"She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Mascara
puddled at the corners of her eyes and beneath her lower
lashes. She jerked a tissue from a half-smashed box and
dabbed at the black stains. No way was she going to let
anybody know she’d cried, but the makeup was not
cooperating.
Tossing the tissue aside, Kelsey padded across the hall
to the bathroom and scrubbed her face clean. She held the
bottle of foundation in her hand and regarded her
reflection again. She’d never let Drew see her without
the benefit of even skin tones and lightly dusted cheeks
and eyes. It was a time-consuming ritual. What about now,
what about here?
Who cared if she didn’t wear makeup?
She cared.
The last thing she wanted was to look as though she
belonged to this place, and she’d bet her forty-dollar
bottle of foundation that the local girls didn’t know the
first thing about creating the natural look.
She brushed foundation across her skin, covering the
imperfections. By the time she’d constructed the perfect
face, she felt better. She was still angry with her
parents, but at least now she could get through the rest
of the day feeling good about herself. She fluffed her
hair and noticed curls had begun to sneak back into her
über-straight style. She shouldn’t have missed the
flatiron step this morning. She shook her head and looked
in the mirror again. She kind of liked the way her hair
bounced with the curl.
“Kelsey! Come on, it’s time to load up for the feed
store,” Dad yelled from downstairs.
She flicked the bathroom light off and moved toward the
stairs. “Seriously, Dad—load up?” When she turned the
corner of the landing she stopped.
Austin stood on the threshold of the front door, staring
up at her. The screen banged his back, but he didn’t seem
to notice.
She wanted to look aloof to the Texan hulking in the
doorway, but a tiny smile forced itself to the surface
anyway.
Dad said, “Can I help you, son?”