Guardian 0f Her Heart (Whispers In Wyoming Book 6) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Books by Rachel Skatvold

  About the Author

  Guardian

  of Her Heart

  RACHEL SKATVOLD

  Guardian of her heart

  Copyright © 2018 Rachel Skatvold

  ISBN-13: 978-1983517273

  ISBN-10: 1983517275

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. Published by Rachel Skatvold.

  Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright ©1996, 2004, 2007, 2013 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations or events is coincidental.

  Editor: Lisa M. Prysock

  Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill

  For more information on Rachel Skatvold, please visit her website: www.rachelskatvold.com

  Acknowledgements

  First of all, it requires many individuals working behind the scenes to publish a book. I’d like to start off by thanking the Whispers in Wyoming authors for inviting me to join this amazing series. Danni, Kari and Lisa, I’m grateful for your friendship and encouragement during this writing adventure.

  Also, a big shout-out to Erin Dameron-Hill for creating the stunning cover art for this book and Lisa M. Prysock for doing a phenomenal editing job. Thanks to my beta readers as well. You’re opinions and encouragement have been amazing.

  Next, writing wouldn’t be possible without the support of my wonderful family and friends. Thanks for putting up with my late nights and reclusive behavior when I retreat into my writing cave. I love you all so much.

  Last but not least, thank you, Jesus, for blessing me with the time and ability to write. 2017 was a difficult year, but you brought me through. Thank you for always being my savior and great healer.

  “The Lord hears his people when they call to him for help. He rescues them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”

  Psalm 34:17-18

  Chapter One

  Charlotte Lewis gazed out the tiny airplane window as the city lights of London faded from her view. She knew it would only be a month until her return, but somehow as her beloved city dissolved into the black night, everything seemed so final. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, her life would never be the same after tomorrow. Actually, her life had already changed the moment she got the call saying that her sister and brother-in-law had been in a fatal car accident.

  Charlotte let out a sigh of despair and tore her eyes from the window. Staring out at the black sky wouldn’t make the lights return or make her heart any less numb. It would only make her long for the way things used to be.

  God, you promised you’d be close to the broken hearted, she prayed silently. Please hold me closer than ever right now.

  As she settled into her first class seat and closed her eyes, Charlotte severed her attachment with London for just a moment as time seemed to reverse. She was a child again and this plane would take her home—home to the United States. It had been her favorite place in the world once. It had been where she grew up with her younger sister, Bridget. Thinking about it that way sent an odd comfort drifting over her soul for a brief moment before she let sleep claim her.

  “Charly,” a child’s singsong voice called.

  “What is it?” she mumbled, half awake and slightly annoyed at the sound of her nickname. She hadn’t heard it in ages.

  “Charly, the sun’s rising,” the voice continued. “Come for a ride with me and try to catch it.”

  “I’m tired, Bridge. Just let me sleep five more minutes.”

  “But we’re leaving tomorrow. Please?”

  The voice faded away and Charlotte’s eyelids fluttered open. At first she didn’t remember where she was. Then faint rays of sun glittered across the gray vinyl seat in front of her and it all came flooding back. “Bridge…” Charlotte whispered but her voice trailed away, realizing it had just been a dream about one of their many trips to Yellowstone. Their father liked to take them on trail rides. Charlotte dreaded it, but not Bridget. She was a natural with horses and it was a talent that only grew stronger as she matured into an adult.

  Charlotte opened the window cover and gazed out, squinting at the daylight. When her eyes adjusted, she couldn’t see anything but blue sky and clouds. She’d switched flights in New York several hours ago, so she guessed the plane would land soon.

  “Excuse me, Miss. Do you need anything?” the flight attendant asked. “We land in about thirty minutes, so this will be the last call for refreshments.”

  Charlotte turned toward the pleasant young woman and managed a groggy smile, disoriented for a moment. “Maybe some tea,” she finally responded.

  The flight attendant smiled with a nod. “Of course. I’ll bring that right away.”

  Time drifted by quickly as Charlotte sipped on her drink and gazed out the window as if in a trance. Then before she was ready, the flight attendant collected her empty cup and the captain turned on the seatbelt sign.

  She white-knuckled the armrests as the plane dipped forward and emerged from the thick cloud bank. The taking off and landing part of flying always frayed her nerves the most. Now the anxiety of returning to Wyoming and the responsibility that would come with it paralyzed her. There would be no turning back now. After she stepped off the plane, she would be responsible for someone other than just herself. Her niece, Emma, needed a guardian whether Charlotte felt prepared to be one or not.

  God, please help me. I can’t do this on my own, she prayed.

  By the time the plane landed and taxied to the gate, Charlotte had mustered enough courage to face whatever challenges she would meet in the coming month. Then she pulled her rolling suitcase down the long covered walkway, hoping her sister’s best friend, Laina, would be the one waiting for her. They’d met the week of her father’s funeral when she came with Bridget and Emma to California. Charlotte liked her spunky personality.

  When she exited the security gate at Casper International Airport, Charlotte craned her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of Laina’s silky blond hair. She always kept it pulled back in a long French braid and if it hadn’t been for her western clothing, Charlotte could have mistaken her as a character from some fairy tale she read as a child. Still, as petite and dainty as she seemed, it would be foolish for anyone to underestimate Laina. She was as cowgirl as they came and not afraid to stand up to people twice her size. That’s why they got along so well.

  However, to Charlotte’s disappointment, Laina was nowhere in sight. Instead, someone else hel
d a sign that read Charly Lewis.

  She blushed, embarrassed that her childhood nickname was being displayed for the whole world to see. After a moment, she let out a deep sigh. It was silly to let petty things bother her.

  Charlotte’s heart palpitated when she finally saw the man behind the sign. Underneath his white cowboy hat, she observed his ruggedly handsome features. His dark hair, deep brown eyes, and high cheekbones would have made most women swoon, but not Charlotte. She’d been through too much heartbreak in the past to fall for a handsome face right off the bat. Some people called her overly cautious and closed off, but she never apologized for protecting her heart. Charlotte had been hurt too many times in her thirty-four years of life. Besides, she was much too busy with her job to waste time on a love life.

  Remember that you came here for your niece, Charlotte chided herself. You don’t have time for any drama.

  After pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts, Charlotte squared her shoulders and approached the stranger that would provide her transportation to the Morgan Estate on the outskirts of Tipton.

  Trevor Morgan watched the tall brunette woman in a business suit come through the security gate. She looked out of place from the other passengers at the small airport and he knew without a doubt that she was Bridget’s sister. They had the same height and build, but other than that they were as different as night and day. She had a regal quality about her, with the confidence and poise of someone who grew up in a life of privilege. He unconsciously began writing her off because of it.

  I’m surprised she didn’t arrive in a fancy private jet and arrange for her own private chauffer to drive her to Tipton, he scoffed to himself.

  When she looked up and their eyes met, all his negative judgments flew out the window for a moment and Trevor’s breath caught in his chest. She was drop dead gorgeous. He’d noticed that the first moment he saw her, but it wasn’t the reason for his surprise. Something about her eyes affected him. They were light blue and endless like the vast Wyoming sky he loved so much. Yet, there was a deep sadness in them, reminding him of a similar ache in his own heart.

  Just as soon as the sadness had appeared, it faded as she saw the sign. Then she plastered on a smile and approached him, all business.

  He tucked the sign under his arm and a half smile formed on his lips, determined to be as polite as he could manage. “Charly Lewis?”

  “Charlotte,” she corrected with the same stony expression as before and extended her free arm. “Please, just call me Charlotte.”

  He shook her slender hand, noting her French manicure at the same time. Even her nails were fancy, just like everything else about her. “Nice to meet you, Charlotte. I’m Trevor Mor…” He paused for a moment, unsure if he should open up a whole can of worms by mentioning his last name. After all, he had no idea how much Tom and Bridget’s lawyer might have told her over the phone. In the end, he decided to keep it simple until he knew her a little better. “You can just call me Trevor,” he said instead.

  “Thank you for meeting me here, Trevor. I’m assuming you’re one of the hired hands at Morgan Stables?”

  Trevor bit his tongue, trying again to keep things simple. “Yeah…you might say that. I’m sorry…you were probably expecting Laina instead of a stranger, but she was busy with…other last minute arrangements…”

  Charlotte’s eyes darkened as his voice faded off, silently filling in his unspoken words. “I see,” she said while staring at the tiled floor below her expensive, high heeled shoes.

  Trevor rubbed his chin, wishing he hadn’t mentioned anything about the gathering tomorrow that they were both dreading. Maybe she wasn’t made of stone after all. “Well, I’m assuming you have luggage we need to get at the baggage claim?” He asked, trying to ease the awkward moment. “I’ll help you get it to my truck.”

  Charlotte looked up at him and her sapphire eyes filled with relief at the change in subject. “Yes, thank you.”

  Trevor let her lead the way and breathed out a sigh of relief as well. She seemed like a nice person, in spite of his initial first impression. However, as they strolled through the airport terminal toward the baggage claim, he hoped things would stay that way after she found out his last name and what it would mean for the future of Morgan Stables.

  Chapter Two

  After a twenty minute wait, Charlotte’s first burgundy suitcase came into view. “There…it’s that one,” she said, pointing to it on the luggage carousel.

  Trevor pulled the large bag off the belt with a grunt and placed it gently on the ground. “Well, you certainly pack light,” he said with a relieved smile.

  Charlotte ignored him and continued pointing. “Oh and those two are mine as well…and that one.”

  Trevor shot her an incredulous look before heaving the other three large pieces of burgundy luggage off the carousel. Then his eyes took on an ornery gleam as he teased, “Well, is that it? Or did you pack the Eiffel Tower too?”

  Charlotte scoffed with a roll of her eyes as she lifted two of the suitcase handles until they snapped into place. Then she stacked her carry-on suitcase on top her largest piece of luggage and began toting all three toward the exit. She was in no mood to be the butt of Trevor’s jokes but she couldn’t suppress a hint of a smile on her lips. He was charming in an eccentric kind of way.

  “Sorry,” he said, jogging to catch up with her two remaining bags in tow. “Bad joke.”

  Charlotte kept moving until they reached the double doors leading outside. Then she paused while zipping up her coat and scanned the terminal that was clogged with cars and shuttles dropping off and picking up travelers. “It’s all right,” she said, managing a fake smile. “So which direction is your car?”

  Trevor pointed toward the crosswalk. “Well, we need to cross here to get to the parking garage. It’s on the second level.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you lead the way.”

  About five minutes later they stopped at the next to last parking spot on the second level. This time it was Charlotte’s turn for a jaw drop when she saw the vehicle that sat before her—an old fifties style truck that looked like it had once been a shade of light blue. Now it sported rusty fenders, dents and mismatched colored doors—one blue and the other, yellow. “This is your truck?”

  Trevor nodded with a twinkle of pride in his eyes. “Sure is. I inherited her from my dad. She doesn’t look like much now, but I’ve restored the engine to start with. Then I’ll replace the leather seats and finish the bodywork…when I have the money, that is.”

  Charlotte stared the old truck up and down and finally replied with, “Oh…it must take a lot of patience to fix up an old truck like this.”

  “Yeah, but she’s worth it,” he said and continued to talk about his plans for the old truck while lifting her bags into its bed. It seemed from the nostalgia in his voice that it meant a lot to him. After Trevor was done, he unlocked the passenger side and yanked the door several times until it creaked open. “Sorry again. Like I said…she’s a work in progress.”

  Charlotte managed a genuine smile as she climbed into the cab, starting to appreciate Trevor’s unconventional charm. She had to admit, although the truck was a little rough around the edges, like the man she’d just met, it had potential. Ironically, it brought a tiny glimpse of hope to her troubled soul.

  A few hours later they were out of the city and on an old two lane highway, headed for Tipton. Charlotte remained quiet for most of the trip as fond memories of her sister penetrated her thoughts. They had gone on so many trips together with their father as children. He was an adventurer and took his family everywhere they ever dreamed of going. Paris, Rome, Italy—money was no object. Her uncle was the famous actor, Gary Lewis and they had a stake in the family film business with him. While Gary worked on directing films, her father, Greg worked on the business side of things, until he died of an unexpected heart attack, three years ago.

  Charlotte and Bridget were half-sisters, both having a different mo
ther, but they had always been inseparable. During their childhood they spent the school year together. Then they parted ways for two months every summer when Charlotte went to visit her mother in England.

  Growing up, it was evident that Charlotte had gotten her father’s business sense and Bridget, his thirst for adventure. In many ways she had always admired her sister for it. Bridget gave up her life of luxury in California one summer to attend a college service project at Morgan Stables in Wyoming and kept her famous family a secret. The whole family thought she’d grow tired of her obsession with horses after mucking out dirty stalls for three months straight, but she surprised them all by falling in love with the owner’s son and marrying him at the end of the summer.

  By that time, Charlotte had already moved to London and unfortunately couldn’t make it back in time for her younger sister’s wedding. At an early age she dreamed of attending Oxford University like her mother, so right after graduation she did just that and eventually took over one of her mom’s non-profits. Helping others behind the scenes was the perfect job for Charlotte. She enjoyed being away from the prying eyes of the media in L.A. and hadn’t returned in sixteen years, besides one brief trip for her father’s funeral. Although she kept in contact with her family through scattered emails, phone calls and video chats, Charlotte still felt guilty that she had left her father and Bridget behind. However, she couldn’t go back and change her decisions now.

  “We’re getting close,” Trevor said from the driver’s seat, disrupting Charlotte from her daydreaming. “It should be about forty-five minutes now that we’ve passed The Broken J.”

  “The Broken what?”

  “The Broken J,” Trevor repeated. “The Havens run the place. It’s one of the oldest ranches in the area. It was becoming pretty run down but then the new owners converted it into a dude ranch. It really brought life back into the old place.”