The Kings Meadow Romance Collection

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  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 h
er. “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.

  Dot exclaimed over the gift from Penny and her dad—a picture of the valley taken many years ago by a renowned photographer who’d lived outside of Kings Meadow. Her delight over Trevor’s present was just as obvious. It was a church for her miniature village collection, apparently one she had been wanting for a long time.

  Trevor got a pair of leather gloves from his mom, along with a gift card to a music store, and a belt with a fancy silver buckle from the Cartwrights. The buckle had been her dad’s idea, and Penny hadn’t been any too happy at the time. It had seemed too extravagant . . . especially for him. But she didn’t feel that way anymore.

  As for Penny, the gift from her dad made her laugh—a feminine version of the pair of boots she’d given him and exactly what she’d wanted. From Dot, she received a scarf that would dress up any outfit, the colors perfect for her wardrobe.

  She opened Trevor’s present last. She hadn’t any expectations for what he might give her and yet felt a strange anticipation as she removed the ribbon, bow, and wrapping paper. Inside was a large shoe box, but she doubted he’d bought her the men’s athletic shoes displayed on the side of the box. Curiosity growing, she lifted the lid. Inside were two sky-blue beaded halters, one for an adult horse, the other fit for a foal.

  Trevor leaned toward her. “Hope it doesn’t feel like I gave Harmony the gift instead of you.”

  Her heart thrummed a crazy beat as she lifted her gaze to meet his. “Of course not. I love them.”

  “I got them because they’re the same color as your eyes,” he added softly, so only she could hear.

  Strange. It almost felt as if those words were his real gift to her.

  Brad

  2012

  “IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, PENNY. STAY OUT OF it.” Brad slammed out of the house, his anger continuing to boil as he walked to the truck, hopped in, and drove away.

  It had been like this all summer between him and his sister. Their dad had spent a lot of time playing referee between the two, to no avail. It wasn’t as if Brad hadn’t tried to keep his temper, tried to mend fences, tried to get back to the way things used to be between him and Penny. But nothing he’d tried ever worked for long.

  Their latest fight had started when she’d repeated—for what seemed the millionth time—her plans for his life after he graduated from Boise State. That was still three years away, but she acted like the future was etched in stone—and she was the stonecutter.

  He’d made the mistake of saying, “I don’t know what I’ll do or where I’ll go after college. I may want to take a job someplace besides here or Boise. I’m thinking about Nashville.” He should have known better than to mention Nashville. It was code for “country music,” and they both knew it.

  Things had escalated quickly from there, Penny calling him selfish, Brad calling her a control freak. He’d left before either of them could say anything worse.

  Arriving at a parking area that led to the river, Brad found a place in the shade and cut the engine. Then he got out of the truck and started walking. Fast. With any luck he could burn off the anger and frustration with a good hike.

  Maybe he’d been wrong to listen to Penny’s urging to go for an engineering degree. Maybe that had given her the idea that she was in charge—that he would do whatever she told him to do. It wasn’t too late to change his major. He could study music.

  “You’d end up a teacher, Brad,” Penny’s voice echoed in his memory. “You’ve never said you want to teach. Do you?”

  No, it wasn’t what he wanted. But neither did he want to be an engineer just so he could get a job that paid lots of money. He wanted to be a drummer. He wanted to live and work with other musicians. Why couldn’t she understand that?

  He halted on the path along the riverbank. Closing his eyes, he drew in a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. Once, twice, then a third time.

  I shouldn’t let her get to me that way. I should hold my temper. She’s just trying to help.

  He opened his eyes and looked at the sky. “Okay. So how do I make things better?”

  Leave for college now!

  That wasn’t an answer from God. That was his own thought. And not the right answer. Not really. If he—

  Meooow.

  He looked around.

  Meooow.

  He hadn’t imagined the sound. It was a kitten. A kitten in distress. He stepped off the beaten path and began poking through the underbrush.

  Meooow.

  He found the black-and-white kitten at the base of a pine tree, clinging to the trunk only a few inches above the ground. He doubted it was more than six or eight weeks old.

  “Hey, look at you. How’d you get all the way out here all by yourself?”

  The most probable answer was that the kitten had been dumped here. Or maybe it had escaped being drowned in the river. He knew people did that kind of thing, although he couldn’t understand how they could. Slowly he reached out and gently pulled the kitten off the tree trunk. It wasn’t any too happy, but it was too small to escape his grasp. He turned it around to face him.

  “Hey, look at that tuxedo you’re wearing. Aren’t you a handsome guy? Oops, I think maybe you’re a girl. That’s okay. I like girls.” He grinned. “We’ll call you Tux. What do you think of that?”

  Meooow.

  Brad laughed as he drew the kitten close to his chest. “Yeah. Things are tough all over. But you won’t feel that way when we get home and I get you full of milk.”

  Imagining Penny’s expression when she saw he’d brought home a kitten made him laugh again. His sister tried to like cats but never quite succeeded. Still, maybe Tux would make her forget their latest fight. He could only hope.

  Chapter 17

  THE FOLLOWING SIX DAYS PASSED IN A BLUR. TREVOR was at the ranch more than he was not and felt more and more at home there. With Rodney’s neighbors pitch
ing in, the chores never seemed to take long, which left more time for him to spend with his mom—and when she wasn’t at the library, with Penny. Rodney began to feel stronger with each passing day, faster than anyone had expected, including Rodney himself. He adjusted to the lifestyle changes required of him without complaint. Finally the day arrived for Trevor to drive his mom to the Boise airport for her flight home. Rodney joined him for the drive there and back. He said it was to keep Trevor company. Trevor thought the older man just wanted a couple more hours with Dot. The two had become fast friends.

  Trevor had just returned to his apartment after dropping Rodney at the ranch when his telephone rang.

  “Hey, Trev. How the heck are you?”

  It took him a few seconds to recognize the voice. Not because it wasn’t a familiar one, since it belonged to one of his original band members, Beck Thompson, but it had been a while since they’d talked. Beck had left the band when his wife got pregnant with the first of their three kids. The youngest of them must be three or four years old by now.

  “I’m good, Beck. Doing all right. How about you?”

  “Good. Great. Wife’s fine. Kids are fine. Listen, I’ve been calling your cell phone and sending texts for a couple of weeks. Don’t you ever answer? I finally got this number from your agent.”

  “My mobile phone doesn’t work up here in these mountains. Guess I should call in for my messages via my landline.”

  “Yeah. You should. This is important.”

  Trevor shucked out of his coat and settled onto a chair. “What’s up?”

  “Well, it’s kind of a long story, but the short version is I met a producer who I think might be able to do something for you.”

  How often had Trevor heard words like those before? Seemed like dozens of times in a dozen years. He would hear them, get his hopes up, and then nothing would happen. Nothing big anyway. Nothing that had catapulted him to where he’d wanted to be.