again against her will—that he was a handsome man. Even more so than in the photograph on his album cover, Stetson covering his dark hair, a Western scene behind him, that smile of his—

  “Give him a chance,” Brad had said to her the last time they spoke on the phone. “Once you meet him in person you’re gonna understand why I love working with him. He already likes you, I’ve talked about you so much.”

  Her heart pinched at the memory.

  And that was Trevor’s fault too. If he hadn’t come to Kings Meadow, if he would have stayed far, far away from her brother to begin with . . .

  Just leave. Just go away. Please go away.

  Chapter 5

  TREVOR CONSIDERED ATTENDING THE METHODIST service his first Sunday in Kings Meadow. He’d learned Rodney and Penny were members there. It would have guaranteed his seeing them at least once each week. But at the last minute he chose to attend Meadow Fellowship, a nondenominational church on the west side of town. Something inside of him said his Sundays needed to be more about him and God and less about him and the Cartwrights.

  By the time the service ended, Trevor knew this would be the church he attended as long as he was in Kings Meadow. Nobody had to tell him that his Christianity—if he’d even been a Christian—had been a superficial thing. Knowing Brad had slowly made him aware of the difference between calling himself a Christian and truly being one. Maybe that was one reason he’d kept his promise to Brad. Maybe it was here that his faith, such as it was, could grow.

  Trevor had met quite a few members of the congregation at the Christmas bazaar the previous day, and it surprised him how many of their names he remembered. Living a life on the road, he’d rarely seen anybody two days in a row, other than the members of his band. He found he liked this fledgling sense of community.

  He received three invitations to Sunday dinner before he exited through the church doorway. He declined each of them. It would be rude to eat and then rush off in order to be to the Cartwright ranch by two o’clock. So he returned to his studio apartment, where he warmed up some leftovers. He tried not to think about what he might have been eating if he’d accepted one of those invitations.

  When he next looked outside, two o’clock drawing closer, the blue skies from early that morning were gone. The wind had begun to whistle around the corners of his apartment. A strong gust rattled the windows. He left his Stetson on the hook by the door and reached for the knit cap and scarf his aunt had made for him a couple of years back. Still, he wasn’t prepared for the extreme drop in temperature that had happened while he was inside.

  The streets of Kings Meadow were extra quiet on this Sunday afternoon, and as far as he could tell, only a few stores were open along Main Street. At least no Christmas shoppers were in sight when he stopped at the stop sign. All he heard was the mournful wind and the rumble of his truck’s engine. Loneliness wound around his heart, and he realized that despite how friendly people had been to him at church that morning, he wasn’t a part of that community—or a part of any other community. By his own choice, he’d kept himself from forming close relationships through the years. Brad Cartwright had been one of the few people who had found a way through Trevor’s defenses.

  He turned his truck east and drove beyond the limits of town. Snow began to fall when he was about halfway to the ranch. Tiny flakes, carried sideways by the wind, obscured his view and forced him to go even slower, afraid he might miss the turn. But he didn’t miss it. Despite the snowstorm, the way felt familiar to him.

  Arriving at the ranch, he parked in front of the house, got out of the pickup, and hurried up the steps to the front porch. He rang the doorbell and waited. The door was opened a short while later by Penny. Her expression was one of grudging resignation. She didn’t want him in her home, but because of her father she wouldn’t turn him away.

  Did I think I could win her forgiveness in a matter of days?

  Yes, in some ways, he supposed that was what he’d thought. Most women believed he had charm to spare. Plenty found him good looking and talented and fun to be around. But none of that mattered one iota to Penny Cartwright. It was clear as day. In her cool blue eyes. In the stern line of her mouth. In her rigid stance.

  “Come in, Mr. Reynolds,” she said, frost in her voice. “Dad’s waiting for you.”

  He wanted to remind her to call him Trevor, but he swallowed the words as he stepped into the house while removing his knit hat. Penny closed the door and then silently held out her hands to take his coat after he’d shrugged out of it. She placed it on t
he coat tree and his hat and scarf on a nearby table.

  Her dad appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. “Trevor, glad to see you could make it. How are the roads?”

  “Not bad.”

  “Care for something warm to drink before we brave the elements?”

  “Sure.”

  “Coffee okay?”

  Trevor nodded.

  The older man waved him forward before turning and moving out of sight. Trevor followed, thinking to himself that Rodney was like his son in many ways. Brad had had an affable, hospitable nature too. No one had been a stranger to him. At least, not for very long. He’d had true empathy for those around him, no matter who they were. And when Brad had spoken of his family back in Kings Meadow, his love for his dad and sister had been obvious.

  By comparison, Trevor’s relationship with his father had always been troubled, cold, and distant. After he left for Nashville, on those rare occasions when he’d spoken with his father by phone, there had always come a moment when his father would ask, “When are you going to get a real job? When are you going to make something of yourself?”

  His father had passed away a number of years ago, but the memory of those questions remained a pinprick to Trevor’s heart. With practiced resolve, he pushed the thoughts away and let his gaze roam the room, looking for something to keep his thoughts from returning to those uncomfortable memories.

  The kitchen in the Cartwright home was large and airy. The breakfast nook had bay windows that looked out on a fenced pasture where several horses stood, backs to the wind and snow. While Rodney filled two large mugs with coffee, Trevor crossed to a curio cabinet in one corner. Behind the glass were family photos, china and crystal, knicknacks, and a large collection of thimbles.

  “The thimbles belonged to my wife, Charlotte.” Rodney stopped on Trevor’s left. “Some of them are rather valuable, but I can’t bring myself to sell them. She enjoyed them so much.” He held out the mug of coffee.

  Trevor took it. “My mom collects those lighted villages.”

  “Where do your parents live?”