Learning (9 page)

“Good.” He eased his face alongside hers and stayed that way for a few seconds, their cheeks touching, clearly fighting the temptation they both had to be feeling. When he drew back, his eyes held a resolve she hadn’t seen there before. “I’m going to convince you, Bailey. One of these days … I will.”

“Convince me?” She knew what he meant, but she wanted to drag out the moment.

“That I love you … that I’ve fallen for you and nothing … nothing will make me give up.”

“Not distance?” She giggled, swaying gently with him.

“Not distance.”

“Not time?”

“No.” He laughed quietly. “Not time.” “Or anything else?”

“No. Especially not something so small as our jobs.” He brought his face close to hers again and slowly, like breath against her skin, he kissed her cheek. “Are you ready, Bailey? Are you ready to try?”

As quickly as he had made her laugh a minute ago, panic welled within her. She blinked twice, searching his eyes, willing the right words to come. She didn’t want to make him wait. But she had to be honest — he deserved that most of all. “More ready … than I was yesterday.”

He thought about that for a long moment, and a smile gradually lifted the corners of his mouth. “Okay … I can live with that.” He stepped back then. “Come on, pretty girl. I need to get you home.”

They made their way back to Joey and down the elevator. Along the way Joey made small talk, telling them trivial facts about the building and the famous people who had made it up to the 103
^rd
floor. “But you … you might be the most famous in a long time.” He nodded at Brandon, and then looked at her. “You too, miss.” His cheeks reddened. “I saw your movie. It was fantastic.”

Bailey thanked him, and Brandon slipped the guy a hundreddollar bill. “You were great, Joey. I’ll ask for you next time.”

“Sounds great.” He raised an eyebrow, his accent thick. “I’m here to serve.”

“Next time?” Bailey still felt like she was in a dream.

“Absolutely.” Brandon looked at her, to the questioning places of her heart. “We’ll be back.”

He fixed his baseball cap and slipped his hood up one more time. Bailey wasn’t sure what to expect when they reached the street level. With Brandon they could step out of an elevator and find a throng of people waiting. But whatever he’d done to prepare for this night, he’d done it well. There were only a few tourists milling about in the lobby, and a handful more waiting for the public elevator. Brandon was good at avoiding eye contact, expert at blending in. No one gave them a second look as they exited the express elevator and walked outside to where the carriage was waiting.

When they were seated, Brandon covered their laps with a blanket from the back shelf. She leaned her head on his shoulder and he took her fingers in his. “Aren’t I supposed to lose a slipper or something?” She smiled up at him.

“No … this isn’t that story.” Brandon didn’t break eye contact, wouldn’t look away. His smile made her feel like the most cherished girl ever, his voice soft against her skin. “Remember, Bailey? Cinderella lost her slipper because the prince let her go.” He ran his free hand alongside her face, and again his touch was as gentle as the night breeze. “I won’t do that. Not ever.”

Dizziness swept over her one more time, and she rested her head on his shoulder for the rest of the ride. If she wasn’t careful, she’d tell him yes, she was ready for a relationship, ready for a commitment. Because right now she would’ve said just about anything to keep him from leaving.
Be smart,
she told herself.

Jesus, please … help me know what to do … whether this is right or not.

Bailey waited, but there was no answer. Just the peacefulness of being here in the carriage beside him.

When they reached the Kellers’ apartment, Brandon paid the
driver and jogged to a waiting black Suburban. He said something to that driver as well and then hurried back to her side. The situation was just dawning on her. “You had a driver waiting here? Which means that …”

“I have a plane to catch.” He smiled. “Well, actually it can leave whenever I want.”

She laughed at his reality. Of course he’d flown on a private jet. He would create too much madness if he flew commercially. “So you really came just for this? My opening night and …”

“And the best few hours of my life.” He wasn’t teasing. “Hey … think about coming out to LA … when you have a break. Okay?”

“I will.” She felt all lit up inside, like it might be days before the glow from this night would wear off. If it ever did. She thanked him again and they hugged once more. Not the long hugs they’d shared on the 103
^rd
floor, but a respectful hug that told her he wouldn’t put her reputation on the line, not now or ever. He stepped back and gave her a lighthearted wink. “Think about my question.”

He didn’t need to clarify which question. She waved goodbye and, after a lingering look, she turned and walked into the building. Long after she’d gone up to the eleventh floor and crept quietly into the darkened apartment, Bailey let the question play in her mind. She took it to God and remembered again and again how he had asked her. Was she ready? Was she ready for the friendship they shared to be something more? Bailey wasn’t sure if she had an answer now, but she knew one thing for sure.

After tonight, she was close.

S
CHOOL WAS OUT — BOTH AT INDIANA UNIVERSITY AND AT LYLE
High, which meant Cody had a great deal more time on his hands. The break was perfect, because Cheyenne was out of rehab, living with Tara. Though Cody still had daily practice with the football team, this first week of June he had become Cheyenne’s full-time helper.

He jogged up the steps of Tara’s house. She was so sweet, Cheyenne. So happy with whatever help she received from him. Not once had he heard her complain or show her frustration over her predicament. And because of her good attitude, she was relearning much of her lost physical skills at a record pace. Cody couldn’t have been more proud of her. He knocked once. “Cheyenne, … it’s me.”

“Come in.” Her voice held a smile, the way it always did.

Cody carried a bag of groceries and other items, and as he let himself in he took it to the coffee table in the middle of the front room. He had another surprise for her today, one he could hardly wait to tell her. He smiled over his shoulder as he set the bag down. “I brought you a few things. Ice cream … licorice … all the healthy snacks.” She’d lost weight since the accident. Her doctor wanted her to increase her calories until she regained her strength. He hurried the ice cream to Tara’s freezer and returned, wiping his hands on his jeans. “It’s hot out there. The ice cream almost didn’t make it.”

Cheyenne watched him, her eyes soft. “Cody … you didn’t
have to do that.” She propped herself up on Tara’s sofa, a stack of books and magazines at her side. She could use her walker to get to the bathroom. But her doctor preferred she wait until someone was there to walk with her. Just in case. She swung her legs tentatively over the edge of the sofa. “I’m sorry … that you have to do this.” Her eyes were honest, marked by a gratitude that knew no limits. “There are better ways you could spend your summer. I know that.”

“Chey … we’ve been over this.” He offered her his arm. The truth was, she had helped him as much as he had helped her. His flashbacks of the war in Iraq didn’t come nearly as often now. His counselor thought she knew the reason. He had purpose again … and that purpose lived in the person of Cheyenne Williams. “Let’s walk to the bathroom.”

They’d moved past the point of embarrassment or awkwardness. He’d been there for her during rehab when the strain of simply getting out of the hospital bed had been enough to make her throw up on the linoleum floor. With all he’d seen her go through, they had become very close. He helped her to her feet, then positioned her walker in front of her. She needed to do most of the work herself — it was part of the process. “Okay … you ready?”

“Yes.” Cheyenne’s mom was white, her father black, a combination that made her beautiful skin look constantly tanned. Combined with her shoulder-length straight dark hair, Cheyenne was beautiful in a way that hadn’t been marred by the accident. Even here, struggling to walk down the hallway, she was stunning. She stopped and worked to catch her breath.

“Here … lean on me for a minute.” Cody eased her arm around his shoulders. “You don’t want to overdo it.”

“I’m not.” She breathed in sharp and tightened her grip on the walker. Her smile was marked by the effort, but she nodded despite the difficulty. “I’m okay. Let’s go.”

“A few seconds.” He was adamant. She tended to push herself too hard, and this was one of those times.

For a long beat she hesitated, looking at him, clearly appreciating his kindness. But the mood shifted, and her expression told him she could feel the change too. “I … I couldn’t do this without you.” Her voice was tender, like everything about her.

Cody was caught in the moment, aware of the change between them. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt his feelings shift. He had started out as Cheyenne’s friend, but now … now he wondered whether God wasn’t making it still clearer that she was in his life for an even greater reason. He waited several seconds, allowing himself to get lost in her warmth — even for this brief moment. “I told you, Chey.” He touched her cheek, caring for her with everything he was. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They made it to the bathroom, and from that point she managed by herself. Once she was inside, she flipped on the fan and closed the door. He waited outside in the hall, and his mind turned to Art Collins. What must it have been like to be Art, to be away from this marvelous girl for such a long time and to know that when he came back, the two of them would get married? Cody leaned against the wall and pictured his friend, his buddy Art. Had he known when the bullet hit him? Did he realize in that instant that he’d never see Cheyenne again?

For the first time in a long time, the images flashed in his mind. Horrific images of bloody limbs and utter destruction … dust and gunfire flying through the air in a whirl of terrible noise and death. Always death. He blinked hard and the images disappeared. If Art had known … would he want Cody to be here now? Standing in his place … helping Cheyenne through her injuries, through her season of healing? Maybe even falling for her?

He let the thought stand in the doorway of his soul for a long time, two minutes maybe. The answer was yes, right? Like Tara said, God had spared Cody and since things hadn’t worked out
with Bailey … this must be the reason. So he could be here for Cheyenne.

For a single instant, he looked down at the ring on his right index finger, the friendship ring from Bailey. Wherever she was, she’d moved on. He had seen her Facebook page, the pictures from her opening night. And there was another photo: one of her and a guy. He wasn’t tagged in the picture and the guy’s face wasn’t clear, but Cody knew who it was. He would’ve recognized Brandon Paul’s build, his profile anywhere.

Her profile still said she was single, but by the expression on her face she wouldn’t be for long. Cody pictured the two of them, the way they’d looked in the photo. Brandon had clearly made his way to New York to see her show, and somehow he’d kept the event from the paparazzi. Cody gritted his teeth and tried to put her out of his mind. He wanted to feel happy for her, glad she’d found what he couldn’t give her: a happy life, safe and whole.

But he wasn’t there yet.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Cheyenne turned off the fan, opened the door, and with painstaking attention to detail, she moved her walker back into the hall. They took minutes moving down the hall and through the kitchen, and once when she tripped he stopped her from falling. Frustration made her furrow her brow. “I’m sorry … I … I have to work harder.”

“It’s okay.” Cody made sure she was steady. “You’re doing great.”

Again she smiled at him, but only briefly. It took all her concentration to make it the rest of the way to the sofa. When she finally sat down, he expected her to look exhausted. But instead her eyes were bright, like the walk had breathed new life into her day, her disposition. “That was wonderful. Just moving again.”

Cody understood. He’d gone through a similar rehabilitation after his injuries in Iraq. It was one more reason why he empathized
with her. They shared a common bond of overcoming. “Okay … since you don’t look too tired, I have a surprise for you.”

“Really?” Her eyes danced, and again the bond between them felt like more than friendship. “You spoil me, Cody.”

“Someone should.” His voice was softer than before, and he couldn’t have meant the words more. Cheyenne had been abandoned by her mother when she was young. She met Art in high school, and by then she had already determined to live an entirely different life than the one she’d had as a child. Their first date was at a Sunday morning church service.

Cody sat on the opposite arm of the sofa and studied her, the beautiful survivor seated across from him. “The football team can’t wait to see you.” He gave her a more serious smile. “They’ve been praying for you, Chey. They made you something and … well, I told them I’d see if you were up for a trip to Lyle this afternoon.”

Football practice was set for an hour later. Normally he would stop in and see her, help her however he could, and then head out to Lyle. After his team’s workout, he’d come back and hang out with her until Tara got home. Even then he usually stayed well into the evening. “So … you up for a drive?”

Cheyenne’s expression shifted from a childlike excitement to a teary-eyed look. “I feel … I guess I’m overwhelmed.” She dabbed at a single tear before it could make its way down her cheek. “They didn’t think I’d live … and the doctor worried about whether I’d ever walk. And now … something I used to love doing … I can finally go to your practice.” She didn’t come out and say it — the fact that she’d been on the way to see him coaching when she’d been broadsided by the truck. But the fact remained. In some ways this trip would be symbolic — finishing what she’d set out to do that afternoon. She sniffed softly. “Yes, Cody … yes, I’d love to.”

“Good.” He felt the sting of tears in his own eyes, aware of how important this trip was to her. “You think you’ll be okay?”

“Yes.” She uttered a sound that was more laugh than cry. “A million times yes.”

He helped her to the door, and then had her wait at the top step. “I’ve thought this through.” She wasn’t ready for stairs yet, so he took her walker and ran it lightly down the steps to the sidewalk. Then he came back and swept her into his arms. She held onto his neck, and he cradled her close to his middle, careful with every step as he made his way down to where her walker waited.

“You don’t weigh anything.” He set her down gently, making sure she had perfect control of the walker before he took his place beside her. “You’re going to get the biggest bowl of ice cream tonight. Just wait.”

They both laughed at the idea as they inched their way toward Cody’s pickup. “Tara will probably make me eat two bowls.”

“She loves you.” Cody admired the woman more every passing week. She worked hard all day, and then came home and played nurse to Cheyenne in ways Cody couldn’t. It was a beautiful thing that Tara maintained her relationship with Cheyenne despite the fact that Art was no longer in their lives.

The trip to Lyle was marked by easy conversation, and Cheyenne seemed happy and relaxed. Cody had wondered how she’d feel, taking this ride so soon after the accident that had nearly killed her. Halfway there she turned to him. “God has taken away my fear … isn’t that amazing?”

“About driving?”

“Yes, that.” She nodded, her face marked by a peace that could never have been from the world. “But about everything else too.” She smiled at him, a smile rich with the sort of depth that couldn’t be faked. “When Art went to war, I was terrified. Every day I worried that he might get hurt or captured … he might get killed.” Her storytelling was slower than before. Not because she had brain damage, but because she simply was still recovering. “Even after I heard the news that Art wasn’t coming home, I was still afraid.”
She leaned back against the seat, quiet for a moment. “I was afraid of the heartache … afraid I couldn’t survive his funeral service.” She turned slightly, wincing from the pain that was clearly still a part of her. “I was afraid of being alone.”

“That makes sense.” Cody tightened his grip on the steering wheel and kept his eyes on the road. “I’ve felt all those feelings.” He didn’t say that he’d felt them about Bailey. This wasn’t the time.

“Anyway.” She looked straight ahead again. “I’m not afraid of anything anymore. I have God Almighty … I have my salvation.” She smiled bigger than before. “I’ll get to see Art again, and we’ll have forever to hang around in heaven. And in the middle of my most difficult days, I have Tara.” She looked at him again. “And I have you.” She lifted her thin shoulder briefly. “What could I possibly be afraid of?”

Cody wanted to pull over and hug her. The way she viewed life, the trials she’d come through, her attitude was enough to give him new confidence in God … in his future. In the plans the Lord had for him. Maybe even the plans He had for the two of them.

He spent the last half hour telling her about his counseling, how his flashbacks had been less frequent and how he’d felt more at peace lately.

“God is doing something … in both our lives.” She wasn’t flirting with him. Just a matter-of-fact knowing. God was at work.

“The truth is …” Cody glanced at her, wanting her to know how much he cared. “He’s using you to change me, Chey. He is.”

“I know.” She reached over and put her hand on his shoulder, but only for a few seconds. Her endurance wouldn’t allow anything longer. “God told me that.”

Chey’s faith was as attractive as her beautiful heart. The way she believed was different than Bailey, because Cheyenne hadn’t known God all her life. Unlike Bailey, Cheyenne believed out of desperation, because she’d found God in the midst of a childhood marked by abandonment and tragedy. Because of that, her faith
held the sort of depth that could only come after a person had passed through the fire.

Cody felt stronger just being with her.

He made another two turns, and then he pointed to the distance. “There it is. The stadium.” He had purposefully taken a different path to the school, avoiding the intersection where she’d been hit. “The guys should be there.”

She adjusted herself, sitting up straighter than before. “Can … I sit in the car? Or did you have another plan?”

“No.” He chuckled. “You’ll definitely sit in the car. This is enough adventure for one day without trying to make it into the bleachers.”

“True.”

They pulled into the parking lot, and Cody drove to the back of the school where the field was. Sure enough, his guys were gathered in the end zone and, as they came closer, all of them turned and as a group they began to clap. Not just a polite applause, but by the time Cody pulled up in the spot closest to them, they were cheering full force. Shouting and hollering their joy over the fact that she was there. Alive and healing and
there.

Then, as Cody turned off his engine, the guys picked something up off a nearby bench and unfolded a paper banner that had to be at least twenty feet long. Written in black paint and decorated with dozens of colorful flowers was a sign that read: “Welcome back, Cheyenne! We love you!”