Change of Heart (8 page)

“And he’s rugged,” Gigi said, as though he weren’t standing a foot away. “It’s obvious you work with your hands. I heard all about the woodwork and the furniture. The paper really should do a story on you.”

Trevor held his hands up as if that could silence them. “Ladies, please. I’m just a guy who runs a farm, and I can handle my own dating life.”

“You still haven’t told us what’s wrong with you,” Ursula said. “There must be something.”

Gigi studied him. “No, I think there’s more to our young Mr. Whitney than meets the eye.”

Why did he get the impression that once they set their sights, there was no escape?

Just then
 
—as if by the grace of God
 
—the door to Casey’s building opened and Evelyn walked out, pulling the ladies’ attention off of Trevor and onto her.

“Evelyn, what’s wrong? You look upset.” They rushed to her, leaving Trevor feeling like the outsider when all he wanted to do was find out if she was okay.

Evelyn looked past the women, eyes locked on Trevor. “They think I’m hiding something. They think I know where Christopher hid the money.”

She quickly blinked back tears. Even though Evelyn had turned herself into the picture-perfect politician’s wife, Trevor knew her strength only ran so deep. But he remained unmoving. He wouldn’t get involved any further. If she needed a ride or a house, fine. If she needed moral support, well, she had three very supportive women all over her right now.

He stood by while the women fawned over Evelyn, hugging her and telling her things were going to be okay. Finally he glanced up, surprised to find her gaze on him again. Something silent passed between them then because they both knew that despite what these well-intentioned “do-gooders” said, everything was not going to be okay. Not for a very long while.

Trevor yanked his focus off Evelyn and fixed it on the passing traffic.

“Have you talked to Christopher? Is he implicating you?” Gigi asked her.

“He hasn’t called. I haven’t called. I don’t even know what I would say. Nothing about him is what he said.” Trevor noticed that Evelyn had gone utterly still, like she was unable to move.

“Maybe we should take you home,” Doris said. “You look like you might pass out.”

Evelyn shook her head. “I’m never going back there again.”

“Oh, my,” Doris said. “What will you do?”

Evelyn shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

She dared a glance in his direction, and what was he supposed to do? Turn her away? She couldn’t go home with one of these pick-a-little ladies
 
—she’d never have a moment of peace. She needed to be on the farm and they both knew it.

Trevor drew in a deep breath. “Evelyn’s going to stay out at the farm for a while,” he said.

The older women turned as one and faced him. “That will hardly do,” Gigi said. “The press is all over this story. If they find out she’s living with a single man in the middle of nowhere, what will they say?”

Trevor frowned. “Who cares?”

Slowly Evelyn looked up and met his gaze.

“We know the truth, so what does it matter?”

Ursula scoffed. “If only the world worked that way, Whitney.”

“I have a guesthouse,” Trevor said, though he really saw no need to explain. “It’s empty and no one will find her there.”

Evelyn nodded. “Thanks, Whit.”

He placed a hand on her back and led her away, almost thankful she didn’t seem to be fully aware of her surroundings because as he passed the three women, he heard Gigi say, “Ladies, I think we have our next target.”

CHAPTER

G
IGI
M
ONROE WATCHED
T
REVOR
W
HITNEY
whisk Evelyn to her car. While she didn’t personally know Mr. Whitney very well, she did know that he had a kind heart
 
—she could see that in the way he’d befriended poor Evelyn. He would make someone a wonderful husband. Maybe that cute redhead?

“I’m worried about Evelyn,” Doris said.

“Why? Because she just left here with the most eligible bachelor in Loves Park?” Ursula asked.

“I’m sure he’s simply being a good friend to her,” Doris said. “She’s married, after all.”

“Girls, stop gossiping. Doris is right,” Gigi said. “I’m worried about Evelyn too.”

“Life is full of disappointments, Gigi; you know that,” Ursula said.

She did know that. They all did. The three of them had experienced more disappointment and heartache than an entire town put together, but that wasn’t what kept them going. The Valentine Volunteers were as much a Loves Park tradition as the painted wooden hearts on the lampposts and the Loves Park postmark. Their mothers had paved the way, and now they carried on the tradition with gusto.

While Trevor was right about their reputation as the town’s premier matchmakers, Gigi knew better. They helped people however they could, cooking meals, cleaning houses, arranging child care
 
—and if a little romance happened along the way, so be it.

Oh, who was she kidding? She loved when the romance happened along the way. It was her favorite part of being one of the Valentine Volunteers.

“Maybe Evelyn needs a project,” Doris said, silencing Gigi’s thoughts.

“I think the poor girl has her hands full,” Gigi said.

“Doris is right,” Ursula said.

Doris’s eyes widened. “That’s the second time in the last three minutes someone has said that. I think this is a banner day for me.” She wore a proud smile.

“Evelyn
is
one of us,” Gigi said. “She is well versed in all of our duties, including matchmaking, which, I needn’t remind you, hasn’t been going very well of late.”

No, Gigi certainly didn’t need to remind anyone of that. The locals were starting to wonder if they’d lost their touch.

“Oh, Gigi,” Doris said, “I don’t know if matchmaking is the kind of project Evelyn needs right now.”

They walked back toward Gigi’s Buick, the unofficial transportation of the Valentine Volunteers.

“Nonsense,” Ursula said. “There is nothing better to take your mind off your own troubles than sticking your nose in someone else’s.” She pulled the car door open and got inside.

Doris stood on the sidewalk, clutching her purse. “Why does she always get the front seat?”

“I get carsick,” Ursula called before slamming the door.

Doris looked at Gigi, confusion on her face.

For a moment, Gigi felt like the mother of two children vying for position. “Just get in, Doris. I’ll buy you a muffin.”

They drove toward the edge of town, where Abigail’s shop, The Paper Heart, was located.

After a few minutes of pouting, Doris finally spoke. “Just so I’m clear, we aren’t matching Evelyn, are we?”

“Doris, Evelyn is married.” Gigi looked at Ursula. “Whether we like it or not.”

“Not,” Ursula said.

“We can’t talk like this, girls,” Gigi said. “We can’t assume Evelyn’s marriage is over.” After all, couples had made it through far worse, and shouldn’t Evelyn at least try to patch things up?

“You saw the pictures, Gigi,” Ursula said, leaning toward her. “I don’t care how strong she is
 
—that’s awfully hard to come back from. And let’s be honest; Evelyn really isn’t all that strong.”

Gigi pulled into the parking lot of Abigail’s shop. “God could restore that marriage, Ursula, and you know it.”

Doris stilled. “Yes, of course. Time will tell if Christopher is willing to change.”

Gigi turned off the engine and grabbed her purse. “None of this is our business. We should stay out of it and just help Evelyn when she needs it.”

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.”

If they were all in agreement, why did it feel there was so much more to be said?

Inside the cozy shop, Abigail met them with their usual assortment of coffee, tea, and baked goods. Tess and Evelyn were the only two members of the group not present, but this wasn’t an official meeting, so it was fine if they sat and had a chat, wasn’t it?

Abigail half listened, half worked while Gigi and the others discussed their new plan
 
—perfect for pulling them out of their matchmaking slump. As much as she emphasized the Volunteers’ commitment to good works, Gigi couldn’t deny that they had a matchmaking legacy to uphold.

“We’re getting a bad name,” Gigi said, “so matching someone like Trevor Whitney is just what we need to get us back on track and restore our reputation.”

“Plus, we will need Evelyn’s help, and maybe you’re right. Maybe it would give her something to occupy her mind,” Doris added.

Abigail glanced up from behind the thick wooden counter a few feet away from their table and shook her head.

“Why are you doing that?” Gigi asked, waving a pointed finger toward Abigail.

“Terrible idea.” Abigail wiped the counter with a white towel. “She doesn’t need a distraction right now, ladies; she needs time to figure out what’s next. Her whole world has been flipped upside down.”

“Well, so was yours, and you turned out fine,” Gigi said, remembering how Abigail lost her store last year only to fall in love, move to a bigger, better space, and watch her business grow, all as a result of what she thought was a terrible tragedy.

“But how is helping us match Trevor Whitney going to help her?” Abigail said.

“Well, we can’t do nothing,” Gigi said.

Abigail started shaking her head again. “I’m telling you, it’s a bad idea.”

Doris gasped.

“Are you okay?” Gigi studied her old friend.

“I got an idea.”

Ursula groaned.

Doris raised both hands, palms down, as if resting them on an imaginary podium. “The wooden hearts.”

They all stared at Doris, who seemed to think her statement was sufficient.

“You’re going to have to elaborate,” Gigi said.

“We’re always saying we’re more than just matchmakers. Well, here’s our chance to really prove it. The wooden hearts could desperately use an overhaul, and Evelyn is an artist whether she admits it or not.”

Gigi couldn’t believe it. Two valid points
and
a good idea? Doris really was having a banner day. Loves Park, “the Sweetheart City,” carried many traditions, especially around Valentine’s Day, and the wooden hearts were a favorite.

The fund-raiser was an age-old tradition in their town, and all proceeds went toward beautifying Loves Park. People could purchase a heart with a personalized message for their loved one, and a team of volunteers painted the messages on the hearts before they were all hung on the lampposts each February. But the current hearts were simple and straightforward
 
—not nearly artistic enough for such a creative community. At least Gigi thought so.

Doris
was
right again. They could commission Evelyn to give the hearts an artistic makeover. And they could hire several other artists to get in on the display, pulling together the creative community and beautifying their city while revitalizing this old tradition at the same time.

When had Doris become so brilliant?

Maybe they could even squeeze a bit of money out of the city to help Evelyn
 
—goodness knows the government had probably seized all of the Brandts’ assets and put a freeze on their bank accounts.

She’d seen that happen once in an episode of
Law & Order
, so it had to be true.

“What about that kind of distraction, Pressman?” Ursula asked. “That pass your muster?”

Abigail shrugged. “It’s not the worst idea.” She walked away to help a customer.

“Girls,” Gigi said, her voice just above a whisper. The others leaned in closer, and she continued. “I think we’re on to something, and I think I have a way to provide Evelyn with a distraction
and
accomplish the matchmaking of Mr. Trevor Whitney all at once.”

Doris clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait to hear.”

Gigi smiled. “Ladies, we are back. Our so-called slump is officially over.”

Now. To figure out how to explain all this to Evelyn.

CHAPTER

“I
THINK
I
NEED TO GO SEE
C
HRISTOPHER,”
Evelyn announced as she entered Trevor’s kitchen. It had been almost two weeks since the FBI had stormed her home.

Two weeks of keeping his distance. Of leaving her alone. Of pretending not to pay attention to when she was at the guesthouse and when she wasn’t.

Christopher had made bail and sent word
 
—through Trevor
 
—that he needed to stay in Denver to sort through the mess the Feds had made of his life. He’d be in touch with Evelyn as soon as he had some good news.

“Keep her in Loves Park, Whit,” Chris had said only hours after being released from jail. “I’ll let you know when I need her.”

When he wants to look like a dutiful husband, no doubt.
Trevor had kept that last part from Evie, telling her instead that Chris was busy preparing his defense.

Which was not, he reasoned, a lie.

Trevor glanced up from his coffee and iPad. “Good morning to you too.”

She’d knocked before she came into the kitchen but hadn’t waited for him to answer. Now he could see she must’ve been too anxious to stand outside for even one extra second.

He poured her a cup of coffee and set it on the table across from where he sat, next to the cream and sugar he’d brought out. It had become a ritual, a small way of making sure she had what she needed, and while she had a coffeemaker in the guesthouse, she still came to the main house each morning for a cup. He wouldn’t pretend he hadn’t wondered why. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

She took a drink. “Why hasn’t he called, Whit? Why hasn’t he offered any kind of explanation or apology? It’s been two weeks. Two weeks in a holding pattern. I don’t even feel like I can show my face around town.”

Well, he’s a selfish jerk.

“The FBI said he’s got money hidden, but they don’t know where. They’re taking everything. The houses. The boat. They even asked for a complete list of jewelry items he’s given me the past four years.” She looked away. “I think I deserve to know what is going on.”

“Evie, what do you hope to accomplish by going to see him?”

She lifted her chin. “I hope to figure out if I still have a husband.”

It wasn’t a good idea, and he knew it. Chris would spin everything and Evelyn would buy it and she’d be right back under his spell. But it wasn’t his place to stand in the way. They were
married
. And as much as it pained him, he wouldn’t be the reason she walked away from that.

I just want to be her friend, Lord. I just want to be there for her.

The thought did nothing to comfort him because nothing about it rang true. Great, now he was praying lies.

“You look like you want to say something,” she said. Always perceptive, that Evelyn.

He swallowed, then quietly shook his head. “You do what you need to do.”

“Will you come with me?”

Trevor stared
 
—a little too intently
 
—at the black coffee in his mug. “I’m supposed to meet up with Maggie later.”

Theirs was a casual friendship with the faint possibility of something more. He liked her. She was outgoing and upbeat. And she seemed to like him. A lot.

It was Trevor who held back. No surprise there. Since running into her outside Casey’s office, he’d only seen her twice
 
—maybe it was for the best that she lived in Denver. He preferred to keep whatever this was surface-level and nonthreatening.

Evelyn’s eyes widened. “Oh, right, of course. I’m so sorry. You should do that.” She got up.

“Evie, wait.” He would probably regret this. “I’ll come with.”

“No. You have plans, and I really don’t need to heap any more of this mess on you. You are already a saint for letting me stay in your guesthouse. I don’t want to get in the middle of your relationship.”

Trevor stood. “No, forget it. You need someone to go with you. It’s scary out there. I’ll call Maggie and reschedule.”

Evelyn started to protest.

“It’s done.”

She let out a sigh. “Thanks, Whit. I’m kind of terrified to go.”

He didn’t respond.

“Maggie will understand?”

He shrugged. “We aren’t a thing. I mean, we’re just friends.”

Evelyn studied him. Her eyes on him were unnerving. “But you like her?”

He sat back down. “I think your old-lady friends analyze me enough, don’t you?”

If he didn’t know better, he might suspect those three were following him around. He’d run into one or more of them every time he’d gone to town. Even at the feed store, there was Gigi, claiming to need a bird feeder. He knew better. They were going to try to match him, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

She laughed. The first real laugh he’d heard since this whole mess started. “They’ll have you married off in no time.”

He stilled. He didn’t want to be married off.

“It really is a wonder no one’s snagged you yet, Whit. You’re like every girl’s dream. Except for the crabby part.” She refilled her coffee mug and walked toward the door. “Thanks for coming with me.”

He nodded but didn’t respond. He was too busy processing the words she’d just spoken.
“Every girl’s dream.”

Stop it.

He could not let his mind wander down that dangerous path. He’d given his feelings over to God a long time ago
 
—the day he found out Chris and Evie were engaged.

Chris had shown him the ring before heading over to Evelyn’s to propose, and he was so proud of himself.

“She’ll make the perfect wife,” he’d said. “She’s so into me, she’ll do just about anything I say.”

Trevor fought the urge to deck him right there. “Is that really what you want?”

Chris laughed. “Of course it is. I’m going into politics, Whit. I’ve got an image to maintain. Tell me Evelyn isn’t the perfect trophy wife.”

She was beautiful, elegant, and kind. Of course she was perfect. But there was so much more to her that Chris never even saw. Her creativity. Her free spirit. Her shyness. The way she wrinkled her nose when she laughed. Chris wanted to take all of those things away and turn her into a Stepford wife. And Trevor couldn’t just stand by and watch him do it.

“Are you going to stop seeing the other girls?” Trevor had glared at him.

Chris laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He winked. Didn’t even squirm. He was so cocky, it wouldn’t matter if Evelyn found out the truth. Somehow Chris would explain it away.

Maybe Evelyn would turn him down, Trevor thought. Maybe she’d remember how it felt when she was talking with Trevor and that would make her see there was something better for her. But she hadn’t. She must’ve wanted out of her own house pretty bad to walk into a marriage with Chris.

Either that or she had no idea what her future husband was really like. And Trevor had to admit Chris could turn on the charm when it came to dating Evelyn.

Days after the engagement, Trevor showed up on Evie’s doorstep, looking, he was sure, like a lost puppy in search of a home.

“Whit?” She answered the door with a smile, which quickly faded when she noticed his expression.

“We need to talk.”

“What’s wrong?” Evelyn stepped aside so he could come in, but when he did, he found Chris staring at him from the couch.

Chris stood. “You look like you just woke up, dude.” He laughed, clapping a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. Of course he was there. They were beginning to plan the wedding of the year, already set for Valentine’s Day in Old Town Plaza. The future Mr. and Mrs. Brandt were now the talk of this romance-obsessed town, and nothing Trevor said would change that.

If he told her what he really thought of her fiancé, he’d come off like a jealous jerk.

“Everything okay, man?” Chris’s raised eyebrows challenged him.

“Yeah,” Trevor said. “Just wanted to give you guys my best.”

Chris nodded. “Thanks. Means a lot coming from you.”

Trevor gritted his teeth. In the end, he said nothing. He’d even stood up for them at their wedding. Made a speech. Toasted the couple. But the whole night, seeing Evelyn in that dress, watching her leave in Chris’s arms, he was filled with regret.

Before she got in the car that would take them to their honeymoon suite, she left Chris for a brief moment and found Trevor standing at the back of a crowd of people waiting to see them off.

His throat went dry at the sight of her. She looked like she’d stepped right out of a fairy tale. “Hey.”

She smiled. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us.”

It doesn’t. It changes everything.

“You’re one of my best friends, Whit. I don’t want to lose you just because I’m married.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for everything.”

He said nothing as he processed the way the nearness of her twisted his insides. She walked back to Chris, who stood waiting for her at the car. He leaned in and kissed her, then met Trevor’s glare as if to claim his prize, as if to make sure Trevor knew Chris had won.

In the end, Trevor was right
 
—everything had changed. It had to. Trevor stayed home to run the farm and Chris turned Evelyn into the trophy wife he’d always wanted. Over the years, the gap between them had widened as Trevor Whitney removed himself further and further from the world of Chris and Evelyn Brandt. He wasn’t strong enough to fully stop loving her, so he walked away.

He hadn’t stopped praying for her, though. Or for Chris. He prayed daily that God would get ahold of Chris in the way only he could, that his friend would straighten up and live a right life
 
—if not for himself, then for Evelyn.

Eventually, those prayers became more infrequent as he simply stopped seeing the Brandts.

Evelyn had taken his departure from her life personally, but he played the part of an irritated ex–best friend well. She could never know the truth.

Now, sitting in the silence of his kitchen, Evelyn’s presence lingering in the air, he saw how stupid he’d been for so many years. This infatuation he had with Evelyn had kept him from moving on with his own life. She was the yardstick by which he measured every other woman, and it had to stop. In Maggie, he’d met someone worth knowing, and he owed it to himself to see where that might lead.

He’d go with Evelyn to see Chris, but only because he had some questions of his own. After that, it was time for Trevor Whitney to move on. Once and for all.