He had gathered her frail body in his arms and kissed her, but he couldn’t make her that promise. It was just too hard. “I love you,” was all he could manage to croak out over and over. He held her for a long time that night, listening as her breathing became slower and more labored. Then she passed away the next morning.
Now, reading the verses on the page, a glimmer of hope returned to his soul. Maybe he could learn to trust God again. He could start by attending church that morning. After all, Charlotte had invited him to come along several times. He didn’t want to turn her down again. Then, maybe, just maybe he could take a few baby steps forward and tell Charlotte the truth about Grace.
After the small church service on the outskirts of town, Emma begged Charlotte and Trevor to take her for a trail ride and they didn’t object. Charlotte invited Laina along too, secretly hoping it would give her a little alone time with Trevor. It would be the perfect opportunity to remedy the awkwardness between them and talk about London.
She waited until Laina and Emma galloped ahead of them a ways before breaking the ice. “Thank you for coming with us to church this morning. Everyone has been so welcoming since I’ve come to town and they really adore Emma too. I hope you felt at home there.”
Trevor nodded. “I’m really glad I went. To be honest, it’s been a long time…ever since my wife passed away.”
Charlotte put her hand over her mouth in surprise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He shook his head and looked up with a sad smile. “It’s all right. Her name was Grace.”
“I’m sure she was a very special person.”
He nodded. “Grace was an elementary school teacher…so patient, kind and selfless…right up to the end. Everyone adored her, especially her students.” He placed one hand over his heart and let out a deep sigh. “Sometimes I still feel like there’s this gaping hole inside that will never heal without her.”
Charlotte gulped, hearing the pain in his voice. “I hope you don’t mind me asking…but what happened?”
His eyes misted over as they continued letting the horses walk along the trail. “We were married for about two years and had started talking about having children. Grace kept telling me she wanted at least a dozen,” he explained as a nostalgic smile spread across his face for a moment, but it quickly faded away. “It just wasn’t meant to be. She fought really hard, but even with all the treatments, she only survived about eight months.”
“That must have been awful,” Charlotte murmured just above a whisper. “I can’t imagine how painful it would be to lose a loved one that way.”
He nodded. “I was angry for a long time and blamed God for taking her from me, but things were starting to get better. Helping Tom run the stables got me out of the rut I was in. And now that he’s gone, I feel this sense of duty to continue the Morgan family’s legacy. I want to make Tom…and Bridget proud.”
Charlotte wiped a stray tear before it dripped down her cheek. “You’ve already made them proud, Trevor. The way you run things here…it’s amazing.”
“Thank you for saying that,” he said, rubbing his chin.
Charlotte drew in a deep breath, preparing herself for the next part. “You’re welcome. Actually, that’s what I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. If we end up moving to London, I’d like to transfer full ownership of the stables over to you. Watching you these past three weeks, I’ve realized you really know what you’re doing. You don’t need me bossing you around. I guess what I’m saying is, I trust you to run things for Emma until she gets older.”
Trevor sighed and his eyes took on a sad gleam. “Thank you for the compliment…and for the faith you have in me…but let’s just cross that bridge when we come to it. Okay? Anything could happen in the next couple of weeks and there’s no reason to set our plans in stone just yet.”
“Oh…of course not. There’s no rush. I just thought I’d run the idea past you,” Charlotte responded with a quick shake of her head. He was obviously not ready to discuss Emma moving out of the country yet. Now she regretted bringing it up at all.
They rode along for a few minutes in silence before she looked up and blushed, noticing Trevor observing her with an approving grin on his face. “What is it?”
His smile widened. “You’re getting better at riding.”
“You really think so?” she asked, straightening in the saddle even more.
“Yes, you’re more relaxed and not scared of the horse anymore.”
She shrugged with a huge grin on her face, pleased that he’d noticed her improvements. “Well, what can I say? I’ve had a good instructor.”
Trevor chuckled. “Now we just have to teach you to cook.”
“Hey!” she protested and aimed a fake glare in his direction. “I’m doing better. So far I’ve made blueberry pancakes and breakfast burritos.”
“You mean half-charred breakfast burritos, don’t you?”
“Be nice!”
He raised his hands in surrender, with one thumb still hooked through the reins as an amused chuckle escaped his lips. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your cooking skills.”
“Yeah…sure you didn’t.” Charlotte pursed her lips, suppressing a giggle. Why did the dimple in his right cheek have to be so adorable and his baritone laugh so attractive? This guy was pure torture for her. How would she get through two weeks without seeing him every day? The unexpected thought sent her pulse skyrocketing.
Oblivious to her conflicted feelings, Trevor continued on. “So, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me…I wondered if you might like to help me prepare dinner tonight. I noticed you are all out of prepared frozen dinners anyway.”
“Sure,” Charlotte agreed, always up for a challenge. “What’s on the menu?”
“Well,” Trevor said with a charming raise of his eyebrow that made her heart skip a beat. “I do make a mean, homemade, chicken pot pie.”
Chapter Eleven
Trevor attempted to ignore the thumping of his heart as he chopped up carrots and potatoes on the cutting board. Charlotte was close by, dicing celery—so close he could smell her perfume.
She turned to scrape the processed celery into the pot, accidentally bumping elbows with him. “Oh, sorry,” she said with an adorable little chuckle.
“It’s all right.” He grinned and continued preparing the vegetables.
When they were finished, he told her to fill the pot with enough water to steam the vegetables. Then Trevor demonstrated how to make the dough for the pot pie crust. He kneaded the dough a few times while explaining how to do it. Then he turned to Charlotte. “Wanna try it now?”
She hesitated for a moment, looking apprehensive, but agreed in the end.
“Get a little more flour on your hands and sprinkle some on the dough too,” he instructed.
She did as he said, picked up the dough and then pushed it forcefully onto the counter with a flop. Flour went air born, coating them both.
Trevor glanced down at his plaid button-up shirt, now speckled with fine white dust and chuckled. “You don’t have to beat up the dough. Just gently fold it.”
Charlotte gave him an impish grin and squeaked out an apology.
“It’s all right,” he assured her while dusting off his shirt. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
She looked unconvinced, but continued kneading, at a much gentler fashion than before.
“There you go,” he encouraged. “Perfect. Now we can put it in a bowl to rise for about twenty minutes.”
After that was done, Charlotte leaned against the counter and rubbed her forehead with a sigh. “Well, I sure hope that pays off.”
He nodded and tried to suppress a grin, noticing a streak of flour across her forehead. “Well you look like quite the chef now, Charly,” he said while grabbing a kitchen towel and getting the corner of it wet under the faucet.
Her eyes widened as he approached. “What’s wrong?”
He smiled and extended the towel
close to her face. “Nothing. Just hold still.” She closed her eyes and did as he asked. Then he wiped the white streak off her forehead.
After he took the towel away, she opened her sapphire eyes and met his gaze. “Thank you,” she murmured with a shy chuckle. “You’ve got flour in your hair.”
All of a sudden the mood changed. Time melted away as he smoothed back a strand of hair off her forehead and then cupped her cheek in his hand, smearing some more flour on her face in the process, but neither one seemed to care very much now. She responded by leaning closer. They seemed to be floating on a cloud—lost in each other—lips almost touching, until the kitchen door swung open.
Trevor pulled back and rotated toward the stove as Laina and Emma came through the door. Trying to act casual, he stirred the vegetables and asked, “Done taking care of the horses for the night?”
They both nodded, but Laina gave him a funny look, focusing on his hair. Then an amused grin spread across her face. “My, my, Trevor…you’re starting to go gray. Too much stress here at the stables for you?”
“We had a little mishap with the flour,” Trevor said, avoiding her eyes as he went to the sink and washed his hands.
“Seems to be happening a lot in this kitchen these days…that mischievous exploding flour. Someone ought to call the grocery store and complain.”
He gave Laina an eye roll while drying his hands and then glanced at Charlotte. What was it about this woman that attracted him like a moth to the flame? Whatever it was, Trevor feared his impulsive behavior would lead to heartbreak for both of them. Still, he couldn’t help wanting to take the risk.
The next couple of days were filled with preparations for Charlotte and Emma’s trip abroad. Since Charlotte had plenty of outfits in her London flat, she only packed one suitcase, but Emma needed one large suitcase and a carry-on to bring enough for their two week stay. Emma sang her favorite country western and gospel songs all over the house while she packed and Charlotte couldn’t help but smile at her niece’s enthusiasm. She knew it would be a trip of a lifetime for the girl, whether they decided to stay, or not.
As busy as they were, planning for the trip, she couldn’t seem to keep from thinking of Trevor and the kiss they’d almost shared in the kitchen the weekend before. Why were they so drawn to each other when their situation seemed so impossible? Charlotte let her confused wonderings bounce around in her thoughts as she walked up the path toward the stables. The day was unusually warm for that time of year and had melted most of the snow. It was the perfect afternoon for a stroll outside. The birds sang their happy little tunes while flying from tree to tree, proclaiming the promise that spring would arrive soon. Their joy was contagious and a smile bloomed on Charlotte’s lips as she reached the stables. Once there, she waited in the shadow of the entrance.
She saw Trevor running alongside Hercules in the corral. The regal, gray stallion’s mane whipped wildly in the breeze and his nostrils flared. Then, all of a sudden the horse seemed to slow and calm down. Trevor stopped and turned his back to the horse. Charlotte watched in disbelief as Hercules followed him and put his muzzle against Trevor’s shoulder. With a pleased grin he reached up and stroked the horse’s mane, whispering in a language she didn’t recognized— she guessed it was in his native Shoshone tongue. She watched for the next few minutes as he gently put a halter on the animal while he continued whispering calming words into his ear. Then to her amazement, Trevor hopped onto the horse bareback in one fluid movement and let it trot around the corral. She’d never seen anything like it in her entire life. He had such a gentle, yet confident way around horses that amazed her.
On the third trip around the corral, Trevor looked up and caught her spying on him. He tipped his hat in Charlotte’s direction, making her blush. “Nice day for a walk, huh?”
She nodded, trying to regain her composure. “Yeah.” Not a bad view either, she added to herself. Charlotte watched as he dismounted the horse and led him over to the edge of the fence. She flinched, remembering how untamed the animal had been just a few weeks ago.
“It’s okay,” he said with slight nod, picking up on her apprehension. “He won’t hurt you. Will you, Hercules?” The horse let out a low grunt and bobbed his head up and down, as if agreeing with Trevor.
Charlotte reached through the fence in a timid fashion, ready to pull them back quickly if she needed to. However, when she stretched out her fingers and caressed the horse’s mane, he stayed completely calm and relaxed. “Amazing,” she said while continuing to pat the horse. “How did you learn to do that?”
Trevor shrugged. “It’s a technique I learned over the years, combining some things I learned from my Grandmother and Tom Morgan, Senior. It’s mostly just patience. You can’t rush the horse into trusting people. They’ll do it in their own time.”
“And the special language you whisper to the horse…what are you saying to him?”
Trevor grinned. “I speak in Shoshone because it flows so naturally, like the wind. It’s calming to both of us and reminds me of the conversations I used to have with my grandmother. I just talk to him like he’s my friend.”
“Like he’s your friend…” Charlotte murmured quietly “How do you say my friend in Shoshone?”
“Neah-hanch,” he said, carefully pronouncing the phrase.
“Neah-hanch,” she repeated and after Trevor nodded in approval of her pronunciation, she continued gently stroking the horse’s mane. The stallion seemed to relax even more as she repeated the phrase once more.
After a few moments of silence she looked up at Trevor again. His eyes held a longing expression that made her heart race. Why did he keep sending her mixed signals—and so close to her trip abroad with Emma? It confused and frustrated her to no end. Sometimes he seemed uncomfortable by her presence, like she brought him extreme pain. Then other times he seemed drawn to her like a magnet.
He blinked and the longing in his eyes faded. Managing a stiff smile, he surprised her by turning the conversation in a new direction. “Charly…I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said the other day…about the ownership of Morgan Stables and I think you’re right. We should talk about what the future of this place might look like. Would you like to talk about it over dinner tonight? There’s a nice steakhouse in Tipton and I thought maybe you’d like to join me.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” she asked with a teasing lift of one eyebrow.
“Um…no…I mean yes,” he fumbled and rubbed his chin. “Well, not a date per say, but just a casual dinner as business partners to talk things over. What do you say?”
“Business partners…” she repeated thoughtfully and then nodded with a pounding heart. “All right. It’s a date,” she said and then covered her mouth in surprise at what slipped out of her mouth. “I mean…um...it’s a business dinner. Does that sound better?”
He let out a nervous chuckle and nodded. “Sure. I’ll pick you up at six o’ clock tonight?”
“I’ll be ready,” she replied, trying to suppress a giggle. Then she whipped around quickly to avoid any more awkwardness between them. However, as Charlotte retreated toward the house, she couldn’t stop the huge smile that spread across her face.
Chapter Twelve
Charlotte changed her outfit for the umpteenth time and then studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. She had ended up choosing a classic, black, knee-length dress with leggings and short heels, matched with a red, long sleeved cardigan. The outfit complemented her curves but still appeared modest—exactly what she had been going for.
“Not a date,” Charlotte murmured to herself. “Remember, he said it’s not a date,” she repeated and rummaged through her jewelry bag for some earrings. In the end she decided to go with small diamond studs instead of anything fancy. Then she gathered her honey-brown hair into a simple French twist and put on a conservative amount of makeup, going for a more natural look. “There,” she said, looking at her reflection again. “This says business dinner�
��right?” Or was it still too date-like? Her confused thoughts frayed at her nerves.
A few moments later, Charlotte delved through the guestroom closet again, searching for a pair of dress pants that would look more business-like. Then she huffed in frustration and gave up, just deciding to go with her current outfit.
After heading downstairs, she was met with curious gazes from Laina and Emma.
“So…it’s not a date?” Laina said with a teasing grin and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Right,” Charlotte agreed with a hesitant nod and then her eyes widened, realizing what Laina was implying. “Why, does this outfit make it look like a date?”
Laina and Emma shared a giggle, like they were suppressing a secret between the two of them.
Meanwhile, Charlotte glanced up at the clock in a frantic manner. “I still have five minutes until six. I could try to find my dress pants again.”
Laina shook her head as another giggle escaped her lips. “No, don’t you dare. You look just fine.”
Just then a knock sounded at the door.
Charlotte peeked out the curtains and gasped, seeing Trevor waiting at the door with a bouquet of flowers behind his back. When he turned toward the light from the kitchen and smiled at her, she yanked the curtains shut and turned her back to the window with wide eyes. “He’s early!”
“That’s Trevor,” Laina said with an amused grin.
She rolled her eyes in a playful manner while trying to calm her galloping heart. “Oh, so he’s one of those…”
“Yep,” Laina confirmed. “Mr. Early Bird.”
Charlotte straightened her posture, walked toward the door and opened it while silently reprimanding her hand for trembling.
He offered all of them a wide grin as Trevor stepped over the threshold. “Good evening, ladies,” he said with a subtle tilt of his hat.” Then a moment later his eyes traveled over Charlotte’s outfit, looking like he wanted to say something but handed her the bouquet instead.
Guardian 0f Her Heart (Whispers In Wyoming Book 6) Page 7
