Cheyenne raised her eyebrows. “But that’s way out of your way.”
“My schedule is flexible. Besides”—he grinned at her—“you went out of your way when I was sick last week, so it’s the least I can do to pay you back.”
“You don’t have to pay me back, Derek, but I do need a ride.” And it would be more time spent with him. She hadn’t seen much of him lately. “Okay, I’ll take you up on your offer.”
He nodded. “What time should I pick you up tomorrow night? Six thirty?”
“Sounds good.” In fact, the whole plan sounded better than good.
Now if only Tom Shoemacher would keep her car for a while!
On Friday evening, Derek sat on a folding chair beside Cheyenne at the Maximum Cut in Lusk. He watched a girl with a brown ponytail apply makeup to the pasty face of another girl, but she wasn’t the only student taking the makeup test. All five beautician chairs in the room were occupied, with each student industriously applying makeup to her model.
The teacher, with fluffy brown hair piled on top of her head and shaved up the back, walked around and wrote notes about each girl’s demonstration on a clipboard.
With a sigh, Derek folded his arms. Too bad he hadn’t brought a book to read.
Sitting next to Cheyenne, he could almost feel the tension radiating from her. Tonya had not shown up yet. Cheyenne had tried to call her several times, but her cell phone wouldn’t connect.
Leave it to Tonya to be late.
Cheyenne’s phone chirped. “Finally!” She flipped it open. “Tonya, where are you?” She listened for a few minutes.
The girl with the ponytail finished her test, and she and the other girl took seats on the folding chairs. Derek had to admit, the model’s pasty face had been transformed.
Closing her phone, Cheyenne turned to him. “Tonya can’t come. Murray’s mom had a setback at the nursing home, and they’re on their way to Douglas right now.”
Derek frowned. “That’s not good.”
“Yeah, I hope she’s okay. But now I don’t have a model.”
The teacher turned toward her. “Cheyenne, are you ready? We have an empty chair.”
Standing, Cheyenne twisted her hands. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bartlett. My model won’t be able to make it, so I guess I can’t take the test.” Her shoulders drooped.
Derek glanced around. In the quiet room, the other girls had all stopped their work to stare at Cheyenne with their painted eyes. Had he and Cheyenne driven all this way for nothing?
He stood. “I’ll be your model.”
Cheyenne’s jaw dropped, and several of the students tittered.
He turned to the group. “Hey, I have a face, don’t I?” He rubbed his chin. “I even shaved this morning.”
His words caused more giggles, and the teacher smiled.
Cheyenne placed her hand on his arm. “You wouldn’t mind, Derek?”
He shrugged. “Why not? Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Thanks.” Her dimples creased as she smiled up at him.
He nodded, thinking once again how pretty she was, then took a seat in the chair. Cheyenne threw the cape around his shoulders and snapped it at the back of his neck.
She selected a small brown bottle from the counter under the mirror. “I have to test the foundation shade underneath your jawline first and blend it into your neck to see if it’s the right color.” Opening the bottle, she dumped some tan liquid on a wedge-shaped sponge.
Derek lifted his chin as she dabbed his neck.
“This color is perfect.” Cheyenne dabbed some more on the sponge. “Now I’ll apply it evenly to your face. I have to blend it carefully so there’s no smudge line.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s the hard part.”
He tried to relax, closing his eyes as she swabbed his face with even strokes. He was only doing this for her. But one thought kept running through his mind.
I’m going to look like a girl.
Cheyenne stepped back. “That’s the last step, and your makeup is complete.” She smiled at Derek, who now looked more beautiful than handsome with his outlined, dark-lashed eyes and pink cheeks.
A smattering of applause echoed through the room from the other girls. They had finished their tests, and for the past five minutes they surrounded Cheyenne. It was a little nerve-racking, but Cheyenne had a feeling they wanted to see what this hot guy looked like in makeup.
Derek glanced back at the mirror and then pinned Cheyenne with his gaze. “Now we need a demonstration of how to take makeup off.”
Everyone laughed, and Mrs. Bartlett nodded. “That’s a good idea, Cheyenne. I’ll give you a bonus point for showing us how to remove it.”
“Okay.” She smiled as she picked up the bottle of oil-free makeup remover from the counter. “First I’ll remove your eye makeup.”
“Amen to that,” Derek muttered as he closed his eyes.
Cheyenne applied the remover carefully, not wanting to get any in his eyes. She’d be forever grateful to Derek for volunteering to be her model. But the bonus for her was being able to touch every millimeter of his face—smoothing foundation over his skin, outlining his dark eyes, gazing at his handsome features.
She was going to keep working and praying to win his hand—by the end of this year.
“I appreciate the ride.” Cheyenne touched the passenger door handle of Derek’s truck as it idled in her driveway. She wished she could sit here and talk with him awhile, but it was getting late, and he always got up early to care for the animals at the ranch. “Thanks for being my model tonight. You really went the second mile—literally on the road as well as for my makeup test.” She laughed at her own joke.
He grinned. “Glad to do it. We make a good team.”
“Yes, we do.” Smiling, she pulled the handle. The door popped open, and the truck’s inside light came on.
“Hey, if you need a ride to the bowling activity on Tuesday night, let me know.”
“Okay, thanks.” She looked back at him then frowned. “You still have a spot of mascara under your eye.”
“I do?” He studied his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, so I do.”
Cheyenne rummaged in her purse. “Let me clean that off.” She pulled out a tissue.
Derek threw his arm across the back of the bench seat and leaned toward her.
She dabbed the tissue under his eye, feeling his gaze on her. Their faces were so close—a little tingle went up her spine at his nearness. She wiped the tissue under his lashes one last time, wishing she could stay a few more minutes, but her job was done. “There, that’s better.” She looked into his eyes.
His gaze held hers. “Much better.” His eyes dipped down to her lips.
Cheyenne caught a quick breath. He was going to kiss her!
But Derek suddenly cleared his throat and sat back. “Thanks.” Placing a fist against his mouth, he coughed. “Uh, guess I’ll see you Sunday at church.”
“Yeah.” She fumbled to push the door open. “See you later.” Jumping out of the pickup, she closed the door.
He backed out of the driveway then took off down the road. An aura of sadness enveloped her like a shroud. He almost kissed me! But something stopped him.
What was it?
Whew! That was close.
Derek hit the steering wheel with his fist as he drove out of town. If Cheyenne hadn’t given that little gasp, he would have pulled her in his arms and kissed her. Whatever had possessed him? He knew God’s will. Single for the Lord.
He huffed out a breath. He would not mess up again.
But he had already offered Cheyenne a ride on Tuesday night to the bowling alley, so he’d have to give her a lift if her car was still in the shop.
He thought back to those few moments in the truck as she wiped the tissue under his eye. She was so close he could actually feel her softness. And some type of awareness crackled between them. But why had he suddenly turned into a love-struck teenager?
Craz
y.
With a shake of his head, he stepped on the gas and roared down the road. He had to make sure that didn’t happen again.
Chapter 5
On Tuesday afternoon, the bell over the door to the Fort Lob Post Office signaled a customer.
Cheyenne put down the mail she was sorting and walked out from the back room to stand behind the counter. “May I help you?”
A tall, thin cowboy removed his black hat, revealing a thatch of brown hair. His tanned face had a weathered look. “Hello there, ma’am. I’d like to secure a post office box.”
“Okay.” Cheyenne pulled a form from under the counter. “Just fill this out.” With a smile, she handed it to him.
He pulled a pen from his inside jacket pocket and leaned over the counter to fill in the boxes.
She waited a few minutes, watching his large, tanned hands. Those hands were definitely used to work. “You must be new in town.”
“Yep.” He had a deep voice. “Just bought the ranch that was for sale on Antelope Road.”
“Oh—the old Dudley place.” Cheyenne’s memory conjured up images of the elderly couple who had died. Their children had been trying to sell the ranch for years. “That ranch is next to the Rocking B, owned by Jake Brandt. Have you met the Brandts yet?”
“Nope.” Leaning over the counter, he glanced up at her with his brown eyes. “I haven’t met a single soul in Fort Lob. Even the Realtor was from out of town.”
Cheyenne grinned. “Well, you’ve met me.” She held out her right hand. “I’m Cheyenne Wilkins. Welcome to Fort Lob.”
He straightened and shook her hand. “Glad to meet you, Mrs. Wilkins.”
“It’s Miss, but please call me Cheyenne. Everyone does.”
A slow smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Cheyenne. A pretty name for a pretty lady.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Thank you.” She looked down, rather embarrassed to be called a “pretty lady.” But she couldn’t help noticing how his smile transformed his features. He looked around forty years old and his skin looked like tanned leather, but that smile made him handsome.
He pushed the form toward her. “Rex Pierson. Moving from Montana, and I’m gonna pepper my new ranch with beef cattle and buffalo.”
Cheyenne glanced up. “So you’re raising them for meat?”
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, Cheyenne.” Rex grinned.
She smiled back then looked down at the form. “Would you rather pay for your post office box for six months or for a year?”
They transacted business, and Cheyenne showed Rex where his box was located along the wall. When they were finished, he thanked her and turned toward the door. She walked back to the counter.
“By the way …” Rex stopped. “Is there a good restaurant in town where I could have supper?”
“We have two good restaurants.” She joined him at the glass door and pointed outside. “The Cattlemen’s Diner is located across the street. That would be my first choice for supper.” She pointed to the left down the road. “Then there’s the Trailblazer Café. That’s a good choice for breakfast or lunch.”
With a nod, he squinted as he looked out the door. “Another thing I’m looking for is a good church.” His brown eyes turned to her. “Any around here? I’m looking for one that has a Bible study or prayer service on Wednesday night.”
Cheyenne’s lips parted. “You must be a Christian!”
“Yep.” His smile deepened the wrinkle lines on his face. “Blood-washed, bought, and on my way to heaven.”
Wow. “That’s great! My church has a prayer service on Wednesday, and services on Sunday, too.”
“Where’s it located?”
She gave him directions, pointing out the door.
“Thank you, Cheyenne. You’ve been most helpful.” He donned his cowboy hat.
She watched him amble across the street and enter the diner. Her heart warmed at the thought of meeting another Christian, one who wasn’t afraid to share his testimony. Then she thought of what he had called her. Pretty lady. With a smile, she shook her head. Her thoughts wandered to Grandmother’s will and Derek Brandt. Did he think she was a pretty lady?
All weekend she had ruminated on that intimate moment with him in his truck.
The near kiss that turned into a near miss.
She didn’t tell anyone what happened, not even Callie. Now if Derek had actually kissed her, Callie would have been the first person to find out.
What went wrong?
A definite chemistry had hung between them in that moment, and he must have felt it, too. Why had he suddenly gotten cold feet?
She would probably never know.
That evening Cheyenne leaned over to tie her bowling shoes, then cuffed the bottom edges of her jeans and flattened them out. The noise of conversation and laughter, along with the clatter of bowling pins, surrounded her. Only seven members of the Single Servings showed up for the bowling activity, and they claimed two lanes. Cheyenne was on a lane with Matthew Werth and Derek.
Sitting up, she glanced around the bowling alley. In the next lane, Corey Henning already stood behind the line and released his ball down the lane with a tight spin. The pins crashed in a strike. With a whoop, Corey turned toward the three people sitting behind him—Laurie Smullens, whom he was dating, Reed Dickens, and Horace Frankenberg.
Derek sat to Cheyenne’s left in a plastic chair, tying his shoes. He stood. “Now to find a good ball. It’s times like this when I wish I owned one.” He grinned at Matthew who stood by the ball return.
“Yep.” Matthew pulled a red bowling ball from his bag. He held up his gloved hand. “I’m trying this Super-Flex 3000 wrist support glove. I’m hoping it will add a few points to my game.” He bent over the hand dryer.
Cheyenne rolled her eyes as she stood. “I’ll go with you, Derek.” Since her car was still at Tom’s shop, Derek had driven her to the bowling alley and acted as if nothing had happened between them on Friday. But she wanted something to happen. Tonight.
I’ll stick to him like gum on his shoe!
The conditions of Grandmother’s will lingered. She needed to make every day count.
Behind him, she ascended the three steps from their lane. “I didn’t even know they made bowling gloves.”
Derek turned. “Of course they do. That’s why the two middle fingers are missing.” He walked beside her to the ball rack. “What kind of ball do you want?”
“I need a light ball, but I can never find one that fits.”
He hefted a blue ball then put it down. “Are you a good bowler, Cheyenne?”
“No!” She laughed. “My highest score of all time is 83. I’ll be lucky if I can stay out of the gutter.”
He grinned. “Just so your life doesn’t end up in the gutter.”
“Oh thanks a lot.” She smiled, loving it when he teased her.
Derek hefted a yellow ball then handed it to her. “Try this one—it’s light.”
Cheyenne glanced at the tiny finger holes and shook her head. “My fingers will get stuck.” She sighed as she set the ball down. “That’s my problem. The bigger the finger holes, the heavier the ball. I suppose the reasoning is that a bowler with big fingers must be strong.” And how am I supposed to lose weight in my fingers?
Derek twisted a purple ball on the rack so the holes were on top. “Here. Try this one.”
As she took it, the door to the bowling alley opened. Bruce MacKinnon and Aggie Collingsworth walked in.
It must be true that opposites attract. Cheyenne hid a smile as the pair walked toward them. Bruce, a dignified Scotsman whose speech still held a slight brogue, was dating Aggie, an overweight down-home gal from Texas, complete with southern accent.
A short young woman walked beside Bruce. A pair of jeans clung to her thin hips, and long red hair flowed over the shoulders of her jade T-shirt. With bright eyes and a pretty smile, she was cute.
And tiny.
That girl would never
get her fingers stuck in a bowling ball.
Aggie nodded at Derek and Cheyenne. “Howdy, y’all. Having fun at this bowling shindig?”
Cheyenne smiled. “Hi! Are you guys joining us tonight?” Aggie was in their Sunday school class, but Bruce taught an adult class, and the girl looked like she might be in high school.
Bruce motioned to the women beside him. “Agatha wants to go shopping in Lusk, but my granddaughter, Kandi, would like to join you in the activity.” He looked at Derek. “Is that all right?”
Derek shrugged. “Sure. The more the merrier.” He extended his hand toward the girl. “Derek Brandt. Glad to meet you.”
She shook his hand. “I’m Kandi MacKinnon.”
Since Cheyenne held a bowling ball, she just nodded at the girl. “I’m Cheyenne. Welcome to the party.”
Kandi had obviously mastered beauty secrets. The makeup on her smooth face was perfect, with the green eye shadow bringing out the green in her eyes. Her eyelashes were thick.
Bruce smiled at his granddaughter. “Kandi attends a Christian college in California, but she’s staying with me this summer. She’ll be in your Sunday school class, Derek.”
“That’s great.” Smiling, he took a step toward her. “What year in college?”
She looked up at him, returning his smile. “I’ll be a sophomore in the fall.”
Derek thumbed back at their lane. “You can bowl with me. There’s only three on our lane.”
“Thanks.”
Cheyenne cocked an eyebrow. Derek seemed entirely too interested in Kandi MacKinnon. The girl couldn’t be more than five foot three—a whole foot shorter than Derek—but she gazed up at him with a dazzling smile as they walked back to the lane. Bruce and Aggie departed, which left Cheyenne standing alone by the ball rack.
Derek was just being friendly. Yeah, that was it. After all, he was the teacher of the Single Servings. He had to be friendly.
As long as he’s not too friendly.
Derek relaxed in the plastic chair as he watched Kandi release her ball into the lane. She was so pretty! And he couldn’t believe how athletic she was, with perfect bowling form. Already, on the seventh frame, her score was 149. Derek only had 116, and Cheyenne trailed behind with a mere 52 points. Of course Matthew, the pro, had a leading score of 218.
Tumbleweed Weddings Page 34
