Change of Heart (23 page)

CHAPTER

E
VELYN AWOKE THE NEXT DAY
with blurred memories of the previous night accompanying a nasty headache. How had she gotten here?

Judging by the light in the room, it was still morning, and someone had made coffee. If her head didn’t feel so heavy, the smell of it might’ve lured her out of bed. Before she could get up, though, the door opened and in walked Gigi, carrying a tray.

“You’re awake.” She smiled brightly.

Evelyn sat up. “What are you doing here?”

“Good morning to you too.” Gigi set the tray on the nightstand. “Word is, you might need some coffee this morning. And your host wasn’t sure it was safe for him to be the one to give it to you.”

Evelyn felt her eyebrows draw together. “Why?”

Gigi watched her as if waiting for something to click, and when it did, it landed on her like a cement block thrown from the roof of a ten-story building.

She covered her face with her hands, absolute horror writhing in her belly. “Oh, Gigi.”

Gigi held up a calming hand. “We all make mistakes, dear.”

Evelyn slowly shook her head, nausea rolling through her. “No. Not like this. Where’s Whit?” What had he told Gigi?

“Working, I assume. It’s after eight and the Whitney Farms Dinner Night is tomorrow.” Gigi sat on the edge of the bed. “He’s worried about you, and so am I.” She picked up the steaming mug and handed it to Evelyn, but Evelyn wasn’t sure she could drink anything right now. She took it between her hands, letting it warm her, then set it down.

The maternal look on Gigi’s face caught Evelyn’s attention, though she hadn’t seen that expression on her own mother since before Sylvie died. Thoughts of her mother ate at her, but she pushed them aside. Didn’t she have enough heartache to deal with?

“I’m fine, Gigi,” she finally said.

“Dear, you are many things. Fine is not one of them.” She let her hand rest on top of Evelyn’s. “How are you really feeling about all this?”

Tears sprang to Evelyn’s eyes, and as much as she willed them away, in light of Gigi’s undeserved solicitude she couldn’t keep them from falling. She quickly wiped her cheeks and lifted her chin. “I’m fine.”

Gigi’s smile was understanding, and while she likely knew exactly what had happened the night before, she didn’t seem to have any interest in judging Evelyn.

“Evelyn, have you been praying lately?”

Evelyn didn’t reply.

“I am not trying to be bossy, goodness knows, but I’m an old lady who has learned a thing or two about heartbreak.” Gigi pulled a throw pillow onto her lap and hugged it for a long moment, seeming lost in thoughts of her own.

“Did your husband . . . ?”

“Oh, goodness, no,” she said. “He wasn’t that kind of man.”

Evelyn bit her lip.

“I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean that to sound harsh.”

She gave a slight shrug. “No, it’s good. I’m glad he wasn’t that kind of man. I wish Christopher wasn’t that kind of man either.”

Gigi shifted, turning farther toward Evelyn, a deep line of worry running across her forehead. “I had a miscarriage when I was about your age. I had been praying for a child, and I had waited a long time for God to answer that prayer. Sometimes, when I was praying, I felt like Samuel’s mother.” She glanced at Evelyn. “From the Bible?”

Evelyn smiled. “I know who Samuel is.”

“I thought you might.” Gigi folded her hands on her lap. “I was a lot like you. I did what I was supposed to do. I went to church every Sunday and I volunteered in the Sunday school. And I guess in some ways I thought that meant I was exempt from going through anything difficult.”

Evelyn had had those feelings. More than once. If she did everything by the book, no more harm could come to her.

A faulty plan, to say the least.

Gigi’s eyes turned glassy as tears danced at their edges. “And for a long time after that, I didn’t want to pray.” Her voice shook as she spoke. “I’m not proud of this.”

Evelyn reached over and covered Gigi’s hand with hers.

“I didn’t talk to God for a year. A whole year. Can you imagine? I grew up in church, and I knew better, but I saw no point in talking to a God who would deny me the opportunity to meet my own child. A child I thought was his answer to my prayers.”

Aside from hasty prayers of desperation, Evelyn had spoken to God so infrequently she imagined he didn’t even know her name anymore. Oh, she and Christopher had gone to church. Her husband insisted on being involved in the congregation
 
—after all, high moral values were part of his platform. But whenever she was there, she felt the stares. She’d always assumed it was just because of Christopher’s local celebrity status, but now she wondered if the people around her were actually pitying her for the things she didn’t know about the man at her side.

How many of them had known? How many of those women had Christopher been with?

She shook the thoughts aside and forced herself to focus on Gigi.

“I don’t pretend to know what you’re going through, Evelyn, but I do know that was the loneliest year of my life.”

Evelyn stilled. “It’s been pretty lonely around here too.”

“But you’re
not
alone. Even though you feel a little lost and a lot angry, God has never left your side. He is not the one who betrayed you.”

Evelyn hugged her knees to her chest. “I did love Christopher, Gigi.”

Tears welled up as Gigi patted her hand. “I know you did.”

She quickly regained her composure. “This is all very sweet, but God and I aren’t exactly on friendly terms, and after last night, I’m pretty sure he would turn me away if I came knocking.”

Gigi scoffed. “Oh, Evelyn, didn’t you learn anything all those years sitting in church?” She squeezed Evelyn’s hand. “When you are at your worst, that’s when God is at his best.”

Evelyn nodded, but her heart rejected the words the older woman spoke. It sounded more like a sentiment written on a greeting card than practical, usable advice.

Instead she clung to her own words, words she’d carried with her for years.
I’ll never be good enough.

“None of us is good enough, dear,” Gigi said as if she’d read Evelyn’s mind. “That’s what grace and unconditional love are all about.” She smiled. “Though I suppose with a friend like Trevor Whitney around, you’ve already had an up-close and personal demonstration of those two things.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

Gigi looked surprised. “Rushing to your aid the day the FBI showed up at your door. Going with you to see your husband in Denver. Giving you a place to stay
 
—” she looked around the room
 
—“a beautiful place, I might add.”

Evelyn shook her head. “I think he does it out of some sense of obligation to Christopher.”

Gigi tilted her head, sizing her up. “Is that why he came and pulled you out of that bar last night before you could do something you would regret for the rest of your life?”

Warmth rose to Evelyn’s cheeks. Gigi really must know all the details of her poor behavior. It shamed her to think of them now.

“I must say, I was surprised, Evelyn.” Gigi had switched to scolding mode. “What were you thinking? That’s not like you.”

Evelyn’s mind wandered to the moment she’d had the brilliant idea to slip into Christopher’s shoes for just one night. As if that would prove something to him, as if it would make him pay for what he’d put her through. But the sad reality was, he’d already moved on. He didn’t care who she slept with.

But Trevor Whitney did.

Why?

“So Trevor told you?” Evelyn peered at Gigi.

She waved a hand in the air. “Oh, heavens, no. That boy has a zipper straight across his face. He never tells anyone anything.”

“Then how did you find out?”

“I have friends all over this town.” Gigi smiled. “But don’t you worry; I know how to keep them quiet. This is between you and Mr. Whitney. I imagine you’ll have a few things to discuss since I know you’re working on those hearts together.” She winked. “Remember, we want to reveal them at the Sweetheart Festival. And that’s only a few weeks away. Not to mention your community dinner tomorrow night.”

Evelyn groaned. “I can’t do either of those things now, Gigi. I can’t face Whit, and I certainly can’t spend all day setting up for this dinner. Can you find someone else to do it? And someone else to finish the hearts?”

The image of the heart-shaped masterpieces she’d created the night before using song lyrics raced through her mind. She loved the way it made her feel to be artistic again. Did she really want to walk away? Give the project to another artist?

Gigi stood. “I won’t hear of it. This dinner is your idea, your way to pull your weight here on the farm. You have to see that through.”

“And the hearts?” Evelyn stiffened. “I can’t stand up on the stage with Whit while you all present our new ideas. Everyone in town thinks we’re having an affair.”

“But what’s true?” Gigi stared at her.

“We aren’t having an affair.”

She shrugged. “Then that’s all that matters.”

Evelyn pulled the covers over her head. “Easy for you to say.”

Gigi ripped the covers back. “It’s not easy for me to say. But I’ve learned something in all that praying. And I finally came around and realized God
was
watching out for me, even though I didn’t fully understand. There is only one opinion that matters.”

Evelyn blinked.

“When you forget that is when things start to go off the rails.” She turned toward the door, then faced Evelyn again. “Besides, I hope you aren’t planning on letting this thing between you and Mr. Whitney go unattended for too many days.”

Evelyn sighed. “The thought had crossed my mind.”

Gigi’s smile seemed to suggest she thought Evelyn was something of a sad case. “Go find Trevor. Make this thing right so tomorrow night can be a huge success, and then get back to work on those hearts.” Gigi leaned in. “And thank him for watching out for you.”

Evelyn replayed Gigi’s words as the woman shut the bedroom door behind her. She’d said too much in too little time for Evelyn to be able to process it all with her broken heart. Gigi must’ve learned a thing or two about discipline over the years because she’d clearly put Evelyn in her place, yet Evelyn felt loved, not wounded.

A few minutes later, she heard a truck amble up the drive and watched out the window as it parked near the big white barn. It was full of supplies for the dinner, and she knew she needed to get out there to help set up, but how could she face Whit?

How would she ever face him again?

She tried not to relive the moments that lay foggy at the edges of her thoughts. As much as she wished she didn’t remember, she did. She’d all but launched herself at Trevor. Wasn’t that what men wanted? It had certainly been a priority for Christopher.

But Whit was different.

She’d likely embarrassed him even more than she’d embarrassed herself.

She watched as Trevor met the truck driver near the barn. If she were smart, she would throw on some clothes and run outside
 
—apology in one hand, thank-you in the other
 
—and beg forgiveness.

That was what she
should
do, but her shame got in the way.

Instead, she paced across her bedroom floor, Gigi’s advice still hanging in the air, filling the room with possibility. Yet Evelyn found herself hesitant to reach out and take it. She didn’t even know how to pray anymore. Part of her wondered if she’d ever known.

A cocktail of regret and gratitude swirled together at the forefront of her mind.

“Okay, God,” she whispered, breaking the silence in the empty house. “It’s true. I need help. I’m hurt and embarrassed.” She stopped. “And angry.” As she said the words, images of her shattered life played in a continuous loop through her head. “And I don’t know who I am anymore.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, the stillness of the room covering her like a thick blanket. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, knowing Gigi was right. She’d spent years ignoring God’s plans and thoughts about her, caring instead about who other people thought she should be, but never measuring up to anyone’s expectations.

“I’m sorry, God.”

She opened her eyes and saw an old Bible on the dresser. She could only assume Gigi had left it behind. She noticed a sticky note on one of the pages and flipped the Bible open to that spot. She read the verse referenced on the note
 
—Ephesians 2:10.

For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

Created anew. What she wouldn’t give to know what that felt like.

The room was quiet, but the response wasn’t empty. Instead, her head filled with the memory of the way she felt when she was creating. Designing those hearts had awakened something inside her, something she’d shoved aside for too many years.

How had she ever agreed to give that up?

On the table, her sketch pad begged for her attention. She opened it, unsure of where to begin. She had no guidelines, no direction. The possibilities were endless
 
—and yet that reality threatened to paralyze her.