Briefly closing her eyes, Cheyenne drew a deep breath, trying to block out anything unpleasant, and went to the refrigerator. She’d made some beef stew before bed last night, to get a jump on the day.
Presley didn’t seem to have eaten any, which worried Cheyenne. Her sister was getting far too thin....
Reminding herself not to dwell on the negative, she spent the time waiting for her stew to heat looking through pictures on the iPhone the Harmons had given her for her birthday in May. She had snapshots of her friends—Riley, Gail, Simon, Callie, Ted, Noah, Baxter, Kyle, Sophia and several others who joined them, although less frequently, on Friday mornings at Black Gold Coffee. They were all going on the cruise, except Gail and Simon, of course, who were in Hollywood, Sophia, who had a daughter as well as a husband, and Riley, who was raising a son and planned to spend the holidays remodeling the B and B. Cheyenne was disappointed to be missing the big trip. The Caribbean sounded like a marvelous place to go. But taking a cruise wasn’t something she’d ever expected to be able to do, anyway.
With a faint smile for the fun Eve and the rest of her friends would have, she thumbed farther back in her album to find the picture she’d been looking for.
There it was—Joe, with his arm around his sister. Cheyenne had taken that photograph at a barbecue last summer. Sometimes he came to the events Gail attended when she was home, but Gail wasn’t home all that often. She’d been living in L.A. for more than a decade, ever since she started Big Hit Public Relations. And now that she was married to Simon, she’d likely return even less.
The stew bubbled on the stove, but Cheyenne didn’t remove it. She was too taken with Joe’s image, although she’d seen this picture a million times. He looked good in his swim trunks, his broad chest and muscular arms bronzed from the sun, his wet hair tossed back off his face. Her heart beat faster as she stared at the contours of his strong jaw, the laugh lines bracketing his mouth and the intelligence shining through his blue eyes. In the past year or so, his hair had begun to recede a little at the temples, but Cheyenne didn’t mind. She’d never seen anyone she thought was more handsome.
“Presley?”
Her mother was awake and calling for her sister. Cheyenne set her phone aside and turned off the burner. “Presley’s gone to work,” she called back. “I’m in the middle of making dinner. I’ll bring you a bowl of stew in a minute.”
“I’m not hungry.”
She was never hungry anymore. But she had to eat or she’d lose what little strength she still had. “You should try to get a few bites down.”
“Did Presley say anything to you when she left?” Anita wanted to know.
Because it was difficult for her mother to make herself heard, Cheyenne hurried to her bedroom to answer. “About what?”
Anita studied her before relaxing. “Nothing.”
Cheyenne considered asking why Presley had left early but guessed, from her mother’s questions, that she wouldn’t know. What did it matter? Nothing had happened. “So…will you try to eat?”
“If you want,” she relented, a shrug in her voice.
“Good. I’ll be right back.”
Her cell phone, which she’d put on the counter, rang while she was on her way to the kitchen. Glancing at the display, she could see it was Eve and wasn’t surprised. She’d left The Gold Nugget only an hour ago, but Eve called her more than anyone else.
“You’d better not have canceled your cruise,” Cheyenne said as soon as she picked up.
“No, although I should,” Eve responded with a note of chagrin.
“There’s no point. You can’t stop what’s going to happen.”
“But I could help you through it.”
“You’ve already done everything you can. What’s up?”
Eve’s voice filled with breathless excitement. “I did it.”
Cheyenne had opened the cupboard and was reaching for two bowls, but she dropped her hand. What was Eve talking about? “Did what?”
“I asked him out!”
Cheyenne froze. “You mean Joe?”
“Who else, silly? I just…worked up the nerve, called him at the station and said, ‘I’d really like to get to know you better. Is there any chance you’d be interested in having dinner with me tomorrow?’”
Gripping the edge of the counter, Chey managed a strangled “And what did he say?”
“Yes!” It sounded as if she was jumping up and down. “He was so nice about it. He didn’t make me feel uncomfortable at all.”
Of course not. Joe was good at making other people feel accepted, regardless of the situation. He’d looked after Cheyenne as a sort of unofficial big brother ever since she’d moved to town, hadn’t he? Not once had he treated her as if she was insignificant, like so many of the other popular guys had at first. Although Cheyenne was eventually accepted by the “in” crowd, she felt that Eve had so much more to offer. She came from a highly regarded family. She was beautiful in the classic sense with a slender figure, dramatic widow’s peak and shiny dark hair. And she was such a nice person. Chey couldn’t imagine anyone not loving Eve.
“That—” Chey had to clear her throat “—that’s so exciting. Where will you take him?”
“I think we’ll drive to Jackson and have dinner at the Old Milano Hotel.”
“The one famous for its prime rib?”
“That’s it.”
Slumping onto the counter, Cheyenne rested her forehead in her hands. “That’ll be romantic.”
“Are you bringing me that soup today or tomorrow?” her mother interrupted, calling from her room.
Cheyenne covered the phone. “Give me a minute!”
“I might not have a minute!”
“Is that Anita?” Eve asked.
After making a sound of exasperation, Cheyenne laughed. “Yeah. Pleasant as always.”
“I don’t know how you do it. I’ll let you go, but…what do you think I should wear?”
Cheyenne knew Eve’s wardrobe as well as her own. They were the same size and often shared clothes. Until Cheyenne became an adult and had her own money, she was the only one who’d benefited from the arrangement. But that was slowly changing. Now it was Chey’s turn to give back. Eve had plenty of cute things, but she loved the new dress Cheyenne had found in San Francisco during her last visit. “I’ve got that pretty Caren Templet I got on sale, if you want to wear it. It would go perfectly with your leopard-print shoes and the black jacket with the fake fur.”
“You’d let me borrow that?” Eve said. “You haven’t even worn it yourself. The tags are still on the sleeve!”
“I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”
“Exactly.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Her mother was making a fuss. She had to get going. “This is a special occasion.” She fought the lump rising in her throat. “Wear it. You’ll be stunning.”
“That is so sweet. Thank you, Chey. You are the best friend anyone could ever have.”
In reality, it was the other way around. If not for Eve, Cheyenne would’ve run away while in high school—or started using, like Presley. The Harmons had tried to befriend Presley, too, but she was already set on her course, had chosen other friends who weren’t a very positive influence on her. Cheyenne owed Eve and her family everything. And it wasn’t as if Joe had been hers to begin with. “I’ll bring it to the inn tomorrow.”
“Do you think he’ll like it?” Eve asked with a fresh burst of enthusiasm.
A tear rolled down Cheyenne’s cheek. Angry that she could feel sorry for herself when Eve had such an opportunity, she set her jaw, wiped away the dampness and blinked faster to staunch the flow of more tears. “He won’t be able to resist you,” she said, and believed it with all her heart.