THE CLOCK ON PENNY’S NIGHTSTAND SAID IT WAS 4:00 a.m. Much too early to be awake. But she’d already tossed and turned for a good half hour, trying to force herself back to sleep. It hadn’t worked.
With a groan of frustration, she rolled onto her side and turned on the lamp. Then she returned to her back and pulled sheets and blankets up to her chin while staring at the ceiling. Although she attempted to turn her thoughts in other directions, they returned to the previous evening, to the moment when Trevor had led her away from the group and folded her into his arms as she wept. It had seemed a safe place for a time. But then he’d stepped away. Not just physically. It had been more than that. He’d moved away emotionally too. Something that had never happened before, no matter how coldly she’d treated him.
I deserved it.
Funny, wasn’t it? She’d done her best to drive him away. Now it seemed she was getting what she’d wanted. And . . . she didn’t like it one bit.
Brad wouldn’t like it either. Brad would want us to be friends.
Thinking of her brother reminded her of his gift to her last Christmas. She pushed aside the blankets and got out of bed. In the minutes that followed, she searched for the CD. None of the drawers in her bedroom produced it, so she put on her robe and bedroom slippers and made her way downstairs to the entertainment center in the living room, pausing long enough to plug in the tree lights. They sent a lovely, multicolored glow into the room.
It didn’t take her much longer to find what she searched for. It was beside the stereo. The cellophane wrapping had been removed from the jewel case, and she wondered how often her dad had listened to the album over the last year. He’d never said a word to her about it. Her heart ached at the discovery. They could have shared this, but she’d been too angry.
With a sigh, she reached for the portable CD player her dad sometimes used—she’d tried to convince him to use his iPad but he’d declined—and went to sit on the couch. She opened the case and popped out the CD, then dropped it into the player. After hooking her hair behind her ears, she put in the earbuds and pressed Play.
The first track was a well-known love song, but Trevor made it distinctly his. The smooth sound of his voice pulled her into the romance of the lyrics. She pictured him sitting on a tall stool, guitar resting on one thigh. For the briefest of moments, she imagined him singing to her. Longing rose up inside of her. Longing to be loved in that same way, for someone special to want to say those same words in the song about her and to her.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, surprised by the unfamiliar feelings swirling inside. But it was a momentary foolishness. She’d never been in a hurry to fall in love. She was content to wait until it was meant to happen. No ticking clock for her. She was too practical for that.
She pushed the Stop button on the player, not waiting for the song to end, and removed the earbuds. Her gaze went to the Christmas tree, staring at the twinkling lights, hoping they would comfort her. Oddly enough, they did just that. For a short while, time stood still. Her thoughts drifted in a sea of silence.
“Penny?” Her father stepped out of the dark hall and into the living room. “What are you doing up so early?”
“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.” She held up the jewel player. “I was listening to music.”
Her dad moved to the couch, picked up the jewel case, and sat beside her. “Trevor’s CD, huh?”
“I thought it was about time I listened to it.”
“He’s good.”
“Better than I expected. Even though Brad told me a hundred times at least.”
A soft grunt was his only reply.
“Dad?”
“Hmm?”
“Weren’t you ever angry with Brad for abandoning us the way he did? For abandoning you and the ranch?”
He placed his arm around her shoulders. “He didn’t abandon me, Penny, or you or the ranch. He went after his dream. That’s what I raised both of you to do. I raised you to live your own lives, not to live mine.”
What her dad said was true. That was how he’d raised his children. But didn’t those children have an obligation to him in return?
“I would never want you to stay in Kings Meadow because of me, Pen. If your heart pulled you elsewhere, I would want you to go.”
She frowned in frustration. Her dad couldn’t manage the ranch without help, and he needed her income as well. Didn’t he understand that by now?
“Penny, I would never clip your wings after teaching you how to fly.” He tightened his arm, drawing her nearer.
She thought of her brother again—and of Trevor. Both of them so passionate about their music, both of them going after a career in entertainment even when common sense and family members opposed their decisions. Had she ever wanted anything that much? No, she answered herself honestly. She hadn’t. Oh, she was content being a librarian. It appealed to her love of order and logic and learning. But was it a passionate dream to be pursued?
“What’s troubling you, Pen?”
As she laid her head against his shoulder, she felt that earlier longing rise up inside her again. “I don’t know,” she whispered. Not a lie. Not really the truth.
He pressed his cheek against the top of her head, and they sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.
Trevor had finished his breakfast and was carrying his dishes to the sink when the phone rang. This early in the morning, the sound sent a shard of anxiety through him as he reached to answer it. “Hello?”
“Trevor. It’s Rodney. Glad I caught you before you left.”
“I was just about to head your way.”
“Well, no need to come unless it’s to see your mom. Penny was up early, so she’s going to help me with the first feeding.”
“Is Mom up?”
“No,” Rodney answered. “Not yet.”
“You sure you don’t need me?”
“I’m sure. But we’ll see you tonight.”
“All right, then. See you tonight.” Trevor heard the click on the opposite end of the wire, then placed the handset back in its cradle.
He washed his breakfast dishes but, once done, was left with lots of time to kill until he had to leave for work. Habit drew him to the black case in the corner. He laid it on the floor, opened it, and removed the guitar. He held it but didn’t play it. Not right away. He just let himself draw pleasure from holding the instrument.
But it was different from the kind of pleasure he used to get from it. In the past, playing and singing had been about earning the approval of the audience. He’d needed the applause the way everybody else needed oxygen. He was smart enough to understand at least some of that was due to the difficult relationship he’d had with his father, and it had made him make a host of dumb choices through the years.
Brad used to tell him that God wanted to heal the hurts from his past; that God wanted to be the father who would never betray him or hurt him or reject him. Trevor hadn’t believed that was possible. Recent weeks had proven otherwise.
He strummed a few chords as the words of a worship song from church played in his memory. That was an example of another change. He’d spent the last dozen years singing or writing songs about the love between a man and a woman, but the truth was he’d known little about that emotion. Now God was opening his eyes to a greater kind of love, and he found he wanted to sing about it all the time.
His fingers stilled, and for a short while he simply sat in God’s presence. From his days in Sunday school, he remembered the words “Be still, and know that I am God.”
But then, out of nowhere, he thought of Penny. He remembered her tears. He remembered how right it had felt to hold her and comfort her. And he remembered knowing that this wasn’t the time to want what he shouldn’t want.
Another ring of the telephone was a welcome interruption. He set the guitar aside and answered it. “Hello?”
“Trevor, it’s Yuli. I just had a breakfast meeting with the mayor, and I’ve got some good news for you. We decided that unless we get another major snowstorm, you won’t need to come in to work until next Monday. A skeleton crew is all we need the rest of the week. Enjoy the time you’ve got with your mother and have a merry Christmas.”
More time to spend with his mom. More time to spend at the ranch. And, though he tried not to think it, more time to spend with Penny.
“Thanks, Yuli. I appreciate it. Merry Christmas to you too.”
After ending the call, his gaze swept the small apartment again. Not a single reason to hang around here, he decided. He grabbed his keys, put on his coat and hat, and headed out the door.