“Well, it’s too late for that.”
Blood rushed to Trevor’s face, growing more irritated by the second after her snide remark. “Why do you care so much anyway? You’ll be leaving in a month and then you’ll need someone to take care of the business.” He pointed to himself with a proud grin. “Me.”
“That’s still up for debate,” Charlotte spit out and put her hands on her hips.
Trevor’s eyes sparked in anger. “It’s not really up to you, is it? Tom and Bridget tried to do what was best for Emma and the stables. However, you don’t seem to care very much about your sister’s wishes or what’s best for Emma, do you? You’re going to take her to London…away from the only home she’s ever known. Sounds very selfish to me.”
“And what makes you an expert on how to care for my niece all of a sudden?”
“I’m not an expert. I just know what it feels like to be an orphan…to have everything you love ripped right out of your hands in the blink of an eye!” he blurted out and then stopped himself from saying any more things he’d regret. She was a rich, irritating city girl and they didn’t see eye to eye on about anything, but she didn’t deserve his wrath. They were both grieving and vulnerable right now. However, looking at Charlotte’s face, he knew he’d already said too much and couldn’t take his angry words back. Her eyes were wide in surprise and then they narrowed in anger. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something else but then closed it again. He’d obviously struck a nerve with his statement.
Trevor turned away from her to watch the cotton-like flakes falling from the sky. His thoughts screamed so loudly in his ears that he barely heard Charlotte enter the house and slam the door behind her.
Alone, Trevor let out a despondent sigh, wishing he’d controlled his temper, but it was too late now. The damage had already been done.
Charlotte came back into the house, still fuming, but managed to say goodbye to all the guests in the house and see them out the door. Finally able to breathe normally again, she walked into the kitchen and found Laina sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee. Charlotte still stewed over her argument with Trevor, but she wasn’t ready to explain everything to her just yet. Instead she kept her mouth shut, prepared a cup of tea for herself and managed a tired smile in Laina’s direction while sitting across from her at the table. “Thank you for everything you’ve done the past few days.”
“Oh, of course,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It was the least I could do. After all, Bridget was my best friend. I wanted to honor her memory. She was such an amazing friend.”
Charlotte nodded and wiped a single tear from her eye. “Yes, she was pretty amazing. One of a kind.”
They sat in silence for a few moments before asking about Emma.
“She went to bed early, right after most of the guests left,” Laina told her.
“Avoiding me,” Charlotte said, furrowing her brow.
Laina shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think that’s it. She’s been like this for several days.”
“Did she at least eat something?”
Laina shook her head sadly. “Maybe a few bites. Don’t worry though. She’ll come…”
Charlotte didn’t wait for Laina to finish her sentence. Instead she headed toward the stairs with a stubborn set to her jaw. “Well that simply won’t do. I’m going to try and talk to her.”
“Charlotte, I wouldn’t…”
She turned and looked in the other woman’s direction with a determined gleam in her eye. “I’m not going to let the day pass by without at least telling my niece goodnight. She’s going to have to talk to me sooner or later.”
Laina threw her arms up in surrender. “Okay, whatever you think is best. Just be prepared…she’s dealing with a lot of hurt and anger right now.”
Charlotte gave a quick nod, faking confidence before turning and heading up the stairs. “You can do this, Charlotte. You can be the supportive aunt,” she whispered. However, as she reached Emma’s closed door and knocked, her courage waned. She knew very little about her niece. She had been five the first time they met. Back then, Emma loved swinging and talking up a storm about her horse. That was about all Charlotte remembered.
After about ten seconds without an answer, she knocked a little louder. “Emma…it’s Aunt Charlotte. Can I come in?” After another ten seconds, she slowly opened the door and walked in, hoping she wasn’t pushing her niece too far. The room was almost completely dark, except for a dim nightlight on the nightstand by Emma’s bed. Charlotte could barely make out shelves on the wall with horse figurines and a few trophies. As she got closer, she saw the shadow of her niece’s still form underneath the covers. She had the quilt pulled up all the way to the top of her head. Only the little girl’s brown ponytail was visible, resting on the pillow.
Charlotte sighed and took a seat on the edge of Emma’s bed, careful to sit gently enough not to startle the girl. She had a feeling that her niece wasn’t really asleep so she started talking, hoping that something would get through to her. “I know this has to be hard…and you feel like your entire world is upside down,” she said just above a whisper. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling, but you still have so many people that care about you, Emma. I can’t promise you that I’ll be the perfect guardian and I’ll never be able to replace your parents…but I can promise to do my very best. Do you think you can give me a chance?”
Charlotte allowed a minute of silence to pass by to let her words sink in. Then she decided to speak again. “Emma…sweetheart…you really need to eat. Do you want me to bring you up a tray?” She reached over to touch Emma’s shoulder under the blanket. However, Charlotte jumped when she touched something soft and fluffy instead of a person. She pushed harder and it gave way even more. Charlotte gasped and threw back the quilt. Instead of her eight-year-old niece, she found two pillows and an expertly stacked pile of stuffed animals in the shape of a little girl. What she had thought was Emma’s ponytail had been an actual stuffed animal pony’s tail. It would have been a little comical if Charlotte hadn’t been completely terrified, wondering what had happened to her niece.
“Emma?” Charlotte called while flipping on the light. When there was no answer she ran frantically down the hallway, checking all the rooms. Then she rushed back down the stairs.
Trevor met her halfway with Laina in tow. “What’s wrong?” he asked, eyes wide with concern. “I heard yelling all the way outside. Although Charlotte was still a little put out with him for being so secretive, she quickly filled him in. Then all three of them searched every nook and cranny of the house. After about ten minutes, Trevor stopped and ran his fingers through his short dark hair. “Wait…I know where she is. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before.”
Charlotte stared at him with a bewildered frown. “Where?”
“Her favorite place in the world…”
Trevor rushed out into the dark snowy night with a pounding heart. The weather that had brought peace to his soul just minutes before now filled him with terror. He tried to act confident in front of Charlotte and Laina, but in truth, he was just as scared as they were. That’s why he asked them to stay in the house and wait for him. What if he was wrong? Emma was a little girl who was grieving and confused after the loss of both parents. Who knew what she could be capable of doing? The temperature had started to plummet, making it even more dangerous for a little girl all by herself. In his desperation, Trevor did something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He started to pray.
“God…please let her be there. I’m sorry. I promised I would watch over her, but I failed. Please…please keep her safe.”
He climbed over the wooden fence. Then the light from his flashlight bounced up and down as he ran across the snow-covered pasture. When Trevor reached the stables, he could barely breathe. Sure enough, the door was unlocked and he traveled down the line of stalls as quietly as he could, not wanting to startle the horses or Emma if she was there as he suspec
ted. He stopped after reaching Buttercup’s stall and aimed the beam of his flashlight over the door.
“Thank you, Lord,” Trevor whispered, seeing Emma fast asleep and wrapped in a blanket on top of the straw. Buttercup whinnied and he patted the side of her head, whispering softly in her ear. “Thank you my friend. You watched over her, didn’t you?”
The horse bobbed her head up and down and snorted, as if she knew exactly what he was saying.
After taking a few moments to calm his pounding heart, Trevor opened the stall door and carefully gathered Emma in his arms. The poor little girl was so exhausted she didn’t even stir. When he came out of the stables, she started to shiver so he tucked the blanket more tightly around her.
“Daddy?” the little girl mumbled, still half asleep.
“No…but it’s going to be all right, Emma,” he whispered. “Let’s get you somewhere warm.”
“Uncle Trevor…” she murmured groggily as her eyes fluttered open, finally seeming to recognize him.
Trevor nodded with a faint smile, liking the name even though he was technically her cousin. “Things are going to get better, Emma. I promise.”
“Okay,” she agreed and rested her head against the inside of his shoulder as he carried her back toward the house.
Chapter Five
After Trevor returned with Emma in his arms, Charlotte had never been so relieved in her life. As their eyes met, she knew that they both were sorry for their previous argument. None of that mattered anymore. Emma was their only concern.
He brought the little girl back to her bedroom and after he left, Charlotte rested on the floor of her niece’s room with a pillow and blanket for the rest of the night, afraid to let her out of her sight. Unable to sleep a wink, she found the letter from Bridget in her pocket and used the light from her phone to read it.
Charly,
This is the hardest letter I’ve ever had to write and I hope you will never have to read it, but if you are, it means I’ve passed away and now you are now the guardian for my daughter. I know this is probably a shock since we live on separate continents, but Tom and I feel confident in our decision. I have so many fond memories of our childhood. You have always been a wonderful big sister and protector even when my own mother didn’t seem to care. For this reason, I know you are the right person to be my daughter’s guardian. I realize it will take time for both of you to adjust. It won’t be easy, but please be patient with my Emma. She can be terribly stubborn like me, but on the flip side, very loving, kind, silly and smart—the best parts of Tom and I. She’s my heart. And now you’re the guardian of my heart. Please pass on our family memories and remind her that her biological parents loved her very much. But most of all, please love Emma as your own daughter.
Love Bridget
Charlotte wiped her eyes and refolded the letter. Then she hugged it close to her heart. “Oh Bridge,” she whispered into the dark void. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this…but I promise that I’ll try my best.”
When the sun rose bright an early the next morning, Charlotte was still there when Emma opened her big, beautiful, sky blue eyes—Bridget’s eyes. She looked scared at first, obviously remembering what had happened the night before. “Aunt Charly…I…”
She stopped her and offered a kind smile. Something about the way she said the nickname Bridget had given her made Charlotte’s heart soften even more. “I know you’re sorry, Emma…and we will talk about what happened later. But right now, what do you say we start over?”
The little girl’s face relaxed as she wiped a single tear from one eye. Then she gave her aunt a slow nod.
“So…what’s your favorite breakfast food?”
Emma cracked a hint of a smile and whispered, “Blueberry pancakes.”
Charlotte gulped down her apprehension and managed to smile back, in spite of being reminded of her limited cooking abilities. However, if Emma was willing to give her a chance, than Charlotte was willing to try her hand at cooking breakfast. “Okay, pancakes it is,” she agreed.
Ten minutes later they were downstairs in the large country kitchen, whipping up some breakfast. While they waited for the electric griddle to heat up, Emma got out all the ingredients for the pancakes, including fresh farm eggs and a bag of handpicked frozen blueberries. The rest of the mix came from a box, but Charlotte was still impressed with how well her niece got around the kitchen. She remembered Bridget having quite an interest in cooking, so maybe that was where Emma got it from.
After mixing the ingredients together, in a large glass measuring cup, they started pouring the batter onto the preheated griddle. Then Charlotte turned on the radio while they waited for the pancakes to bubble up. It was set to a country station—not exactly Charlotte’s cup of tea but Emma started singing right along to it, so she left it alone.
When it came time to flip them, Charlotte made a valiant attempt but the pancake folded in half and ended up looking like an odd-shaped, brown taco instead. “Well, I guess that one’s mine,” she said while chuckling at her mishap. “Here, why don’t you give it a try?”
“Sure,” Emma said with a wide grin as her aunt handed her the spatula. Then with a quick bend of her wrist she flipped the pancake up in the air like a pro. It landed back on the griddle on the same spot perfectly.
Charlotte’s mouth hinged open in surprise. “Where did you learn how to do that?”
“My mom. She always let me help in the kitchen,” Emma said with a gleam of pride in her eyes. Then her expression turned sad as she flipped another.
“It’s a good way to remember her, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Emma said, eyes downcast.
Charlotte gulped down her own emotions, trying to keep things upbeat. “Will you show me how to do your little pancake trick?”
Emma nodded, perking up a bit. “It’s all in the wrist,” she explained while demonstrating. “You want to keep your hand steady and flip it quick, without thinking too much. My mom always said over thinking takes the fun out of things.”
“Right you are,” Charlotte agreed, marveling at how smart and articulate her niece was at such a young age—the spitting image of her mother in almost every way.
“There, now you try,” Emma said as she handed the spatula back to her.
Charlotte let out a nervous chuckle, lifted the pancake with the spatula and attempted to flip it the same way Emma had. However, she flipped her wrist a little too hard and the half-cooked pancake hit the window instead. Both of them stared at each other with wide eyes for a moment before dissolving into laughter as it slid down the glass in slow motion while leaving a trail of sticky batter in its wake. “I’m going to try that again,” Charlotte said and tried her hand at flipping another. This time it flipped onto the sink, splattering her niece’s apron with sticky batter.
Emma laughed, dipped her pinky finger in some batter and smeared it on Charlotte’s cheek. “There, now we’re even, Aunt Charly.”
Charlotte gasped in surprise at first, but then a goofy grin spread across her face as she flung a little extra flour in Emma’s direction. Then the game was on as they chased each other around the kitchen, flinging ingredients until they both collapsed onto the floor in a pile of giggles.
That’s how Trevor found them. Charlotte hadn’t even heard him come in because of the music but when she looked up, she saw him standing in the corner of the kitchen with an amused grin on his handsome face. “Well, I came in to see how you two ladies were faring this morning, but now I see it’s even worse than I thought,” he teased. “You’ve been viciously attacked by pancakes, blueberries and flour.”
Charlotte’s cheeks turned cranberry red as she looked down and attempted to tidy herself up. It was useless. She’d have to change clothes and wash her face. “Oh my goodness. I guess we got a little carried away.” She glanced over at Emma who was grinning from ear to ear and decided the mess was all worth it just to see her niece’s beautiful smile.
“Well, don’t let
me stop the fun, but Laina and I were talking this morning and had an idea. Whenever you ladies are done with breakfast and um…cleaning up, would you be interested in going for a little trail ride? It might take your mind off of things and be a fun way for you to learn the layout of the stables and surrounding land as well.”
“Oh, yes!” her niece exclaimed beside her. “Can we, Uncle Trevor?”
Charlotte had started to shake her head, not having ridden a horse in years, but Emma’s excited reply changed her mind. It was the first time she’d heard her niece sound excited about something since Charlotte had arrived. Maybe it would make a good peace offering between her and Trevor after yelling at him the night before. “Sure,” she agreed, trying to hide the apprehension in her voice. “We’ll be ready in about an hour.”
Trevor responded with one of his charming smiles that made her heart skip a beat. “Sounds like a plan,” he said before turning to leave.
Trevor left the farmhouse with a huge grin on his face, remembering how incredibly silly, yet attractive Charlotte looked in the kitchen a few seconds before, in spite of the fact that she was covered in flour and pancake batter.
It was refreshing to see her laughing and smiling instead of the serious, reserved woman he’d met at the airport a few days ago. He realized part of the reason for her solemn attitude was caused by grief over losing her sister. Trevor knew the feeling all too well. He’d had to deal with his own share of sorrow—the deep and hopeless kind he wouldn’t wish on his greatest enemy. Thinking of Charlotte that way erased any ill thoughts he had held toward her the other night. Maybe she would end up being an acceptable guardian for Emma after all, even if they did end up moving to London. He would miss Emma, but maybe her aunt would bring her back during the summer.
As he reached the stables to work with one of his rescued horses, Trevor’s smile faded away and his happiness turned to guilt. First he remembered his grief over losing his cousin, Tom, but then his pain stung even deeper, thinking of someone else—someone he’d once promised his heart to. He remembered very clearly the day he’d placed a ring on her finger and promised, ‘til death do us part.’ However, for Trevor the promise went even beyond death. Could he ever love another woman the same way again? Right now he couldn’t fathom the thought.
Guardian 0f Her Heart (Whispers In Wyoming Book 6) Page 3
