Take the Trophy and Run Read online

  “Gail Sattler’s funny and endearing romances have long been favorites of mine. You’ll soon be a fan too!”

  —Colleen Coble, author of

  The Rock Harbor Series and The Lonestar Series

  “I’ve been a Gail Sattler fan for a long, long time, so I wasn’t at all surprised to find myself laughing out loud at her snappy dialogue, cheering every lovable character . . . and missing them when this entertaining, uplifting story ended! Better ink your return address stamp, because you’re not gonna want to let this one get very far from your ‘keepers’ shelf. Take the Trophy and Run is one of the most enjoyable novels I’ve read in ages!”

  —Loree Lough, best-selling author of

  84 award-winning books, including An Honorable Man (#3 in the First Responders series)

  “A colorful, light-hearted romance filled with quirky characters. Just the kind of book I love to read. Gail has produced another winner in my opinion.”

  —Lena Nelson Dooley, author Maggie’s Journey,

  Mary’s Blessing, and Love Finds You in Golden,

  New Mexico, a Will Rogers Medallion Award winner

  Take the Trophy and Run, Digital Edition

  Based on Print Edition

  Copyright © 2012 by Gail Sattler

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America

  978-1-4336-7729-8

  Published by B&H Publishing Group

  Nashville, Tennessee

  Dewey Decimal Classification: F

  Subject Heading: MYSTERY FICTION LOVE STORIES FAIRIES—FICTION

  Publisher’s Note: The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

  Dedicated to the real “Stan the Mechanic.”

  I love ya, Dad.

  If you were a gnome, where would you go?

  While most people have heard stories of world-famous traveling gnomes, the truth is that most gnomes spend all their “lives” in the gardens of their owners, where I’m sure they are very happy.

  But I suspect some gnomes out there wish they could travel, only they don’t have the means to jet off to foreign and exotic destinations.

  I hope this inspires all the gnomes lovers out there who can help their gnomes to travel—even if those gnomes don’t go very far from their own back yard. But no gnome gnapping allowed.

  Winning isn’t everything.

  But losing isn’t so great either.

  Dear Reader,

  Have you ever felt trapped in a difficult situation that seems to be spiraling out of your control, even after you’ve sought God for help? Then, when at last you see all the pieces finally fitting together and things are going the way you want, something happens and your world turns upside down, again, and you wonder what just hit you?

  In Take the Trophy and Run, Amber Weathersby tries to find answers that just keep evading her, and time is running short. Even though her oldest and dearest friend is with her at every twist and turn, she is too afraid of potential risks to ask for help.

  But God doesn’t want us to be alone. He instructs us to bond together, to give help to those who need it, and also, even when it’s hard, to accept help when it is freely given.

  I’m glad you’ve joined with me to share the adventures of Amber and Stan as they strive to find the treasure they seek, even though they are striving for a different prize.

  Gail Sattler

  Contents

  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

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter One

  Amber Weathersby stepped back and rested her fists on her hips. “What do you think? Is it too much?”

  Kathy tilted her head, tapping her finger to her chin as she studied Amber’s garden gnome standing proudly in the middle of Amber’s kitchen. “I’m not sure. Does my son know why you borrowed his sombrero? He’s had it since he was a child. Are you sure nothing will happen to it?”

  Amber bit back a grin, keeping her face turned toward Stan’s small sombrero, which sat atop the gnome’s head. He had told Amber exactly what he wanted to see happen to it, but couldn’t tell his mother. For some reason, his mother considered it much more special than he did.

  Amber pressed one hand over her heart. “I plan to take good care of it.” At the end of the party, she planned to carry out Stan’s wishes. Someone would either step on it or run over it with their car.

  “You do such a great job displaying the trophy every year. The ceremony wouldn’t be the same without you. None of our ceremonies would.”

  Amber smiled. “Creating all the displays for the garden club is so much fun. I love doing this, no matter what the occasion.”

  Not only was it fun, it was the difference that kept her business alive and food on her table. For the last five years she’d loaned her custom-designed garden gnome to the club for the spring celebration. Then, for every other occasion or party, the garden club purchased a selection of specially designed ornaments from her, raffling them off when the party was over.

  As well, with the start of each new growing season, every member purchased a new Bloomfield Garden Club ornament from Amber, a new design every year. For the garden club, it was the most important time of the year. When the new growth sprang forth, the garden club celebrated with The Spring Fling.

  Not only was the Bloomfield Garden Club her best customer, the prominent members were also good clients, and almost everyone in the garden club was a good friend.

  Her membership had nothing to do with her gardening skills. Whenever she attempted to nurture outdoor plants, her garden either turned yellow and limp or became an artistic arrangement of petrified sticks. Nothing had the color or vitality promised by the little plastic tags that came with the plants.

  The only plant that had lived a happy and full life was a potato she’d dropped out of her grocery bag. It had bounced into the flower bed by the front door, where she’d accidentally stepped on it, sinking it into the soil. Then, being out of sight, she’d forgotten about it until it mysteriously sprouted into a plant that eventually grew cute little white flowers. It was the first plant she’d grown successfully from scratch.

  The only reason she’d been allowed to renew her membership at the garden club after killing off her entire garden and part of her neighbor’s was because Stan found enough spare parts in his auto repair shop to rig a timed sprinkler for her. She’d made him a deathbed promise not to second-guess the sprinklers and never manually water anything in her garden ever again. B
ecause of Stan, she’d kept a few hardy plants alive, even if they were a little burned from too much fertilizer.

  Amber extended her arm and opened her palm toward the gnome, who proudly held the annual trophy. “Pamela says the winner of the best early garden for The Spring Fling contest is Becky. I think the Mexican look will work well with the colors that are blooming in her yard. What do you think?”

  “I think Becky cheated. She’s gloated for weeks about her secret formula for some kind of new fertilizer she’s been using. I don’t know what she’s doing, but it can’t be legal.”

  “I don’t think there can be such a thing as illegal fertilizer.”

  Kathy made an undignified snort. “Becky found it, and she’s been using it. No one can grow such full roses so early. It’s not right. Not even Libby’s roses are so lush this early in the season. I plan to talk to Libby about that.”

  Even in the garden club, jealousy still reared its ugly head. Amber patted Kathy on the shoulder. “I thought you and Becky were friends.”

  Kathy made a grunt that sounded like a growling dog. “We are friends. But we’d be better friends if she shared her fertilizer.”

  Amber bit back a grin. “Then figure out your own secret formula and maybe you’ll win next year. But for this year, it’s time to get going. The ceremony can’t start without the trophy. Stan will help me set up everything at Becky’s, and then we’ll meet you at the clubhouse. I’ll see you there.”

  “How’s this?” Stan Wilson forced himself to smile as he moved Amber’s gnome for the fifth time, hopefully placing it at the angle she wanted.

  “No, a little to the left. You’ve got him too close to the tree.”

  “Like this?” He nudged it exactly two inches then stepped away.

  “That’s better. People will take pictures of Gnorman and he can’t be half in the shadow as the sun moves.”

  The lecturing face of their former science teacher flashed through his mind. “It’s not really the sun that moves, it’s the earth that . . . Norman? You named a garden statue?”

  “Yes, but it’s not what you think. It’s spelled with a G. Then an N. Gnorman the Gnome.”

  Stan shook his head and jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the gnome in question. “You can’t spell Norman that way. It’s not right.”

  “That’s the way it’s spelled. Live with it.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “He’s custom-designed to hold the trophy, so he’s very special. Since he’s special, he had to have a special name, and Gnorman, with a G, worked.”

  Stan stared at the little gnome who had been a fun tradition of the routine for the annual contest. Stan’s tiny sombrero made the small man-like statue as tall as Stan’s knees. Or was that gnees? He shook his head. He’d never known the gnome had a gname . . . er . . . name. Norman. No. Gnorman.

  Stan shook his head once more to clear the gnocking . . . knocking . . . in his brain. “I give up. Gnorman, it is. Why is he all dressed up this year?”

  “Do you remember a few years ago in the newspaper they had a story about a garden gnome who was kidnapped and became a world traveler?”

  “Yeah, that was quite a story.”

  “Exactly. I think Gnorman would want to travel, but he can’t go very far. After all, he has responsibilities. So he’ll do the next best thing. He’ll wear your old sombrero and the poncho I made for him, and he’ll think he’s gone on vacation to a beautiful exotic place.”

  Stan had never thought of Mexico as exotic, but then again, he’d never been there. “I think it’s you who really wants to take a vacation in Mexico. It’s not that expensive. Why don’t you find someone to run your store and go?” Stan held his breath, waiting for her reply. In his dreams she would say she would love to go to Mexico but didn’t know who she could ask to go with her on such short notice, and of course, he’d volunteer. He’d volunteer to go anywhere with Amber, even if it was just to the next county.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? I’m not saying to close the store and disappear. Just that you should hire someone to run things for a few days and have a nice holiday.”

  Her eyes widened, and he knew she was thinking about it. But instead of the smile he expected, along with her softening and changing of her mind, her expression tightened. She looked away. “I can’t do that.”

  Stan opened his mouth to argue with her, but she turned back to him and gave him that look she’d used since they were in their teens that always froze him solid.

  He wanted to tell her that he’d go with her, separate rooms, of course, and if she couldn’t find someone to run her store, he would have one of his mechanics do it. Jordan wouldn’t be much help if people asked for help on matching colors for the decorative items she carried, but Jordan certainly could be polite to customers and work the cash register. Most of all, knowing Jordan and his wife had a baby on the way, Jordan would really appreciate a few additional days of work to earn a little extra money.

  From the look on her face, she’d shoot down any suggestion he made. Even though they’d spent most of their time together when they weren’t working, it really wasn’t appropriate for them to go on vacation together, no matter how good buddies they were. All things considered, people would be bound to think the wrong thing. He would never do anything to tarnish Amber’s reputation, and most importantly he would never do anything to damage their friendship.

  He raised one hand in surrender. “Even if you don’t take a vacation, I still think you work too much. You need some time off.”

  Amber planted her fists on her hips and gave him the look. He forced himself not to cringe. She’d worked on that look to get her way back in the days when they reached puberty and he grew taller than her. A dozen years later it still worked. He wondered if she practiced in a mirror and if she used that look on anyone else.

  She narrowed her eyes. The look intensified. “Unlike you, I don’t have people working for me, so I have to work six days a week unless I shut down for a day, and I can’t do that.”

  He wanted to tell her that, of course, she could. If she didn’t want Jordan, he could loan her one of his other two mechanics. But that look kept his lips sealed.

  Plain and simple, Amber worked too hard. Saturday was the busiest day for both their businesses, but Stan only worked Saturdays to give his employees weekends off to be home with their families. Unlike Amber, he took two days off—Sunday and Wednesday, and he could be flexible. “If you won’t take the time off to go on vacation, how about if you take next Wednesday off and we’ll go do something fun. Just something local.”

  Her face paled. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” He stood still, waiting for a reason, but instead of explaining, she lowered her head and dug around for something in her purse.

  Gathering more courage than it took to tell Andy Barnhardt that he needed a new transmission, he stepped forward and stood close enough that she couldn’t ignore him. “You haven’t answered me. What aren’t you telling me? I thought we told each other everything.”

  “I . . .” Her voice trailed off as she pulled her hands out of her purse and began to close the zipper, but her hands shook too much to pull it in a straight line, and it jammed.

  He stepped back. “Amber? What’s wrong?” He didn’t think taking a day to goof off with him was such a scary proposition.

  “Nothing,” she mumbled without looking up at him, which told him that something was indeed wrong. “We’d better get to the party. We don’t want them to wait for us to announce the winner.”

  Stan suspected that everyone knew the winner anyway, the way the members gossiped. Every year the garden club did the same thing; they served tea and some bad pastries made by one of the ladies in the group while Amber set up her gnome in the winner’s garden. This year, instead of setting up tab
les and chairs in the courtyard at the amenities building at Lake Bliss Retirement Village, which they used as their clubhouse, he’d insisted on going with Amber, using the excuse that he was entitled to help since it was his sombrero.

  They drove the four blocks in silence. As he expected, when they joined the party already in progress, everyone stopped talking and stared at Amber. Pamela Jasper, the president of the garden club, waved to her and then stepped up to the makeshift podium.

  “May I have your attention, please?” Pamela shouted, not having the benefit of a microphone, as if anyone in the group would dare talk during a moment like this.

  The hush spread like oil leaking from a filter that hadn’t been tightened properly. Amber grinned from ear to ear while Pamela called out, “The winner of this year’s Spring Fling Early Bloomer contest is . . . Becky!”

  Everyone, except Stan’s mother, clapped enthusiastically.

  “Now let’s all go to Becky’s and continue the party!”

  The whole garden club, complete with spouses, friends, and guests, prepared themselves to change locations. A few headed to their cars, but most of the members picked up their teacups and walked the short distance to Becky’s house. Stan could imagine what their mismatched group looked like to the people on the street who weren’t members. Including the guests for today’s party, there had to be over a hundred people in their group.

  Considering that some of the garden club members were elderly, they made the distance in pretty good time.

  Everyone gathered in a semicircle in front of Becky’s garden.

  Pamela made her way to the front and faced the crowd. “Here we are! Congratulations again, Becky. It’s that time we’ve been waiting for all year; it’s my great pleasure to award you The Spring Fling trophy.” She smiled and clapped her hands, encouraging everyone to do the same. “Becky, please come forward.”

  The crowd separated to allow Becky to join Pamela.

  Pamela turned to Amber. “We’re getting pretty excited to see our faithful little friend. Where is he?”