Guardian 0f Her Heart (Whispers In Wyoming Book 6)

by Rachel Skatvold

  Charlotte shook her head, banishing the confused thoughts while preparing for her morning devotion. About ten minutes later she padded across the room and opened the shades. Her heart tapped out an unusual rhythm while taking in the sight before her. She still missed the amazing city views from her modern high-rise flat in London, but there was something so refreshing about staring out at the open countryside with grazing horses and snowcapped mountains in the distance. It made her feel alive and free somehow, like the future held unlimited possibilities for her.

  A fleeting thought of Trevor entered her head again—his deep brown eyes full of passion like the evening before, but she quickly dismissed it while heading out of her room and navigating the hallway. One cruel truth remained. They lived in two separate worlds. It would never work.

  She tiptoed to avoid waking Emma. Charlotte wanted to surprise her niece with a nice breakfast—maybe something in her mother’s handwritten recipe book. Then they would have their talk about moving to London. She felt in her heart it was time, reasoning if she told Emma now she would have enough time to adjust.

  Down in the kitchen, Charlotte turned on the same country station they’d been listening to while making pancakes. Then she sat at the table and flipped through Bridget’s recipe book. She grinned when reaching a section labeled, Emma’s favorites. Then, after flipping through a few more pages she found a recipe for breakfast burritos. It sounded simple enough—eggs, milk, shredded potatoes and cheese. Charlotte hummed along with a song on the radio as she gathered the ingredients and found a skillet. Ten minutes later she had the potatoes shredded, accidently nicking her finger in the process. She tossed the potatoes into the skillet with her other hand and then hurried to the bathroom for a bandage.

  When she came back, the kitchen was full of smoke and half the potatoes were badly singed. Charlotte moved them off the heat and opened the window to air out the room. Not soon enough. The fire alarm started blaring. She rolled her eyes and waved at it with a kitchen towel until it shut off. Then Charlotte salvaged what she could of the potatoes and added the eggs to the skillet.

  Just then, Emma came down the stairs rubbing her eyes and still wearing her pajamas. Her nose scrunched up as she entered the large country kitchen. “Aunt Charly? What’s going on? I heard a loud noise and it smells like dirty socks in here.”

  Charlotte sighed in despair but then had to smile at her mishap. “I’m just trying to burn the house down,” she said with a rueful chuckle. “Just kidding, honey. I think I have it under control now.”

  Her niece nodded and yawned as she sat at the table, still not fully awake. Maybe she wouldn’t remember her aunt was a terrible cook…that was, until she tasted the half burnt potato bits and scrambled eggs.

  When the sorry excuse for breakfast looked fully cooked, she sprinkled Colby Jack cheese on top of the mess and called it done. To her surprise, after wrapping it in tortillas and putting it beside some fruit on a plate, it didn’t look half bad.

  They said grace and then Charlotte lifted her burrito, grimacing after biting into it. “Sorry, it’s kind of…crunchy.”

  “It’s okay,” Emma said, trying to be polite. She took a few bites, grimacing the whole time.

  Charlotte had to chuckle. “Emma, you really don’t have to eat that awful thing. Honestly, it tastes like dirty socks too.”

  Her niece nodded and started to laugh along with her. “It really is…awful.”

  At Emma’s brutal honesty, they lost it and laughed until tears streaked down their cheeks.

  Charlotte dabbed at her eyes with a napkin and attempted to pull herself together. “You can grab a breakfast tart out of the pantry if you want to.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Charly!” Emma said and dashed across the room to get one. When she sat back down at the table, she already had the tart unwrapped and a large bite taken out of it.

  “As you can tell, I’m a horrible cook. Don’t worry though. I promise that I’ll hire a nanny that can take care of those kinds of things when we move to…” Charlotte paused and fumbled with words for a moment. She hadn’t meant to blurt that out.

  Emma stared at her with wide eyes. “Move where? What are you talking about, Aunt Charly?”

  She gulped and prayed for the right words before putting her hand over Emma’s. “Sweetheart, there’s something we need to discuss.”

  Chapter Nine

  Trevor rehearsed what he wanted to say to Charlotte while making his way up to the main house. He had barely slept a wink the night before, thinking about the kiss they’d shared on the porch swing. Sure, she had made the first move but he couldn’t erase the guilt radiating through his heart. Would he ever be over his first love, Grace? It felt like a betrayal even though he knew she wanted him to let her go. How could he explain to Charlotte that he was still grieving his dead wife?

  When Trevor reached the house, he had mustered up just enough courage to say what was in his heart, but it wasn’t meant to be. Emma came rushing out of the house with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

  He caught her by the shoulders as she tried to duck past him. Then he knelt in front of her and spoke in a gentle voice. “Emma, what is it?”

  She started to sob against his shoulder. “Oh…Uncle Trevor. She wants to take me away. Aunt Charly…she says I have to move with her to London. I don’t want to go.”

  Trevor gulped back his own emotions and smoothed back the little girl’s hair, trying to comfort her. “It’s going to be okay, Emma. You know, change isn’t always such a bad thing. You might like it in London. Just give it a try.”

  Emma leaned back with wide, tear filled eyes. “I…I thought you were on my side. But you’re just like her!” She jerked herself away from him.

  “Emma please…” he called as she ran off the porch, sobbing. “Come back and talk to me.”

  “Just leave me alone,” she called over her shoulder and ran in the direction of the stables.

  The little girl was almost out of sight when Charlotte came out the door, eyes red and puffy from crying. “I…I finally told her. I knew it…I knew this would happen when she found out.” She sniffled and zipped up her coat with trembling fingers. “I…I have to go try and fix this.”

  She started to head off toward the stables, but Trevor grabbed her hand. “No, Charlotte. Just give her some space. She needs time to process this.”

  “But she can’t…” she started to argue until their eyes met.

  “Believe me. She’ll come around with time. Emma wears her heart on her sleeve and gets emotional quickly. But after some time to think, she’ll be ready to talk.”

  Charlotte nodded, but then dissolved into tears. He had to hold onto her waist to keep her from falling over. “I’m not the right person for this job,” she sobbed. “What was Bridget thinking?”

  Trevor closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get a handle on his own emotions. He held Charlotte closer and breathed in her rose scented perfume, trying to ignore the fuzzy effect the scent had on his brain. “She loved and admired you,” he said just above a whisper. “That’s why. She knew you would love Emma like your own daughter. It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be something that you’ll have to work really hard at, but both of you will find your way eventually. I believe that with all my heart, Charly.”

  Charlotte sniffled harder at the sound of her nickname but then she calmed and leaned back, running her palms over the front of his brown leather jacket. “Thank you for saying that, Trevor. It’s exactly what I needed to hear,” she whispered, pausing with one hand over his heart.

  He covered her hand with his own and gazed into her eyes. “You’re welcome, Charlotte,” he said, carefully pronouncing her formal name to make up for calling her Charly a few moments ago.

  She managed a weak smile and kissed his cheek before leaning back just enough to look into his eyes. “You can call me Charly if you want. The name’s growing on me.”

  “Okay, Charly it is,” he said with a grin and started
to lean closer when he saw Laina approaching out of the corner of his eye.

  They pulled away from each other and Charlotte retreated into the house without another word.

  Laina came up the porch steps, pointing her thumb over her shoulder toward the stables with a confused frown on her face. “What’s going on with Emma? She ran past crying and won’t talk to me. I left her alone with Buttercup.”

  Trevor breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed his chin, hoping she’d missed his intense interaction with Charlotte. “I need to go up to the stables to train my new horse anyway. I’ll keep an eye on her. She just found out that she’ll be moving to London.”

  Laina let out a deep sigh and shook her head sadly, making her blond braid cascade over one shoulder. “I see. Well, I’ll give her some space then.”

  “Yeah,” Trevor agreed as he headed down the porch steps and toward the path to the stables. “That’s the advice I gave Charly too. I think she’ll come around. Although I’ll miss them, I think the move will be a good experience for Emma.”

  Laina almost had to run to catch up to him. When she did, he caught a glimpse of an ornery half grin on her face. “Miss them both, huh? Seems to me you’re a little smitten with Charlotte… or should I say Charly?”

  The sing-song tone of her voice sent waves of irritation through him as he stopped walking and turned toward her. “It wasn’t how it looked.”

  Laina’s lips formed a straight horizontal line as she braced one hand on her hip. “And what’s so bad if it was how it looked? You two would be great together.” He started to argue but Laina talked over him. “I mean, it makes sense. You co-own Morgan Stables, you both love Emma like she’s your own daughter…and there’s obviously chemistry between you.”

  Trevor shook his head hard and huffed in frustration. “None of that matters. She doesn’t want to stay here… and even if she did, I can’t see how it would work between us.”

  “Because you feel guilty about Grace?”

  Memories of his wife flashed through his mind— her flowing raven hair, lovely brown eyes and angelic facial expressions. She never tried to hide her emotions from anyone. How she felt could always be read on her face. She was the kindest, sweetest and most selfless person he’d ever known. He nodded slowly and rubbed his jaw. “Yes. I do feel guilty. I always feel guilty.”

  “And you haven’t even told Charlotte about her yet. Am I right?”

  Trevor nodded. “It just can’t, Laina.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder. “Trevor. It’s been two years. You know she wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer like this. It’s time to let her go. It’s time to let yourself be happy again.”

  Trevor squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to chase away the bittersweet memories. When he opened them again, Laina was still staring at him with her prodding green eyes. He couldn’t take it anymore. “Laina, I don’t want to talk about this right now. Please, just stay out of my business,” he said and escaped to the privacy of the stables.

  Once inside, Trevor leaned against one of the stalls to catch his breath. What Laina had said was true. Now he realized it more than ever. His guilt about Grace went much further than just finding love again. It had to do with being happy. Whenever he smiled, laughed or felt any kind of joy, a deep throbbing in his heart followed—like he’d forgotten her. It had smothered out every good thing in his life. He realized that depriving himself of joy and happiness was poisoning his soul, but he couldn’t help it. He loved Grace too much to let her go.

  Charlotte sat at the kitchen table with her laptop, surrounded by piles of invoices. She’d spent the morning and early afternoon entering all the numbers onto a spreadsheet and reading emails. Charlotte thought that distracting herself with work would prevent her from worrying about Emma. However, she couldn’t stop the guilt that rose up within her. Had she ruined her relationship with her niece permanently?

  Charlotte was just about to close her laptop for a break when a new email popped up from her friend, Hannah, in London. She’d been left in charge of the non-profit in her absence. They’d been trying to expand for several years so they could help more people in need to find jobs. Now Hannah had a few leads on new buildings and a few investors interested in helping out. There would be a meeting in two weeks and she needed to be there in person.

  At first Charlotte groaned. With everything going on with Emma, she hated the idea of having to leave her to go on a business trip. Then her eyes widened as an idea came to her. She didn’t know what had triggered it— the email she’d just received, or Trevor’s questions about her job, or Laina reminding her that Bridget always thought of Emma’s happiness. Regardless of the reason, when her niece came back into the house around lunchtime, Charlotte was still at the kitchen table waiting for her. “Emma,” she called before the girl could dash up the stairs to get away from her. “Can we make a compromise?”

  The girl removed her hand from the banister and turned slowly, studying her aunt. Then she made her way to the kitchen table and sat across from Charlotte. “What kind of compromise?”

  I have to go meet with some investors in London in about two weeks. I’d like you to come with me, Emma. We’ll only be gone for a couple weeks and it will be right around your spring break at school. I’ll give you the grand tour of all the best parts of England. You’ll get to meet my mother and see her house in the country. Remember, she’s the one that always sends you gifts on your birthday?” After Emma nodded, she went on. “Then we’ll come back to Wyoming and make an informed decision together about where we want to live. It will be an adjustment either way, but in the end I want to do what’s best for you, Emma. So what do you think? Are you willing to try London for me if I’m willing to try Wyoming?”

  Emma stared at her for a long time before a slow smile spread across her face and a tear dripped down her cheek. “Yes…oh, thank you, Aunt Charly!” she cried as she stood from her chair and rushed into her arms.

  They both started to cry and Charlotte could hardly breathe because Emma clung to her so tightly. She didn’t know what the future held, but at least they were on the same page now. While deep down, Charlotte hoped Emma chose London and loved it as much as she did, she knew that she would also have to consider what a life in Wyoming would be like. One thing was certain. The next four weeks would be the thrill ride of a lifetime for both of them.

  Chapter Ten

  Trevor woke before the sunrise on Sunday morning and put a kettle of water on the gas stove. While waiting for it to heat up, his thoughts drifted to Emma and Charlotte. His honorary niece had been so excited about the prospect of visiting London for two weeks. He tried to act excited for her, but it truth, the ache in his heart stung even deeper. Five more days and they would be gone. After Emma saw the sights and wonders of England, Trevor doubted she would ever want to come back—at least not to stay.

  He kept telling himself that the thought of Emma leaving was the only thing troubling him, but now he knew differently after kissing Charly. His feelings for her came out of nowhere and Trevor still couldn’t process the emotions that came with that realization. How could he have feelings for any woman when he still clung so tightly to the memory of his wife? Over a week had passed since the kiss. They still worked together every day around the stables but things had been awkward between them. He needed to find some way to break the ice.

  The kettle started to steam and whistle, jolting him out of his fragmented thoughts. Trevor removed it from the heat, grabbed a mug and prepared himself some coffee. Then he crossed the room with it in hand and started to sit down at the kitchen table when something caught his eye on the mantle above the fireplace. The sight of his Bible covered in a thick layer of dust brought a dull ache to his soul. He remembered Tom placing it up there when he first moved into the cabin about six months after Grace passed away.

  I found this in a box and figured it would bring you some comfort, his cousin told him over a year and a half ago. Trevor had forgotten about it until
now.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered while taking the treasured word of God off the shelf and wiping the dust away with a napkin. “Your Word shouldn’t be up there gathering dust.”

  He turned to a bookmarked page in Psalms 34 and looked down to the eighteenth and nineteenth verses that were highlighted. It was one of the last scriptures he had studied with Grace before she passed away and ironically, the same verse Charlotte had mentioned a few weeks before.

  “The Lord hears his people when they call to him for help. He rescues them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”

  Trevor closed his eyes for a moment and steadied his breathing. He knew the verse by heart, but had been avoiding it for so long. In truth he’d been angry with God. He didn’t want to be rescued or comforted. He only wanted his wife back. Trevor wanted Grace back the way she’d been when they were first married. Not sick and suffering from the pain of the cancer that had settled into her bones, like his final memories of her. Even as her body gave out, she had remained so brave and so wise, showing no fear.

  He still remembered sitting with her in the hospital, holding her hand. By that time her strength had left her and she’d lost all of her beautiful dark hair.

  “Don’t let my death make you sad for too long, Trevor. Carry my memory in your heart but don’t let it be a burden weighing you down. God still has so many special plans for your life…and so much joy in store for your future. Don’t let the joy he’s given you die with me. Promise me that…please.”