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“Sure. Let’s go.”
    Before Penny could respond, Brad darted around her and raced down the stairs. “Betcha I can get my horse saddled before you can,” he shouted over his shoulder, ending with a laugh.
    â€œNot a chance, buddy.” She was hard on his heels by the time he flew off the porch. “That day’ll never come.”
    Yeah, he was going to miss her plenty.

Chapter 3
    P ENNY HAD ALWAYS LOVED THE C HRISTMAS SEASON , particularly here in Kings Meadow. The commercialization of the holiday hadn’t reached her hometown. Not like it had in most places. And she was grateful for it. Most folks hereabouts knew how to keep Christ in Christmas. Even those who didn’t share the Christian faith. The town’s decorations had gone up along Main Street the weekend before Thanksgiving. With the blanket of snow covering everything in sight, Kings Meadow was the twinkling, sparkling, picturesque winter wonderland people sang about in the month of December.
    But this year would be different for Penny and her dad. The joy had gone out of the season before it had even begun. She didn’t care if they had a Christmas tree, but she was determined to put one up anyway because her dad had made mention of it. She would force herself to string lights andhang familiar ornaments on the branches. To please her father, she would even bake the traditional sugar cookies and decorate them, the way she’d done every December since she was a little girl.
    The Cartwrights had received several invitations to join other families on Christmas Day for dinner. Again, Penny didn’t want to but would go wherever her dad wanted. She’d left it up to him whose invitation to accept.
    On her lunch break Penny bundled up in her down coat and knit cap and gloves and walked to the bookstore in town. The owner, Heather Kilmer, usually teased Penny, the librarian, for shopping in her bookstore. But not today. Today she simply smiled a greeting and asked if she could help.
    â€œNo. I’m just looking. I thought Dad might like a book for Christmas.”
    â€œWell, holler if you need me.”
    â€œI will.”
    Penny spent a good portion of time at work looking through catalogs of books she might buy for the library. There were way more books released every month than the Kings Meadow Library District could afford to acquire. And yet despite the hours she spent making those difficult decisions, Penny still found pleasure in strolling the aisles of a bookstore, touching books, holding books, reading the back covers or the inside flaps. Her dad’s favorite books—when he wasn’t reading something new about beef cattle husbandry—were World War II histories and murder mysteries. Perhaps she would get him one of each.
    She rounded an end display, expecting to see the shelves of the history section, only another shopper was in her way. She nearly collided with the man’s back. “Oh.” The word came out on a breath.
    He turned, and when she saw his face, her heart sank.
    Him again.
    Trevor touched the brim of his hat. “Miss Cartwright.”
    â€œMr. Reynolds,” she answered stiffly.
    â€œCall me Trevor. Please.”
    I don’t want to call you anything. She turned to leave.
    â€œYou must be shopping for your dad,” he said, stopping her planned escape.
    She pressed her lips together as she faced him a second time. How could he not realize that she didn’t want to be near him? That she didn’t want to speak his name? How could he not see her feelings in her eyes or hear it in her voice?
    His brief smile held a hint of sorrow. “Brad liked to haunt the bookstores in every town where we did a show, looking for history books that he knew your dad didn’t have.”
    Fresh hurt stung her heart. She hated that this man knew something about her brother that she hadn’t known. It felt as if Brad had betrayed their father.
    And me.
    Trevor glanced