Gone Country (Rough Riders #14)(54)

“Uh, Sierra, no offense, but I don’t even know what the hell that is.”


“Ree. Stop talking, you’re smudging it. I’m almost done.”


Guess finishing her drink was out of the question.


“There.” Sierra peered at her like she was a science experiment. “Okay, I lied. There is one other thing I want to do.”


“What?”


“Where’s your hair spray?”


“Under the sink.”


“Close your eyes again. And umm…tell me if I pull too hard.”


Jesus.


Sierra fogged the bathroom with hairspray and Rielle bit back a cough. The kid did pull and twist her hair harder than she was used to. Well, with the exception of Sunday morning when Gavin had become that sexy hair-pulling beast who drove her insane with lust.


Probably not something she should be thinking about with the man’s daughter right in front of her.


“All right. You’re done with this phase.”


This phase?


Sierra pulled her to her feet.


“No peeking until I tell you.” She spun her forward and to the right. “Open your eyes.”


Rielle mentally practiced her wow face, hoping it reflected in the mirror before her what the f*ck? face. She slowly opened her eyes.


And her wow face was real.


Sierra hadn’t caked on makeup, or given her a look that was too old, too young, or too sophisticated. The effect was very natural. Like Rielle always looked, but better. More polished.


“So? What do you think?”


Rielle met Sierra’s gaze in the mirror. “You were right. This really makes my eyes pop. And I love the lip color.”


“You have the prettiest eyes. Kind of like all the green things you grow are reflected in them.”



She squeezed Sierra’s hand. “Thank you. You are a miracle worker.”


Sierra squeezed her hand back a little harder than Rielle expected. “Stop saying shit like that. Now. What do you think of the hair?”


With her hair spiked every which way it sort of looked like she’d stuck her finger in an electric socket. But it worked. Conveyed a hip, edgy vibe without it seeming like she was trying too hard to be hip and edgy.


“It’s kind of funky, but you need to have a different way to fix yourself up, for when you go out.”


“I do like it.” She touched the top. “It’s easy?”


“Just as easy as what you do now. And when you’re feeling really daring? I’ll show you how to curl it so you look like an angel.”


Now that she’d pay to see. “I’ll take you up on that.”


Sierra’s hands landed on her shoulders. “Don’t get defensive on the next phase. Bear with me.” Then she steered Rielle toward her closet door.


“Oh hell no. You are not rifling through my closet, Sierra.”


“True. You are.”


When Rielle tried to spin around, Sierra held her in place in front of the full length mirror. “We are doing this. First, pick ten or fifteen pieces of clothing you love. Mix it up between jeans, pants, skirts, tops, shorts, dresses and sweaters.”


“Okay. I can do that.”


“Second, pick as many accessories as you want. Belts, scarves, leggings, shawls, jewelry.”


That’d be easy since Rielle had few of those items. “Is that it?”


“Yep. I’ve gotta check something and I’ll be right back.”


She was overcome with guilt opening the closet door because she’d packed so much shit in here after relocating from the upstairs master bedroom. Most of it she didn’t wear, but couldn’t part with because it was so damn ingrained in her not to be wasteful.


Then she felt resentful she was letting a sixteen-year-old fashionista boss her around.


But she’s hit the mark with the makeover so far. Admit you’re having fun. What else would you be doing? Working? Moping because you miss Gavin?


That put Rielle into the spirit of the moment and she tracked down her favorite pieces.


Sierra returned with a half-full garbage bag. The girl didn’t actually believe Rielle would throw away her clothes like on those TV shows?


“Show me whatcha got.”


Sierra nodded approvingly at the pieces Rielle had chosen. “When you’re done in the garden, or taking bread into town, or selling your stuff at market, what do you wear?”


Work clothes. Sometimes the same jeans or shorts she’d worn picking fruit or veggies. She’d wash her hands and put on the first clean T-shirt she could find. She flopped back on the bed. “You’re telling me to stop dressing like a bum?”


“Maybe. You’re hiding behind grungy clothes.” Sierra leaned over her. “Let me help you change that. It’s what I’m good at. And you won’t have to buy anything new unless you want to. We’ll work with what you already have. So what do you say?”


“I say, amen, sister, it’s way past time,” echoed from the doorway.