Tumbleweed Weddings (48 page)

She walked down the hallway, knowing exactly where Derek’s room was. He used to share it with his older brother until Ryan got married and moved to Denver. Both single beds were neatly made with navy comforters. A brown leather Bible sat on the nightstand. She picked it up, then took a moment to breathe in his scent. This was Derek’s domain—a masculine room with a braided gray rug on the polished wood floor and an oak dresser between the windows. She glanced outside, catching a glimpse of the backyard that ended at the white barn. Beyond that was nothing but open fields. In the distance, a flock of sheep dotted the hillside.

Walking downstairs, she mentally compared all the acreage the Brandt family owned with the small parcel of land her dad had in town. Hundreds of houses like theirs could fit on the Brandts’ property. But if she inherited Grandmother’s money, she would share it with Dad. He had always wanted to have a bigger house on a couple acres of land.

She pulled a dining room chair near the sofa, sat down, and opened the Bible. “What do you want me to read?”

Derek’s eyes opened to slits. “Psalm 23. ‘The Lord is my shepherd.’ Isn’t that what you read when someone is dying?”

Cheyenne raised her eyebrows. “You’re not that bad, are you?”

He rewarded her with a lazy grin. “Just kidding.”

With a smile, she shook her head. Leave it to Derek to tease her, even when he was sick. “So do you want me to read the twenty-third Psalm, or do you have something else in mind?”

“Read John
chapter 10
.”

Cheyenne turned the thin pages to the New Testament. “This is a shepherd passage, too.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a shepherd.” He cracked another smile.

Cheyenne’s heart swelled. She loved being with Derek, talking to him, getting teased by him. “You must be feeling better.”

He nodded. “I feel a lot better than I did this morning.”

“Good.” Looking down, she began reading. When she finished, she and Derek discussed the chapter for a few minutes.

He motioned toward the Bible. “Read verse 10 again.”

She found the place. “ ‘The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.’ ”

He gave her a weak smile. “Love that verse—my favorite in the whole book.” He stared at the ceiling. “The abundant life. That’s a great concept—what Jesus wants to give Christians in this life, but so many want to go their own way.”

“That’s true.” Cheyenne chewed on her lower lip.
He’s so godly, Lord!

“The Bible says if we abide in Christ and keep God’s commandments, He’ll bless us. He’ll give us exceeding abundantly above all we can ask or think.” He grinned. “That was your Sunday-morning sermon, Miss Wilkins, and I’m sure it blessed your heart beyond measure.”

She laughed. “It certainly did.”

“Kind of basic, actually.” Derek sat up and sniffed. “What’s that wonderful smell?”

“I made you some soup. It’s simmering on the stove right now.” She raised her eyebrows. “Are you ready to eat? It might make you feel better.”

Derek’s stomach felt empty. “That would be great, Cheyenne.” Throwing the blanket aside, he stood and wobbled a moment. He rubbed his chin, hoping she wouldn’t notice how weak he was. “I should make a pit stop in the bathroom first. I probably look like three-day pond scum.”

She laughed. “No you don’t. You look … good.”

“Only good?” He grinned at her.

“Well … I was going to say ‘handsome,’ but you always look handsome.”

He folded his arms. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Maybe.” Giving him a wink, she turned toward the kitchen.

Derek watched her go. For the first time, he noticed that she was dressed for church, and her black skirt swished as she walked away. He’d always liked hanging around with Cheyenne, and he loved to tease her, but he had to be careful. There was a fine line between teasing and flirting, and she seemed to want to cross it. He couldn’t do that. He had to remain single—single for the Lord’s work. Wasn’t that God’s will for him?

When he emerged from the bathroom, the smell of the soup drew him into the kitchen. He took a seat at the table.

Cheyenne turned from the stove. “How do you feel—now that you’re up?” “Hungry.” He smiled at her. “What’s for lunch?”

“Chicken noodle soup.” Picking up a large spoon, she stirred it around in a pan. “I found some carrots and celery in the fridge, a package of egg noodles, and some chicken in the freezer.” She turned to him. “I hope your mom doesn’t mind if I used the chicken. She might have been saving it for something.”

“She won’t care.” Cheyenne was making homemade soup? For him? He would have just opened a can and heated it up. As Derek watched her ladle the soup into two bowls, it struck him that Cheyenne had a servant’s heart. “Hey, um, thanks for coming over and taking care of me. I really appreciate it.”

“It was your dad’s idea, but I didn’t mind helping out.” Setting the bowls and two spoons on the table, she took a seat across from him. “I didn’t have anything to do at church this morning besides warm the pew. Sometimes I work in the nursery, but I wasn’t on the schedule today.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You ended up taking care of a big baby anyway.”

She laughed, a musical sound he enjoyed hearing. “Oh Derek, you’re not hard to care for at all.” Folding her hands, she raised her eyebrows at him. “Would you ask the blessing?”

“Sure.” He bowed his head. “Father in heaven, thank You for providing all our needs, especially for healing me. Thank You for this good soup Cheyenne made. Bless her for coming over to help me. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

Cheyenne tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear as she took a napkin from the holder on the table. Derek watched her. He had always liked that little trait she had—tucking her hair behind her ear. He lifted a spoonful of soup to his lips. The warm liquid felt good as he swallowed. “Hmm, this is great.”

“Glad you like it.” She took a sip.

“I hate missing church.” Derek stirred his soup then lifted the spoon for another bite. “It doesn’t seem like Sunday morning if I’m not teaching Sunday school.”

“I’m sure your dad’s doing a fine job.” Cheyenne glanced at her watch. “Of course Sunday school’s been over for an hour or so.”

“True.” Derek swallowed another spoonful before he spoke. “I hope Dad didn’t forget to announce our bowling activity in two weeks, although he must not have had many students. Tonya and Murray are out of the picture now.”

Cheyenne smiled, creasing her dimples. “And you and I weren’t there either.”

He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Makes me wonder what people thought. They might start a rumor that we ran away together.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Derek frowned.
Why did I say that?
He didn’t want to give her any ideas.

But it was too late.

Cheyenne laughed. “Yeah! Let’s run away! We’ll give the ladies in this town some fuel for their gossip.”

Derek didn’t share her smile. “I was just kidding.” He took another bite.

“I’m sorry.” Cheyenne’s smile lingered as she stirred her soup. “I guess we shouldn’t give people things to gossip about. That’s just wrong.”

Despite his concern about her flirting, Derek grinned. Some girls were hard to talk to, but not Cheyenne.

Being with her was like putting on a pair of comfortable old shoes.

A
lmost two weeks later, Cheyenne drove up Highway 270 on her way back from Lusk. She had just finished her Thursday class, and tomorrow evening would be the last one. For the past week and a half, she had attended a class on the art of applying makeup, something she had always wanted to learn. Tomorrow evening was her test—applying makeup to another person’s face.

The engine of her Dodge gave a sudden cough, and the front end rattled and shook violently.

“Oh no!” Cheyenne let up on the gas. With a wheeze, the engine died. Her shoulders slumped as she pulled over, letting the car roll to the side of the road. Getting out, she lifted the hood. Steam poured from the engine, and she jumped back.

“Oh great!” She really should invest in a new car, but her Dart was a familiar old friend. Emphasis on old.

Leaning against the side of the car, she folded her arms. The sun had already set over the Laramie Mountains, and her cell phone was useless out here in the boonies. The highway stretched out on either side of her, deserted, not a vehicle in sight.

Maybe Murray Twichell would drive by in his patrol car. This road was part of his section for the Wyoming Highway Patrol, and he and Tonya were back from their honeymoon in Hawaii. In fact Cheyenne had asked Tonya to come to her class tomorrow night for the makeup demonstration. The new bride had agreed to be her model, and Cheyenne couldn’t have asked for a prettier face.

She glanced up and down the road again. Nothing. She looked up to the darkening sky. “Lord, help!”

Maybe she should try to start the car. The steam was gone, so perhaps the engine would start up. She got in and turned the key.

The engine started then sputtered and died.

Cheyenne dropped her head on the steering wheel. Would she be here all night?
Lord, please send someone!

A few minutes later, she heard the hum of a vehicle approaching.
Praise God!
She jumped out of the car and waved her arms at the two headlights, hoping it wasn’t a serial killer.

A red pickup truck slowed down, pulled behind her car, and stopped.

The headlights glared in her eyes as she ran back to the truck. Myriads of people in Wyoming drove pickup trucks. Hopefully this person lived in Fort Lob, someone she knew.

The driver’s door opened, and Derek Brandt stepped down from the cab. Wearing a Western shirt, jeans, and a white cowboy hat, he looked like an authentic cowboy. “Hi, Cheyenne. Need help?”

Relief poured through her, and she hadn’t realized until that moment how tense she was. “Oh Derek, am I glad to see you!” She laughed. If she had to be stranded, at least she was rescued by the most handsome man in the West. “My car died. Could you give me a lift into town?”

“Sure.” He pulled a flashlight from under his front seat, then walked around to the front of her car. “What’s wrong with it?” He leaned over to peer down, shining the light on different parts of the engine.

“A lot of steam poured out when I opened the hood.” Standing beside him, a quiet peace filled her.
Thank You, Lord, for sending Derek!

“Must be the radiator.” He straightened and snapped off the light. “Guess you’ll need to be towed.”

“Could you tow my car, Derek?”

He tapped the flashlight in his palm. “I would, but I lent my chains to Miguel, one of our hired hands. Call Tom Shoemacher when you get home. He’ll tow it to his garage.” Derek walked back to his truck and motioned for her to follow. “Hop in.”

Cheyenne grabbed her purse and notebook from her car, then got in on the passenger side of his pickup. “Thanks for the lift.” She closed the door.

“Not a problem. Why were you way out here tonight?”

She settled on the seat as he pulled around her car and headed down the road. “I’m taking a class in Lusk.”

Derek frowned. “What for?”

“Well …” How could she tell Derek she was trying to learn beauty tips to go along with her weight-loss program? “I’m learning the art of applying makeup.” Stopping, she pressed her lips together.
I’m doing this for you, mister!

His eyes roved her face before his gaze caught hers. For a brief moment, a sudden chemistry arced between them.

Clearing his throat, Derek looked back at the road. “Your makeup looks good enough to me.”

“See? I’m doing it right.”

He chuckled.

She sank back against the seat.
What did that look mean?
A touch of nerves hit her stomach. Here they were, alone in Derek’s truck, but he didn’t seem to want to deepen their friendship. A tiny sigh escaped her lips. “Tomorrow evening is my makeup test, and Tonya agreed to be my model, although she said she might be late.”

“How are you gonna get there? I doubt if Tom will have your car fixed by tomorrow night.”

“Oh.” Cheyenne bit her lower lip. She hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe I can borrow my dad’s car if he doesn’t mind being stranded at the store all evening.”

“Hey, no worries. I’ll drive you to Lusk.”

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!