Keeper of the Stars (23 page)

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

“I
T
'
S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS
, P
ENNY
. S
TAY 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

T
HE FOLLOWING SIX DAYS PASSED IN A BLUR
. T
REVOR
was at the ranch more than he was not and felt more and more at home there. With Rodney's neighbors pitching 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.

“Trevor, you ought to think about coming back to Nashville.”

Penny's image flashed in his head. He saw her tender smile. Heard her sweet laugh.

“Are you listening, Trev? 'Cause I'm serious as a heart attack. Get back here. Don't walk away from everything.”

“I'm not walking away,” he answered emphatically—and then wondered if it was true. He drew in a slow breath. “I came to Idaho to keep a promise to Brad. I'm helping out his dad and sister.”

“So how long's that gonna take?”

“I don't know for sure. A while.”

The silence from Beck's end of the call almost crackled with displeasure.

Trevor tried to give a better answer. “A month or two.” But that didn't sound long enough. “Maybe by the end of March.”

“Okay, listen. I'm gonna keep working on things at this end. But you need to tell me how I can reach you without a long lag time, in case something breaks all of a sudden.”

Even my agent isn't this persistent
. Trevor almost laughed. “Tell you what: if you can't reach me here at this number, call and leave a message on my cell. I promise to check for messages every night before I turn in. Good enough?”

“Guess it'll have to be. You start thinking about getting back here before March. I'll call you when I know anything more.”

And I won't be holding my breath until then.
“Sure. Sounds good. Take care, Beck.”

“You too, Trevor.”

By the next day, Trevor had almost forgotten Beck's phone call. In the past he would have dwelt on the possibilities every waking hour and probably dreamed about them too. It just wasn't the end-all and be-all anymore, as amazing as that was for him to admit. He pondered that bit of self-discovery as he kicked snow off his boots after feeding the cattle. Once in the mudroom, he removed his coat and hung it on a peg on the wall, then walked into the kitchen.

Seated at the table, Rodney looked up. “You done already?” Spread before him was a ledger book, a pile of receipts and invoices, and a calculator.

“Yes, sir.” Trevor crossed the room and sat on a chair opposite the older man.

“Wish you'd let me help. I'm perfectly capable of driving that truck again.”

“Help was already lined up through next weekend. Let's leave things as they are. It won't hurt you to keep resting until then.”

“You're almost as bossy as my daughter,” Rodney grumbled, but a chuckle spoiled the effect.

Trevor pointed at the paperwork on the table. “Looks like you've got enough on your hands for now, anyway.”

The older man sighed, his gaze locked on a page of the ledger. “At the moment, I'm robbing Peter to pay Paul.”

“Doesn't sound good.”

“It's not.”

Trevor leaned forward on his chair. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, son. You've already done so much.”

He hesitated to ask the obvious question. He didn't want to insult Rodney or intrude where he shouldn't. He respected the man, trusted him, wouldn't want to offend him in any way. But the question rolled around in his head until it would no longer be ignored. “Sir, do you need to borrow money?”

Rodney looked up and seemed about to deny it. Then, with a slow shake of his head, he said, “The bank already turned me down for a loan. And that was before my stay at the clinic. I suppose I'm an even poorer risk now.”

“I didn't mean from the bank. I could loan you some money.”

Silence gripped the kitchen for a long time before Rodney answered, “No, Trevor. I couldn't accept it. But thank you. I appreciate the offer. More than I can say.”

Trevor wasn't going to be so easily refused. Not now that he'd warmed to the idea. “Think about it, Rodney. I'm not rich, but I've got a fair-sized nest egg in the bank. My expenses are almost nothing here in Kings Meadow. Even less than I thought they'd be when I first arrived. It wouldn't be a burden on me. You don't have to worry about that. I promise. I wouldn't offer if I didn't have it to give. Maybe I don't have enough to cover everything you need, but surely it would be enough to help see you through until you can sell off more calves.” He saw Rodney was about to reply, suspected he was about to refuse again. “Don't answer right this
instant. Don't refuse until you think about it. Really think about it.”

Silent as requested, Rodney ran the fingers of his right hand through his gray hair.

Trevor leaned back, afraid that if he left the room, Rodney would talk himself out of accepting the offer. And Trevor really wanted him to accept. Wanted it more with each passing minute.

The sound of the door opening and closing broke the quiet that had settled over the two men. A moment later Penny's voice called out, “I forgot to tell you the library was closing early, Dad.”

Trevor glanced toward the door as she walked into the kitchen. Her cheeks were rosy, as if she'd been a long while in the cold instead of only the moments it took to go from car to house. Her smile seemed directed at Trevor as well as her dad, and it felt good that it didn't vanish the way it used to when she looked at him.