He turned and looked at her. “Something wrong?”
Caught staring! Warmth crept up her neck, and she focused on the TV. “Nothing.”
Murray picked up another brownie. “Why are you keeping this recipe a secret? These are the best brownies I’ve ever tasted.”
She shrugged. He didn’t need to know her dream about publishing her own cookbook someday.
As a football player ran in for a touchdown, both Murray and Derek shot to their feet.
“Great play!” Derek high-fived Murray. “Now the Cardinals are in the lead.”
Murray resumed his seat. “According to the paper, that play was a turning point.”
“Don’t tell us!” Derek laughed.
As the men settled back on the sofa, Tonya stood. “I think I’ll see what Mom is doing.”
Derek swallowed a sip of soda. “Tell her to come in here and watch the game with us.”
“Huh!” Dad reached for another brownie. “Fat chance of that. Your mother thinks football is a waste of time.”
Like mother, like daughter. Leaving the room, Tonya’s thoughts lingered on Murray. At least he hadn’t ignored her all evening as Reed Dickens had. Murray liked her brownies, and, she admitted, she enjoyed his company.
Passing the mirror hanging in the hallway, she stopped to study her reflection. Her dark hair still looked good, but her lipstick had faded and some of her eyelashes were sticking together. How did that happen?
But it didn’t matter. Tonya planned to talk to Mom and then go to bed—after she checked her e-mail. Inexplicably, she hadn’t heard from Poe all weekend. What if he had lost interest in her? That thought stopped her in her tracks, and she determined to write him every day until he replied.
As she made her way to the kitchen, she mused about Poe. Who was he? What did he look like? Murray’s profile came to her mind. From the side, his face was almost handsome. If only his eyes weren’t so close-set.
Murray booted up his computer. It was after midnight, but he didn’t have to report to police headquarters in Cheyenne until three o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Tonya hadn’t returned after she left the den, but maybe she wrote him an e-mail.
Folding his hands behind his head, he sat back in his chair. He hadn’t enjoyed an evening like tonight in a long time. And on his birthday, too! He’d have to write a thank-you note to the Brandts, making sure to print, of course.
His mail popped up with three new letters, all from Tonya Brandt. He forgot that he hadn’t written her since Friday evening. And it never entered his mind to write this morning.
Clicking open the first letter, Murray skimmed through the first two pages—Tonya’s usual surface talk. On page three, she finally commented on his letter from Friday night.
Thanks for the compliment that I’m beautiful, Poe. I’ve had a lot of dates in my life, but a dozen guys wanting to marry me? Oh sure—LOL.
The men I’ve dated could be separated into two camps: the trophy-date types and the smoochers. Either a guy wants to show me off (a beautiful woman hanging on his arm), or he just wants to kiss me (and usually the feeling is not mutual). No one cares about my mind or talents—what makes me tick on the inside. *sigh* It’s hard to be beautiful.
Murray frowned. He couldn’t begin to fathom her predicament—good looks had never been his problem. But here was the real Tonya, revealing her heart, and he had no idea what to say.
His mind wandered back to the evening, sitting next to her on the sofa. He could understand why men would want to kiss her. When he had leaned toward her and gazed into her beautiful dark-blue eyes, kissing her was the first thought that popped into his mind.
But he wasn’t going to toy with her emotions. If he ever kissed Tonya, it would be because he loved her for who she was on the inside, and he would know that she loved him and wanted to kiss him back.
When I fall in love, it will be forever.
The words of the old song ran through his mind, and he hummed a few lines before he expelled a long sigh. It would never be with Tonya.
Chapter 11
Sitting at the kitchen table on Tuesday morning, Tonya carefully applied a coat of fuchsia rose to her fingernails. “If only I could grow them longer, but it’s hard to play the piano with long nails. They have a tendency to click on the keys.”
Mom looked up from the letter she penned to Grandma. “You have such pretty hands, honey.”
“Yeah, as long as I don’t have any warts.” Splaying her fingers, Tonya inspected them but didn’t see any telltale bumps.
The back door opened, and Derek walked in. “Here’s the mail.”
Mom stopped writing. “It came this early?” She glanced at the clock above the stove. “It’s only eight fifteen.”
“No, this is yesterday’s mail. I forgot to pick it up before supper last night since Twitch was here.” He set several envelopes and a magazine beside Mom, then threw an envelope toward Tonya. It landed near her nail polish bottle. “A letter for you, sis.”
Leaning over, she looked at the envelope as she waved her hands back and forth. “There’s no return address, but it’s not from Poe. The handwriting is too wavery.” She glanced up at Derek. “Could you open it for me?”
“Women and their fingernails,” he muttered. Tearing open the envelope, he pulled out a card and began reading silently.
“Derek! You were supposed to open it, not read it.” Tonya grabbed the card, hoping her nails were dry.
Her brother grinned as he left the room. “It’s from your secret pal.”
As Tonya opened the card, a bookmark fell to the table. She picked it up. “I love bookmarks. It says, ‘Tonya: praiseworthy. A woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Proverbs 31:30.’ ” Silently she read the spidery penmanship. I’m praying for you. Have a wonderful day. Your secret pal. She passed the card to her mom. “Who do you think wrote this? It looks like my secret pal is eighty years old.”
Mom studied it. “Hmmm … maybe Horace Frankenberg. He has shaky handwriting.”
“Horace? I hope not.”
Her mother smiled at her. “You’ll have to wait until next week when you find out at the party.” She folded the letter she’d been writing.
Tonya took the card and bookmark. “Well, it doesn’t matter if that old bachelor is my secret pal. I have Poe now.”
Mom frowned. “Have you sent anything to your secret pal? Isn’t it Murray?”
She nodded. “Murray’s my receiver—which is a stupid label, but Reed Dickens made it up. I’ve sent Murray several cards, plus I sent him that devotional book through the mail for his birthday. Remember? And I already bought his gift for the Valentine’s party.” Standing, she grabbed the nail polish bottle. “I’d better hurry. Don’t want to be late for work.”
Two hours later Tonya closed the cash register at the Beauty Spot. “Thanks, Charlotte. See you in six weeks.”
Charlotte Eschbach touched her newly permed coiffure. “Good job, as usual, Tonya.”
As Charlotte left the building, Tonya took a seat on the stool behind the cash register, thankful for a moment’s rest. It had been another busy morning. Aggie stood at her workstation, positioning curlers into Gloria Schutzenhofer’s weekly set, and the two of them chatted away, oblivious to anything else.
The bell above the door jingled, and Murray strode in. He glanced once at Aggie, then motioned for Tonya to come to the door.
She walked to the waiting area.
Turning his back to the room, he dropped his voice. “I talked to Bruce this morning about dating Aggie.”
Tonya’s eyebrows lifted. “And?”
“He’s open to it.” Murray leaned closer, and his breath fanned her face. It smelled sweet, like mint. “But he doesn’t like her outdated hairstyle and loud makeup. He said if she would change a few things, he might ask her out.”
Tonya glanced back at the two women. Still deep in conversation, they didn’t notice the tête-à-tête going on by the door. “I’ll talk to he
r.”
“People don’t change easily, but I suppose it’s worth a try. I’ll work on Bruce.”
“Okay.” She smiled. “This might be fun.”
Murray grinned. “It’ll be interesting, to say the least. See you later.” He strode out the door.
A feeling of peace settled over Tonya as she watched him get in his patrol car and drive away. Murray was no longer the boy who tormented her; he was actually a very nice guy. And he must be a romantic at heart, wanting to get Bruce and Aggie together. That thought surprised her. He always tried to act so macho, but maybe she didn’t know the real Murray.
As she walked back to the cash register, Poe entered her thoughts. Now there was a true romantic soul. Did he know Aggie and Bruce? She would tell Poe about them and ask his advice on the best way to convince Aggie to change.
I thought it might be fun if we could instant message each other every evening. Say nine o’clock?
Excitement buzzed through Tonya as she read Poe’s e-mail. Instant messaging with him would almost be like talking on the phone. But then she frowned. How did someone do instant messaging? She was on Facebook, and she exchanged text messages with a few friends from her cell phone, but she’d never tried to instant message.
Dashing downstairs, she found her mother in the laundry room. “Mom, where’s Derek?”
“In the barn with Dad.” Mom scattered laundry soap in the washer. “What do you need?”
“Instant messaging.”
Mom’s eyebrows dipped in a frown. “Never heard of it.”
Tonya grinned. “I figured you wouldn’t know.”
“What is it?”
“Tell you later.” Tonya left the room. “I’ll get Derek to help me.”
Making her way through the kitchen, she paused to open the oven door. The smell of roasted chicken greeted her, and her stomach growled in return. Hopefully Derek could show her how to instant message before supper.
She entered the mudroom. Mom’s old winter coat hung on a hook beside the door, and Tonya slipped it on before making her way outside.
Low clouds hung heavy with snow in the coming twilight. The wind whistled past her ears, and she hunched her shoulders as she walked the hard dirt path that led to the barn.
The large sliding doors were shut, so Tonya opened the side door to enter. The warmth of the barn enveloped her, along with the smells of leather and horses.
Derek exited one of the horse stalls. “Hey, sis. What are you doing here?”
“Do you know how to instant message?”
“On a computer?”
“Yeah.” Tonya moved toward him. “Poe wants to instant message every evening at nine o’clock, but I don’t know how to do it.”
Derek shrugged. “You need an account. Ask Dad to help you.”
“Ask me what?” Dad’s heavy boots clomped around the corner on the concrete floor.
Tonya turned to him. “Do you have an instant message account, Dad?”
“A what?” Dad looked as perplexed as Mom had.
Tonya sighed. “This family is so computer illiterate.”
“Call Twitch.” Derek walked back to the stall. “He’ll explain it to you.”
“Yep.” Dad nodded. “If it’s about computers, Murray will know.”
Murray placed his supper dishes in the kitchen sink just as the phone rang. He raised his eyebrows. Two phone calls in two days. How amazing was that?
He picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Murray, this is Tonya.”
Tonya is calling me? The force of the surprise pushed him back against the counter. “Oh, um, hi, Tonya. How are you?”
“Murray, I need to instant message someone, but no one in my family has a clue how it’s done, and I really need to find out before this evening.”
He grinned. “Instant messaging, huh? Do you have an account?”
“I don’t think so.” She sounded perplexed. “How long does it take to get one?”
“Oh, three minutes at the most. I could walk you through it. Do you want me to come over?”
“That would be great.” Relief poured through her words. “The sooner, the better.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hung up the phone—and laughed.
Tonya: So how should I approach Aggie about changing her hairstyle? She’s been wearing her hair in this whipped-up beehive for years. Being a beautician, she thinks she has a corner on style, and she can be very stubborn.
Tonya hit the RETURN button, then sat back to wait for Poe’s reply. Glancing at the clock beside her bed, she was surprised that it was almost eleven. They’d been instant messaging, which Poe called “IMing,” for almost two hours.
And she had to get up early for work tomorrow. She threw on her I Love Lucy pajamas. By that time Poe had replied.
Poe: It sounds like Bruce doesn’t want to have a 1960s fashion queen hanging on his arm. LOL He wants his date to live in the twenty-first century, and in that case, Aggie could either win or lose Bruce on her hairstyle alone. If you convinced her of that, she would probably be willing to try something new.
Positioning her fingers on the keyboard, Tonya started typing.
Tonya: You are one smart guy! I’ll try to convince her. Thanks for the advice!
Poe: You’re welcome.
Tonya: I hate to end our first conversation, but I need to get to bed. Tomorrow is a workday for me.
Poe: I have off tomorrow. You certainly don’t need your “beauty sleep” since you are extremely beautiful, but I’ll let you go. Good night.
Tonya: Wait! What do you do for a living?
Poe: Haha! Wouldn’t you like to know?
Tonya: Yes, I would!
Poe: Sorry, classified information. Let’s IM tomorrow night at nine. Good night.
Tonya: Good night, Poe.
With a sigh, she shut down her computer. Who in the world was this guy? And how many days or weeks would pass before she found out?
“Change my hairstyle?” Aggie’s ultra-blue eyelids widened as she stared at Tonya. “Do you know how ugly I am with flat hair? Why, the birds would stop singing, the stars would stop shining if I were to let my hair down. No, no, no.” She ambled to the broom closet. “If Bruce don’t like me the way I am, he can go fish for someone else.”
Tonya rolled her eyes. Stubborn woman! “Listen, let me fix your hair and do your makeup for one date—just for one evening. Then the next morning, you can style your hair any way you want.”
The broom swished as Aggie swept up after their last customer. Tonya stepped back so she wouldn’t inhale the tiny curls that were flying through the air. When Aggie said nothing, Tonya made another attempt to appeal to her reason.
“Don’t you think Bruce is worth it, Aggie? I mean, look at him—such a handsome, dignified man. I’m sure you’d love to be hanging on his arm at some sophisticated restaurant. And you’ll want to look like you belong in the twenty-first century, cultured and refined—”
“Instead of looking like the hick that I am.” Aggie’s eyes spit fire as she stared at Tonya.
“That’s not what I meant.” Tonya sank down on a chair. “But Bruce has very particular tastes. You, of all people, should know that.”
The broom handle hit the floor as Aggie dropped into the other chair. “Oh, I suppose you’re right.” Her shoulders drooped. “Maybe it ain’t gonna work out between us after all. We just come from two different worlds.”
“It can work, Aggie.” Tonya leaned forward. “Bruce only wants you to tone down your makeup a bit, and … and step out of the ‘60s with your hairstyle. He’s a very reserved gentleman, and he doesn’t want to be noticed.” She thought on that a moment. “Although he’s so dignified and good-looking, people notice him anyway.”
“Don’t I know it!” Aggie paused. “I suppose I could change for him.” The stubborn glint returned to her eyes. “But only for one date, mind you.”
“That’s all he’s asking.” Tonya gave an inward sigh o
f relief.
Now to talk to Murray.
Chapter 12
At the Valentine’s party on Saturday, Murray unwrapped his gift as the Single Servings watched. They were taking turns opening their gifts, and after the gift was opened, the secret pal would reveal his or her identity.
Derek had told Murray that he wanted a comfortable place to have the Valentine’s party, but he didn’t want to move all the furniture to the church again. So here they were, crowded into the Brandts’ living room. Murray sat on the same blue chair as before. Most of the men sat on straight chairs they had dragged in from the dining room. Across from Murray, Tonya sat on the sofa between Cheyenne and Laurie Smullens. Laurie and Reed had recently broken up as a couple, and Reed seemed to be scouting out other possibilities. Near the fireplace, he sat beside Gretchen Hughes, the quietest woman ever born, and tried to engage her in conversation.
Murray finally pulled the gift wrap off his present, revealing an atomic watch. “Wow, this is nice!” Raising his eyebrows, he glanced around the room.
Tonya smiled. “It’s from me, Murray. I was your secret pal.”
His lips parted. Tonya was his secret pal, and he was hers? “Thanks for the watch, Tonya. This is great. I really like it.”
Nodding, she looked down and her face tinged pink.
Murray gazed at her. Tonya—embarrassed? Or was it humility? She didn’t realize how much humility complemented her beauty.
Derek sat on a straight chair near the fireplace. “Okay, Tonya. Why don’t you open your gift now?”
As Tonya savagely tore the paper from the gift Murray had painstakingly wrapped, he glanced at Derek. Had Tonya’s brother purposely set them up as each other’s secret pal? Murray would ask Derek later how that came about. He couldn’t picture Derek trying to play matchmaker.
“Oh!” Tonya’s pretty eyes widened. “It’s a book of hymn arrangements for the piano. Oh, I love it!” She glanced around, her eyes landing on the men near the dining room. “Horace, did you give this to me?”
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