Trouble in Paradise: A Novel

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “They’re the prettiest dresses ever!” Angie added, eyes aglow.

  Nat ruffled their hair with his hands. “Sounds like you had a great time.” He looked at Shayla, who was now standing beside her car.

  “We did.” She smiled.

  There was a glow about her. He hoped he was the cause of it.

  To the twins, he said, “You’d better go wash up. Supper’s almost ready.” Then he moved toward Shayla, eager to hold her in his arms. “I missed you all day long,” he whispered before he kissed her.

  “I missed you, too.”

  “Oh, brother!” That came from Anne as she got out of the car. “Is this mushy behavior going to go on for long?” She sounded disgusted, but there was a sparkle of amusement in her eyes.

  He winked at Anne, then looked down at Shayla. “Not for as long as I’d like.” He brushed his lips across her forehead. “Not nearly for as long as I’d like.”

  “Is Ty in the barn?” Anne started walking in that direction even as she spoke. “Maybe I can hitch a ride to the cabin instead of having to suffer you two lovebirds.”

  “Yeah, he’s in there.” To Shayla, Nat said, “Will you stay for supper?”

  “I should go home. There’s a million and one things I’ve got to do.”

  “Don’t I know it. But another hour won’t make that big of a difference. Will it?”

  Her arms tightened around his torso. “You’re much too tempting for my own good, cowboy.”

  “I do my best, ma’am.”

  She laughed softly. “I know you do.”

  Putting his arm around her shoulders, he walked her toward the house. “I accomplished something today myself. I found a sitter to stay with the girls while I’m working. I decided it wasn’t fair of me to ask for your help with the hiring. You have enough to do. Like you said.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Vicky Briscoe. The little blonde who sits next to Hydrangea Zimmerman in the church choir.”

  Shayla hesitated, drawing them to a halt outside the back door to the house. “How old is she?”

  “Fifteen, I think. Maybe sixteen.”

  “Are you sure she can handle those two? They’re a handful sometimes.”

  “I’m sure.” He gave her a squeeze. “Of course, she’ll only be available until school starts, but that’ll give us plenty of time to find someone more permanent.” He grinned. “We can do that after the honeymoon.” As far as Nat was concerned, the wedding and subsequent honeymoon couldn’t get there fast enough.

  “The eighth of August will arrive before we know it,” Shayla whispered, as if reading his mind.

  “Not fast enough to suit me.” He drew her back into his embrace and kissed her, slow and sweet.

  The days that followed were among the happiest of Shayla’s life. Full from dawn to dusk, but happy all the same.

  There never was a free moment—or so it seemed—to turn on the computer, let alone hours when she was alone so she could write. She would have felt guilty, only she hadn’t time for that either.

  She talked to her parents several times by phone and made more plans for their arrival in August. She cleaned the house at Paradise and found herself thinking of it as their home—Nat’s and hers—instead of his home. When she saw that Joanne’s photograph was gone from his bedroom, she was touched by his thoughtfulness.

  She and Nat went horseback riding some evenings, just the two of them, while Anne stayed with the children. Blue and Pumpkin carried them high into the mountains, following narrow tracks that normally saw only deer and elk and an occasional bear or mountain lion. Most days they ate supper together, and often they sat on the porch swing until after midnight, listening to the sounds of the night, enjoying the feel of holding one another.

  One day, just over two weeks before the wedding, Shayla arrived at the ranch to find the art studio emptied of everything except the bookshelves and the three portraits of Nat. He asked her if she wanted those paintings taken down, too.

  “No,” she told him, touching the side of his face with her fingertips. “I learned a lot about the man you are from those paintings.”

  He seemed about to ask her what she meant, but she stopped him with a slight shake of her head. She wasn’t sure she could explain it and didn’t want to try.

  The next day, a surprise arrived for Cathy and Angie—their own Shetland ponies. Shayla would never forget the looks on their faces when they saw the ponies for the first time. Nor would she forget the expression on Nat’s face. Joyful. Excited. Eager.

  He was the most wonderful man she’d ever known, she thought as she watched him instructing the twins on how to properly saddle and bridle their ponies. He was so much more than just a good-looking cowboy with a heart-stopping grin. He had a big heart, a big heart full of love that he showered on those around him. Especially on her.

  And she loved him so much, it almost hurt. Sometimes the intensity of her feelings for him frightened her. She’d heard it said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

  She wondered if that was true.

  But then, there was no reason to worry, for she was never going to lose Nat O’Connell. God had brought them together. Nat would be her husband, as amazing as that seemed to her, and she would be his wife.

  And so the days of July sped into August, rushing toward their wedding day and a bright new future for the two of them.

  Shayla knelt on the floor of her bedroom and stared into the box she was packing.

  With the rest of the Vincent family arriving from Oregon the next day and only four days remaining until the wedding, she was moving to the ranch house. They’d already taken her office equipment and her clothing over there. This second trip was to pack all the miscellaneous items.

  “I don’t remember bringing so much with me. Where did it all come from?”

  “You’re asking me a question like that?” Nat laughed as he came to stand behind her. “You already saw how things multiply around my place.”

  She glanced up. “Your house needs another good cleaning before your mother arrives on Friday. What will she think—”

  “Sweetheart…you’re fired.”

  “What?”

  “I said you’re fired.” He took hold of her arm and drew her to her feet. “You are not my housekeeper any longer. You’re going to be my wife.”

  “A wife who is still needed to clean your house.”

  “Hey, I—”

  She kissed him, stopping his words. “Get busy, cowboy. I need you to carry those boxes to the truck.”

  “Happy to oblige, Miss Vincent.” He moved to draw her back into his embrace. “But you’re a mighty tempting distraction.”

  She put a hand flat on his chest, stopping him. “Likewise, Mr. O’Connell, but I’m more self-disciplined than you are.” She gave him a tiny shove. “Back to work.”

  “Shucks.” His grin was teasing. “Thought I was more irresistible than that.”

  “Nat, my family arrives tomorrow and your mother the day after that. We have so much to accomplish and too little time to do it in.”

  He released a deep sigh. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “Oh, but I can. I do.” Despite her words, she was tempted to forget herself and all the work yet to do in the wonderful circle of his arms.

  The phone rang. She groaned as she hurried out of the bedroom to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello. May I speak to Shayla Vincent, please?”

  “This is she.”

  “Ms. Vincent, this is Bradley Karnes of Masterson Publishing House.”

  Her heart stopped. “Yes?” There was a strange buzzing in her ears.

  “I’m an acquiring editor for Masterson. I’ve read your submission, Ms. Vincent, and…”

  From the doorway of the bedroom, Nat watched and listened, a sense of doom perched on his shoulder.

  “Three weeks?”

  He couldn’t be certain from her expression or th
e tone of her voice what she felt. It didn’t seem to be bad news, and yet…

  “Yes.” Her brows drew together in a frown. “But you see, in a few days, I’ll be getting—” There was a lengthy silence as she listened, then, “Yes, I understand.”

  She glanced toward the bedroom, saw Nat standing there, turned away.

  His sense of doom darkened, grew heavier. He took a step forward.

  “By the end of August. Yes, I believe I can do that. I’ll do my best. Thank you, Mr. Karnes.” She reached for a pad of paper and a pencil and began scribbling notes on it. “Yes, I will… No, I don’t think so… Of course… Yes, and thank you again, Mr. Karnes. Goodbye.”

  Nat took another couple more steps toward the kitchen.

  ‘They’re interested in my book,” Shayla said. She turned toward him, her eyes wide with surprise. “They might want to buy it.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Buy your book?” Nat strode toward her, trying to ignore his growing apprehension. “But, honey, that’s wonderful.” He embraced her, squeezing tightly.

  “I sent the publisher the first three chapters,” Shayla said, her voice muffled against his chest. “The editor wants the completed book by the end of August.”

  Nat drew back. “And?”

  “And I don’t have it finished. I need at least another hundred and fifty pages. Maybe more.”

  His mouth was dry. His heart was pounding.

  “There’s no way I can get it finished between now and the end of August. Not with the wedding and the honeymoon and everything else.”

  “Then we’ll postpone the honeymoon.”

  “You would do that for me?”

  “No. I would do it for us.”

  Tears sprang into her eyes. “He didn’t guarantee they would buy it. We might be putting off the honeymoon for no reason.”

  “But it wouldn’t be for no reason.”

  “Thank you.” She placed the palm of her right hand against his left cheek. “Thank you for understanding.”

  I’m not as understanding as I sound, God. I want this for her, but did it have to be now? Is this some sort of test?

  Shayla stepped out of his arms. “It will mean long hours in my office. I’m not a fast writer, and my outline is still a bit sketchy.” She turned away. “Maybe I should have told Mr. Karnes there was no way I could do it.”

  “You’ll do it.” He laid his hands on her shoulders. “I have faith in you.”

  A tiny shudder passed through her.

  “Let’s get to work,” he said, turning her toward him again. “We’ve got to finish packing and get you over to the ranch. You have words to write.”

  “But I—”

  “No buts.” He gave her a smile he didn’t feel. “This’ll all work out. You’ll see.”

  Shayla closed her eyes as she leaned back in her office chair. “Done,” she whispered.

  Despite the time it took to get her office equipment up and running, she had managed to write ten pages today. It was a momentum she hoped to continue. It wouldn’t be easy. Especially once her family arrived. She glanced at the clock. After midnight. The house was silent. Everyone else was asleep. The twins had gone to bed at nine, and about an hour ago, she’d heard Nat and Anne bid each other good-night in the hallway.

  She smiled to herself, remembering her sister’s excitement when she learned of the publisher’s phone call.

  “Oh, Shayla. It’s wonderful. You’re going to be published.”

  “Not yet. Nothing’s for certain.”

  “Yes, it is. I can feel it. It’s going to happen. What can I do to help?”

  I’m blessed, Shayla thought as she closed out of her word processing program and shut down the computer. Both Nat and Anne were being so understanding. Not all that along ago, she’d felt alone in her writing pursuits. Now she felt lifted by the support of her fiancé and sister.

  At the doorway to her new office, she paused and glanced down the hallway toward Nat’s bedroom. No light came from beneath the closed door.

  Father-God, thank You. Thank You for bringing me to this valley and into Nat’s life. Help me to be a good wife and help me to be a good writer.

  After putting on a nightshirt and following her normal bedtime routine of washing her face and brushing her teeth, Shayla tiptoed into the guest bedroom she would share with Anne until Nat’s mother arrived from Florida. Guided by the soft glow of a night-light, she slipped beneath the sheet and blanket, rolled onto her side, and tucked her arm beneath the pillow. Sleep overtook her in an instant. It was the calm before the storm.

  The Vincent family arrived in their rented van at eleven o’clock the next morning. Nat was at the ranch house to greet them, along with Shayla, Anne and the twins.

  Nat was aware of several things as Shayla introduced him to her family. First, that they were a noisy bunch. There was lots of talking and laughing. Second, that they were a genuinely loving family. The kissing and hugging was done in earnest and not out of obligation. And third, that their presence had an immediate, somewhat negative effect on Shayla.

  It took him awhile to figure out what it was. That she loved them was obvious. Her delight in catching up on what had been happening to each of them since she left Oregon was real. So what was it that bothered him?

  Shayla invited everyone inside for a tour of the house. Her mother was as impressed by the large kitchen as Shayla had said she would be. Her father asked Nat lots of questions about the age of the house and how it had been built and when the O’Connells came to the valley.

  The tour moved outside. Crystal, at thirteen, was delighted by the dogs and asked her parents if she could have a pup from the next litter. Olivia took more notice of the two ranch hands who were doctoring an injured heifer in the barn. Anne made certain her younger sister understood that Ty was off-limits. The three brothers seemed most interested in the news that Shayla had taken up horseback riding, expressing their disbelief.

  Nat put a possessive arm around Shayla’s back and gave her a squeeze. “I think you’d be surprised by a lot of the things your sister can do.” He would have continued, might have blurted out the news about her book, but she stopped him with a slight shake of her head.

  They all returned to the house where Shayla served a lunch of grilled hamburgers and tossed salad.

  Nat learned more about the Vincent family over the course of that meal, and toward the end, he realized what it was about Shayla that was different. She had become the caretaker of them all, while at the same time becoming almost invisible to everyone in the room.

  Nat couldn’t claim to be an expert in psychology, but even a cowboy from Idaho could see what was happening before his eyes. He didn’t like it much. He remembered the animated young woman he’d first seen on the deck of her cabin. That wasn’t who he saw before him now.

  His gaze met with Anne’s, and her eyes seemed to say to him, You see it, too?

  Yeah, he saw.

  Shayla stared at the computer monitor, watching the cursor blink on an otherwise blank screen. It was nearly five in the morning. She’d been at her desk all night, and she’d written nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  Of course, she hadn’t been able to get to her office until almost midnight. Even after taking her family to the cabin and getting them settled in, it hadn’t quieted down. There had been several phone calls from her siblings, asking where this or that was. Then Cathy and Angie had gotten into an argument about whose turn it was to feed the dogs for Uncle Nat. He hadn’t been present, of course. He’d driven to the cabin with extra blankets. The twins’ argument had turned to spiteful, hurtful words, followed by buckets of tears. It had taken Shayla fifteen minutes to comfort both girls and get them settled in for the night.

  Elbows on the desk, she rested her forehead against the heels of her hands. “I’m so tired, I can’t think.” She wanted to weep.

  She straightened, rose from her chair, and walked to the window. The horizon was beginning to show the first traces o
f dawn. She could make out the shadowy forms of horses grazing in the paddock. Not even a breeze stirred the trees. It was a beautiful scene, seductively tranquil. But that was deceiving.

  It wouldn’t be tranquil later today or the day after that.

  Or the week after that.

  Or the month after that.

  Nat’s mother would arrive in the afternoon. All of the Vincents would be in and out of the ranch house until after the wedding. The twins would be there until at least next spring.

  How could she be a good wife to Nat, a newlywed, and be a writer at the same time? It was an impossible dream. She would only make him unhappy in the end. She would hurt him less if she broke off things now. Once they made the marriage commitment before God, there would be no going back. Not for either of them.

  No, she must have been mistaken, thinking the Lord wanted her to marry Nat. The call from the publisher should have been a sign to her. Shouldn’t it?

  Oh, God. I want to do what You want me to do. What is it? Show me the way.

  She heard the door open behind her and knew it was Nat.

  “I can’t marry you,” she said over the lump in her throat and the ache in her chest.

  She heard the door close and turned around.

  Nat’s expression was grim as he stared at her.

  “I can’t marry you,” she repeated.

  “Why not?”

  “I just can’t.”

  He didn’t cross the room, didn’t try to change her mind by taking her into his arms. He simply watched her.

  “It costs too much.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I’ll fail the Lord if I stay. I’ll give up on my writing.”

  He remained silent.

  That made her angry. “I want to be a writer. I need to finish this book, and I can’t the way things are. It was you who told me not to let anything get in the way of my dreams.” She cast a challenging glance in his direction.

  “I remember.” His voice was flat, emotionless.

  “Then you should understand.”

  “I understand better than you think.” He released a sigh as he raked his fingers through his hair. “I understand all too well.”