Tumbleweed Weddings

by Donna Robinson

  “I can’t believe my little sister’s getting married,” Callie Hutchins whispered. She was wearing a light-green dress, which didn’t do a thing for her dark eyes.

  Cheyenne smiled at her best friend. “I love weddings, and this one’s going to be so pretty.” She glanced at the front of the auditorium. The men stood on the platform, waiting for the ten attendants in Tonya Brandt’s wedding. There were only four men, two standing on each side of the groom. Four women would join them on the platform, and the other six girls would stand below, forming a circle of pastel “flowers”—as Tonya described it.

  Callie leaned toward her. “By the way, happy birthday.”

  “Thanks!” That was all Cheyenne had thought of today. A pang of apprehension stabbed her. She had exactly two years to fulfill the conditions of Grandmother’s will, which was never far from her mind.

  No use thinking about that during Tonya’s wedding, although she wished she could tell Callie about the will. But Mr. Griggs was adamant that she and Dad keep that info to themselves.

  She turned to Callie with a smile. “Dad already gave me a present this morning at breakfast.”

  Callie raised her eyebrows. “What was it?”

  “A ruby necklace he had given Mom when they were dating. I never saw it before, and I love it!”

  “That was thoughtful of him. It’s something you can remember your mom by.”

  “Yeah, I’m planning to wear it to church tomorrow.”

  Evelyn Seymour, the wedding coordinator, hushed them as she walked by. She adjusted her black-rimmed glasses. “Be ready for your turn, girls.” She waved her sheaf of papers toward the auditorium.

  Cheyenne glanced behind her at the bride. Tonya stood beside her father, Jake Brandt, with her arm laced through his. She looked beautiful, as always, with her perfect complexion and dark hair and eyes. A tiny tiara crowned her head, and a veil flowed down her back. Jake stood tall and confident, as well he should be. He’d already given away three daughters—Melissa, Callie, and Molly. He must be a pro at this by now.

  With a last glance at Tonya, Cheyenne held in a sigh. The tiny sequins sewn on the lace of Tonya’s bridal gown, which she had designed herself, glinted in the overhead lights as she moved. But it was the bride’s figure that Cheyenne envied. The dress had a fitted waist, and Tonya’s waist must have a smaller diameter than one of Cheyenne’s thighs.

  I haven’t been that thin since I was ten!

  The organ music changed, and Evelyn waved her papers. “That’s your cue, girls.” She corralled the first six girls to the door, and they walked down the aisle, two by two, and then fanned out across the front of the auditorium as they rehearsed last evening.

  Cheyenne moved into place and stepped into the aisle at Evelyn’s prompting. Sucking in her stomach, she smiled and slowly walked down the aisle, feeling curious eyes on her from every crowded pew as she moved past.

  As she neared the platform, she glanced ahead at the groom. Murray Twichell smiled back at her as he stood beside Pastor Reilly. Her glance flitted to Jon Hunt, the best man, and then landed on Derek Brandt. He was her destination.

  Pinching the satin skirt of her gown, she pulled up the fabric a couple of inches and ascended the three steps of the platform. She raised her eyes to Derek’s handsome face as she drew nearer. He smiled at her, his dark-blue eyes holding hers.

  If only that look and smile meant something! But it had been rehearsed last night, as per Evelyn’s instructions. With an inward sigh, Cheyenne turned to face the audience, standing as close to Derek as she dared.

  Melissa walked the length of the aisle and ascended the platform on the other side, sharing a smile with her husband, Philip, before stopping at his side. Then it was Molly’s turn. After walking up the stairs, she stood beside Jon, near Cheyenne. Callie came down the aisle last, as the matron of honor. Her husband, Lane, smiled at her as she took her place between him and the pastor.

  The music changed once again, and the congregation stood to turn and watch the bride. Tonya seemed to float down the aisle on her father’s arm. A beautiful smile lit her face as she gazed at her groom.

  Tears crept to Cheyenne’s eyes, and she sent up a silent prayer. Oh Lord, this is what I want. She had been in love with Derek since high school, ever since he asked her to the prom when he was a junior and she was a senior. But for the past ten years, their relationship had deadlocked into being nothing more than good pals. He seemed to enjoy spending time with her, but they always hung out in a group. Would he ever view her as more than a friend?

  And now with Grandmother’s will hanging over her head …

  She glanced across the platform as Tonya and Jake stopped in front of the pastor. All the couples in the bridal party were married to each other—except for her and Derek. Melissa and Philip, Callie and Lane, Molly and Jon, and now, of course, Tonya and Murray. They were all part of the Brandt family, too.

  Is that a sign, Lord?

  Derek didn’t plan to get married until he was forty. At least, that’s what he told his sisters. Evidently he enjoyed living at home, letting his mom make his meals and do his laundry, and working on that huge sheep ranch with his dad.

  But Cheyenne wasn’t about to let him remain single, not with the Last Will and Testament of Florence Ingersoll pressing her into marriage. As the ceremony progressed, her determination increased at the same time. She would lose weight and make a concentrated effort to win Derek’s hand.

  Win his hand? That would be a role reversal, but she couldn’t depend on Mr. Laid-Back to win her hand. If she left it up to Derek, she would be forty-one years old before they married, if they married at all.

  And that would definitely invalidate Grandmother’s will.

  Tonya and Murray repeated their vows, gazing into each other’s eyes. Cheyenne could only see Tonya’s face, but she envied the look of love the bride held for her bridegroom. A wistful sigh escaped Cheyenne’s lips. Maybe someday … but not too far into the future.

  Next week would be good.

  Derek relaxed on the blue chair in the living room, thankful the wedding was over and he was now wearing comfortable clothes. Why did people have to make such a big fuss about weddings anyway?

  After the cake-only reception at the church, all the Brandt relatives had descended on the house en masse, and the noise level drifted up to the ceiling and bounced back to Derek. He laid his head back on the chair and watched the ceiling fan turn in lazy circles. His eyes began to close when a commotion roused him.

  “Hey, everybody.” Tonya, dressed now in a classy skirt and blouse, stood in the middle of the living room, her dark eyes shining. “Before Murray and I leave, we all have to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Cheyenne.” She nodded to her husband. “Ready?”

  Murray started the song, and everyone joined in.

  Easing out of his chair, Derek rumbled in on the third line. He glanced at Cheyenne, standing near the fireplace. Her round face sported a smile, and Derek thought the two deep dimples in her cheeks made her cute.

  When the song ended, she nodded at the crowd. “Thanks, everyone! I’ve had a wonderful birthday.”

  Derek kept his eyes on Cheyenne as she hugged a few well-wishers, and something stirred deep inside him. He and Cheyenne had been best buddies for years, but sometimes it hit him how pretty she was.

  “Okay, folks.” Dad strode through the living room. “Time for the happy couple to leave. I’ll get my car keys.”

  Tonya and Murray followed him but stopped every few seconds to receive hugs from the many aunts, uncles, and cousins, not to mention brothers and sisters, who lined the room.

  Derek waited until Murray stepped in front of him. “Is Dad driving you guys to Denver?”

  “Yep.” Murray looked up at him. “We’re staying at the Brown Palace Hotel tonight. Our flight leaves Denver International Airport at one o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Stay safe, Twitch.” Derek shook Murray’s hand. “I hope you two have a great h
oneymoon in Hawaii.”

  “We will.” Murray cocked an eyebrow at him before he smiled.

  Derek grinned. Twitch got the girl he wanted.

  “Bye, Derek!” Tonya threw her arms around his shoulders.

  He hugged her. “Have fun, sis. We’ll be praying for a safe trip.”

  “Thanks.”

  The crowd followed the happy couple to the door and flowed outside behind them. Everyone waved as they drove off, with Mom and Grandma waving handkerchiefs, and then they all tramped back into the house.

  Above the din of the noisy relatives, Lane tapped Derek on the shoulder. “Callie wants to eat at Mama’s Kitchen in Lusk for a nice quiet dinner. Want to go with us? I’m paying.”

  “Sure. I’m always game for a free meal at a good restaurant.”

  Lane grinned. “I’ll let her know. Most of the relatives are leaving, and Mom is going to Casper with Grandma for a week. Callie wants to say good-bye to everyone. Then the four of us will go out to eat.”

  Derek frowned. “The four of us?”

  “Callie invited Cheyenne.”

  “Oh.” Derek watched Lane wend his way past several uncles out to the kitchen. Was this date Callie’s idea? His sisters were always trying to throw Cheyenne and him together.

  Not that there was anything wrong with Cheyenne. He glanced around the crowded living room, but she was gone. If he ever got married, Cheyenne Wilkins would be the kind of wife he would choose—godly, vivacious, pretty.

  But for the past several years, Derek felt the Lord wanted him to stay single in order to serve Him. And the Lord was keeping him busy. Besides his regular volunteer work at the orphanage in Casper, he planned to help build a church in Honduras in October. Then there was the soup kitchen that requested volunteers during the holidays.

  The last thing Derek needed was a dating relationship. He knew that dating a girl took time and money. But it wouldn’t hurt to go out on this impromptu date with Cheyenne.

  Besides, it was her birthday.

  “Don’t tell the waiter it’s my birthday.” Cheyenne whispered the words to Callie, using her tall menu to not only guide her words across the table but also keep Derek and Lane from hearing. “All the servers will sing to me.”

  “But they’ll give you a free cake.” Callie spoke so softly that Cheyenne had to read her lips.

  Cheyenne lowered her own voice to almost nonexistent. “That’s the problem. I’m trying to lose weight.”

  “You don’t have to eat it.” Callie motioned sideways with her head. “Give it to Derek.”

  “But if it gets too close to me, I won’t be able to help myself.”

  Derek cleared his throat. “What are you girls whispering about?”

  “Nothing.” Cheyenne laid her menu on the table as she glanced at Derek sitting beside her. “I think I’ll order the soup and salad.” She took a sip of her water.

  He looked back at his menu. “I’m getting the lasagna.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Across the table, Lane closed his menu and looked at his wife. “What about you, Callie?”

  She was hidden behind her menu. “I’m still deciding.”

  The waiter, a short man with a mop of black hair and a thick mustache, stopped at their table. “Are you ready to order this evening?” He had a charming Italian accent.

  Derek motioned toward Cheyenne. “She’ll have the soup and salad, and I’ll take the lasagna.”

  “Very good.” The waiter pulled a pad from his white apron pocket and wrote it down.

  Cheyenne’s heart swelled. Derek had ordered for her, like they were on a real date! She had been apprehensive about how he would react to this double date, but now she relaxed, leaning a little closer to him.

  An hour later the waiter came to collect their dirty dishes. Cheyenne could have eaten more, but she wanted to leave hungry, hoping it would make her a pound or two lighter.

  The waiter glanced around as he picked up the salad bowl. “Did you save room for dessert?”

  Callie shook her head. “I’m too full.”

  “So am I,” Cheyenne agreed, even though it wasn’t quite true.

  Like a common hitchhiker, Derek pointed his thumb at Cheyenne as he addressed the waiter. “It’s her birthday today.”

  Cheyenne gasped. “Derek! You would have to bring that up!”

  He grinned at her.

  The waiter inclined his head toward her. “It will be our pleasure to sing to such a beautiful woman.”

  What a flirt! Cheyenne smiled at him. “Thanks.”

  In a few minutes, seven people surrounded their table, all dressed in white aprons. Instead of singing the traditional birthday song, they sang some other ditty, accompanied by hand clapping and feet stomping. When they finished, the waiter set a tiny cake in front of her, complete with piped frosting and a red rose in the center.

  “Thank you.” She smiled at the servers as they offered their congratulations before leaving.

  Derek threw his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “We got you good, Cheyenne.”

  She smiled back at him, his face only inches away. If only they were a bona fide couple! But in another second his arm lifted, and she felt the loss.

  The waiter stood at the end of their table. “Would you like anything else for dessert?” His dark-brown eyes glanced between Lane and Derek.

  Lane frowned. “Don’t you have some type of cream puffs on the menu?”

  “Ah yes, the cannoli.” The waiter wrote it down and turned to Derek.

  He shrugged. “I’ll have the same.”

  When the waiter left, Cheyenne forced her fingers to slide the cake in front of Derek. “You can have this, too. I’m”—on a diet—“too full to eat it.” “Thanks.” Derek picked up his extra fork then looked at Lane. “Want a bite?”

  “Nah.” Lane eyed the cake. “It’s only big enough for one person.”

  “A single serving.” Derek raised his eyebrows. “Just like my Sunday school class, the Single Servings. Too bad you two aren’t in my class anymore. We miss you.”

  Callie looked at her husband with a sly smile. “I’d rather be married.” Lane waggled his eyebrows at her. “We’re not single servings anymore, are we, Callie? We’re double portions.” Derek laughed.

  “I just realized …” Cheyenne looked at Derek. “Tonya and Murray won’t be in the Single Servings anymore either. If your class members keep getting married, you soon won’t have a singles class.”

  “I’ll be there.” He leaned toward her, a pleading expression in his dark-blue eyes. “Don’t leave me, okay?”

  Before she could reply, the waiter brought two plates of cannoli to the table.

  Cheyenne glanced at Callie, who hid a smile behind her water glass. Cheyenne smiled back, a little thrill running through her.

  Someday she and Derek would be double portions—and by the end of this year, if she had anything to say about it.

  Chapter 3

  On Sunday morning, Cheyenne adjusted the waistband of her black skirt as she opened her bedroom door. Dad’s collie ran down the short hallway of their one-floor home and jumped on her, his nails scratching against her favorite gray blouse with silver hearts. He barked out a greeting as his tail wagged.

  “Marshal! Get down.” Cheyenne brushed her hand across her skirt. “Oh great. Now I’ll have dog hair on me when I go to church.” Her fingers slid across something wet. “Yuck! Dog slobber is even worse.”

  The collie sat down and panted, his almond-shaped eyes gazing up at her.

  Cheyenne’s heart melted. “Okay, I forgive you—especially when you smile at me like that.”

  Marshal came from a litter of collies from the Rocking B Ranch. The Brandt family always used collies as their sheepdogs, and Jake and Yvette had given Marshal to Dad as a birthday gift three years ago. Patting the dog on his head, Cheyenne walked past him and entered the kitchen. Her dad sat at the table, reading the Sunday paper. She perused her father. Jim Wilkins was dressed for church
in a dark-green shirt with the cuffs rolled back, exposing his meaty hands and thick wrists.

  Why did I have to inherit a Wilkins body? All her dad’s brothers and sisters had big bones. On the other hand, her mom, who had died from leukemia when Cheyenne was eight years old, had been of average height and weight.

  Opening a cupboard, she pulled out a coffee mug. “Good morning, Dad.”

  Glancing up, his blue eyes met hers. He ran his hand over his full head of gray hair. “Morning, baby girl.” His booming voice echoed in the small kitchen. “Sleep good?”

  “I guess so.” Cheyenne poured herself a cup of coffee. Dad had called her “baby girl” ever since she could remember.

  Folding the paper, he laid it on the table and stood. A pink-flowered tie blossomed on his barrel-like chest. What decade had that tie come from? “Dad, why aren’t you wearing the tie I picked out for you last night?”

  Frowning, he lifted the end of the tie. “I like this one.” He glanced at the clock on the stove. “I need to leave. I’m the greeter at church this morning.”

  She sighed. “Okay, Dad. I’ll see you when I get there.”

  He pulled her into a quick bear hug before grabbing his keys. “See ya.”

  Dad was tall—six foot five. At least Cheyenne hadn’t grown to that height. It was bad enough being almost six feet tall. And she was thankful she hadn’t inherited his loud voice.

  As she sipped her coffee, she glanced out the kitchen window. Dad backed his Town Car out the short driveway and roared off down the street toward church. Cheyenne fingered the ruby necklace Dad had given her yesterday—the necklace that had belonged to her mom. A melancholy feeling swept over her. She missed her mom. Dad had been a widower now for twenty years.

  In the quiet, she heard her cell phone ring. Taking a quick walk back to her bedroom, she pulled the phone from her purse and glanced at the number. Marshal padded to her side as she flipped it open. “Hi, Callie!”

  “Cheyenne, I need your help.” She sounded agitated.

  “What’s up, girlfriend?”

  “Lane is really sick this morning.”

  Cheyenne raised her eyebrows. “He was okay last night at the restaurant.”