From This Moment On

10



“THIS IS WAY TOO MUCH food.” Nikki eyed the huge bowl of cubed potatoes, then frowned at the whole ones she had yet to cut up. “Everyone’s going to be eating potato salad for a month.”

“Don’t bet on it.” Rachel used the back of her wrist to dab at her tears. “Any time you want to trade is okay with me. We don’t need as many onions.”

“No, thanks.” Nikki started to smile, then sighed.

She probably should show more gratitude. Here Rachel, Hilda and Mrs. McAllister were doing all this work to feed people after Wallace’s funeral tomorrow. Plus they were dirtying their own kitchen. All because Lucy insisted on a proper church service and burial.

Matt hadn’t argued with her, though Nikki doubted he cared one way or the other. She’d stayed completely neutral. What mattered most to her was that this whole thing be over and done with. Let everyone get back to normal. Including her. Last night Sadie had refused to let her work again. It had really pissed Nikki off. She’d already done her dutiful best the night Wallace died.

So what she’d remained in the corner praying for a shot of tequila until Wallace’s body was taken away and everyone left. At least she’d been present, and that was more than anyone should’ve expected. Rachel hadn’t batted an eye, and that was one of the things Nikki liked about Matt’s girlfriend. She was totally nonjudgmental and supportive at the same time. Must be a McAllister trait. Trace was the same way.

Nikki hadn’t seen him since that night.... Actually, it had been after midnight when he left. She’d gone up to her room five minutes later, feeling no less embarrassed than she had when he’d turned down her offer.

God, the humiliation still hadn’t disappeared. If things had gone differently and they’d had sex? Hard to even imagine how she’d be feeling. He’d been right to refuse. She kind of owed him, though she was happy to ignore the incident.

“Will there be booze served at this thing?” she asked.

“Huh. I don’t recall it coming up.” Rachel turned away from the cutting board, making a face and sniffling. “I am so over dicing onions. This has to be enough.”

“No.” Hilda kept stirring the refried beans on the stove, but frowned at the small mound in front of Rachel. “We need at least three more.”

“Seriously?”

Hilda gave her a look that said she was quite serious.

“I’ll do it,” Nikki said. “This is for my fa—” She almost choked on the word. Where had that come from? “For Matt and me,” she muttered, focusing her attention on laying down the knife. “Let’s trade.”

“No, it’s okay.” Rachel gave an exaggerated sniff. “Really.”

Hilda shook her head and went back to humming while she stirred.

Nikki sighed. The onion-dicing job would be better for her. Every now and then, she got a little teary-eyed. She couldn’t explain it, other than a general feeling of sadness. But if the waterworks started, at least she could blame the onions.

“I want to do it, honest.” She tried to elbow Rachel aside.

“No, go call Matt. Ask him if we should offer beer and/or liquor tomorrow.”

“You know him,” Nikki said. “He won’t care.”

“Yeah, maybe we should ask Lucy.”

“She’s not home,” Mrs. McAllister said, carrying in bags of beef and vegetables she’d gone to get from the freezer. “She’s delivering the clothes Wallace is to be buried in.”

Nikki stared down at the potatoes. His death hadn’t completely sunk in yet. His bedroom door remained closed. Every time she went upstairs it was a jolt to realize he wasn’t there.

“Thank you for doing all of this,” she said quietly. “I can’t say I understand...I know how horrible he was to your family.”

“Wallace wasn’t always difficult.” Mrs. McAllister dropped the packages on the counter and patted her arm. “As a young man he could be quite charming. Besides, this really isn’t for him.”

Charming.

The word alone was like an intolerable high-pitched scream to her ears. Nikki’s mother had used the same description. He’d charmed his way right into her bed and made promises he never intended to keep. But then Wallace had made a daughter, too, and hadn’t kept her, either.

Dammit, she’d also made a promise, one she had yet to honor. Why was she finding it so hard to call her mom? Why did her mother even care that he was gone?

She smiled at Mrs. McAllister, who’d moved to the sink. “We’re trying to decide whether to serve booze tomorrow. I can pick some up after I leave here.”

“That’s your call. Some people do, some don’t.” She narrowed her eyes at something outside the window. “What in the world is that woman thinking? That stallion was still rearing not ten minutes ago. Trace doesn’t need to be distracted.”

Nikki and Rachel hurried to the window. He was in the corral with a horse, holding a lead, trying to calm the animal down. A blonde Nikki recognized from the bar had slipped between the railings. Dividing his attention between her and the now bucking stallion, Trace waved frantically for the woman to get out.

Rachel cursed under her breath. “I’ll go get her.”

It was too late.

Trace lost the lead, fell hard and rolled clear of the horse’s hooves by a scary few inches. The blonde scrambled to safety outside the corral. A cowboy ran from the barn to help Trace regain control of the stallion.

“It seems we need to have another talk with the guests after dinner.” Mrs. McAllister’s hand was at her throat, her face pale.

“I’m going to have one with Eve right now,” Rachel said, steam practically coming out of her ears.

“No, don’t. Trace is going to talk to her.”

Watching him walk over to the guest, Nikki knew he was hurt. He subtly probed his left shoulder and winced. After speaking with the woman for a minute, he gave her the usual killer smile. But as soon as he started walking toward the house putting her behind him, the smile abruptly vanished as if a switch had been flipped.

“My poor brother,” Rachel said. “I’ve been overloading him with guest stuff and with all his other duties he’s exhausted.” She sighed. “These women have been driving him nuts lately. He’s so sick of them. I’ll have to figure something out.”

“Other than his shoulder he seems okay,” his mother murmured. “He reminds me of your father more and more each day. Same mannerisms, same temperament. Of all your brothers he’s most— Oops, he’s headed for the mudroom. I doubt he’ll appreciate us standing around watching him. I have to run upstairs, anyway.”

As soon as she left, Nikki looked at Rachel. “Trace is like your dad?”

Rachel blinked. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

Quite a compliment considering what she’d heard about Gavin McAllister. “Does he know that?”

Rachel shrugged. “Beats me.” Her gaze returned to the window. “I hadn’t really thought about it before.”

Nikki saw that he was close to the house. “I need to talk to him.”

“Go,” Rachel said, with a nod at the mudroom door.

“Thanks.” It would be private in there, at least for a few minutes. Trouble was, she didn’t know what she wanted to say except to apologize for the other night.

He entered from outside just as she came in from the kitchen. His brows lifted in surprise. “Hey, I didn’t know you were here.”

“Are you all right?” She stopped when he did, standing a few feet away and feeling awkward, unnerved that her first instinct had been to touch him.

“Fine. Why?”

“I saw you fall.”

Disgust transformed his expression. Flushing, he squeezed his eyes shut and muttered a mild curse.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It wasn’t your fault.”

He yanked his gloves off and squinted at her. “Who said I’m embarrassed?”

“Okay,” she said, trying not to smile. “Forget I said that.” She cleared her throat. “And while we’re at it, can we forget about the other night?”

“Why?” He shrugged, doing a better job than her of controlling a smile. “What happened?”

She fixed her gaze on his shoulder because she was still worried about him, but also to avoid his eyes. “Thank you for not taking advantage of my stupidity.”

“Told you. It’s forgotten.” He reached for her hand and drew her closer. “How are you holding up?”

“Numb, confused, overwhelmed...” She sighed. “Anxious to get back to work. Sadie wouldn’t let me go back last night.”

“She was right not to,” he said, rubbing her arm.

“I’m better off keeping busy.”

“Yeah, but you never know what bonehead thing a customer will say that could set you off. I’m not naming names, mind you.”

Nikki smiled. “What else hurts besides your shoulder?”

“Ah, Jesus.” He let her go and plowed his hand through his hair. “Nothing. Nothing hurts.”

“Well, I see your ego is in working order.”

One side of his mouth lifted and he caught her chin. “Lucky for you I hear people in the kitchen,” he whispered.

“Yes, they’re waiting to fawn all over you.”

“Well, hell.” He lowered his hand and yanked a glove back on. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Wait.” She laughed. “Where are you going?”

“Where there aren’t females trying to either get me hurt or patch me up.” He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “How long you gonna be around?”

“Until we’re done preparing food for tomorrow.” She shook her head. “We’re making a ton of stuff. Way too much. I keep telling everyone— Go, before it’s too late.”

Trace smiled. “I’ll see you later, huh?”

Nikki nodded, amazed how much better she felt just talking to him. “You’ll be there tomorrow, right? At the funeral.”

“Of course I will.” He gave her a long gentle look that stirred a whole new batch of strange emotions inside her. “Standing right beside you.”

* * *

TRACE HADN’T PULLED close enough to the curb to be legal. But that was just too damn bad. Main Street wasn’t exactly bustling at suppertime and he didn’t plan on staying long anyway. He opened the heavy oak door to the Watering Hole and backed up onto the sidewalk when Nikki stormed toward him.

“Oh.” Frowning, she stopped, leaving enough room for him to close the door. “What are you doing here this early?”

“What am I doing here? Just this afternoon we talked about you not coming back to work too soon.”

“Actually, no, we didn’t.” Shoving her fingers through her hair, she dislodged her ponytail and ripped off the elastic band. “You agree with Sadie. I don’t.”

“So, are you working or not?”

“Sheila’s in there,” she said. “Sadie asked her to cover for me tonight.” Nikki growled and groaned at the same time, her restless gaze sweeping the street. “I’m so pissed I can’t see straight. Why does everyone think they can make decisions for me?” She exhaled a harsh breath, then eyed him with a frown. “I assume you came for a beer. I’ll have one with you.”

“I didn’t come here to drink. I came to talk some sense into you.”

Her lips parted and she just stared at him for a long drawn-out moment. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.” He tugged on a lock of her hair. So soft and shiny, he wanted to grab a whole handful. “You gonna stand out here and argue with me?”

She sighed, her shoulders sagging as if the fight had suddenly left her. “I haven’t called my mom yet.”

He took her arm and guided her the few feet to his truck. “Are you saying this is cosmic justice? I doubt you’re being punished for procrastinating.”

“What?” She looked at him and laughed, then sighed again. “Oh, Trace, I want life to be normal. I need normal.”

“You might want to look up the definition.” He opened the passenger door, feeling that familiar tug in his chest when she looked up at him with those wide trusting eyes. “You waiting for me to lift you up?”

“I’m kinda normal. You just aren’t used to city women.”

“Right.” He snorted a laugh. “Because I haven’t had my fill in the past year.”

“Hey, what about me? Had enough of me?”

“Sometimes I can’t decide if I wanna kiss you or strangle you.” He had her trapped between the door and the seat, his body blocking her escape. “Does that answer your question?” He leaned close enough to kiss her, close enough to see the gold flecks of excitement dancing in her warm brown eyes.

“I get that,” she said with a small grin. “Where are we going?”

“For a ride...maybe find a place to park on one of the ridges.”

Her brows lifted.

He smiled, draping one arm over the door and letting his weight bring him even closer to her. “And watch the stars.”

Nikki laughed and pushed him back so she had room to climb up by herself. But she caught the sore spot on his shoulder, and he winced before he could stop himself.

She got in and turned in time to see it. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. God, Trace, are you bruised? Let me see.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine,” he muttered, made sure she was clear, shut the door and rounded the hood.

“Why don’t I drive us in my truck?” she asked, eyeing his shoulder as he slid in behind the wheel.

“No, thanks. I saw how you drive.”

“Hey.” She drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest. “That was different.”

“You want to call your mom now?”

She shot him a startled look. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Want me with you when you call?”

After taking a deep breath, she nodded, which shocked him. He hadn’t expected her to let him listen. If she changed her mind before they found someplace private, he’d understand.

He pulled a U-turn and drove toward the Sundance. She stretched out her legs, dug into her pocket and brought out her cell phone. All she did was stare at it, though, then turn her head to watch the scenery.

It was still light. Usually he liked the longer June days, but not this evening. He would’ve preferred a nice dusky glow. The upside was they’d probably be able to catch a decent sunset.

“You’re not taking me home, are you?” she asked ten minutes into the ride. “Because I won’t—”

“Nope.”

She twisted around to check the mile marker they were passing. “I don’t want to go to the Sundance, either.”

“Good.”

Settling back, she stared at her phone again. “Wherever we’re going, will I have cell service?”

“Yep.”

“Can you manage more than one syllable while you drive? Because if not I can take over.”

Grinning at her, he lifted his boot off the accelerator, then slowly made the turn.

Sitting taller, she peered out the windshield. “Oh. I know where we are. I think.”

Trace didn’t correct her. She’d see soon enough she hadn’t been up to this particular meadow. He shifted to four-wheel drive and took them up as far as the eroded trail would allow. The last of the yellow and purple wildflowers dotted the mountainside. Another week and they’d fade.

“Wow, this isn’t where I thought we were. It’s pretty, but why are there flowers up here and nowhere else?”

“It’s cooler because of the elevation so they hang on longer. A month ago there were three times as many. Wait until next spring. You’ll see all kinds of wildflowers in back of the Lone Wolf.” He cut the engine and suddenly her attention went straight to her phone.

“Okay, I’m ready to do this.”

“Want me to take a walk?”

“No.” She grabbed his arm, surprising both of them. “I don’t understand why she wants to know,” Nikki said, letting him go to press speed dial. “I mean, she hasn’t even seen Wallace in over twenty years. What difference does it make that he’s dead?” She held the phone to her ear with an unsteady hand. “She’s finally getting married to a decent man and moving to— Mom? It’s me.”

Nikki turned away from him, her back stiff and tense. He lifted the center console out of the way and angled his body, sliding closer to her so he could reach her shoulders.

She jumped, but when he started to massage and work out the knots, she relaxed. “How are you? Getting packed?” She paused. “No, everything is fine.” Another pause. “How did you know?” she asked, her voice softer. “Yes, he died in his own bed. Last night. No, actually the night before but I’ve been kinda busy helping make food for after the funeral. Fine. I promise.”

Letting her chin fall forward, she quietly listened to whatever her mother had to say as he continued to carefully work his fingers into the layer of muscle above her shoulder blades.

“No,” she said after a minute. “I’m with a friend. No. No. Why does it matter?” Nikki sighed, and Trace smiled, wondering if she realized she sounded like an annoyed teen being interrogated. “Rachel’s brother, okay?” She stiffened again. “Yes, it’s Trace.”

So she’d spoken of him to her mother. Well, wasn’t that something? He splayed his hand and ran it down her back, giving her the bonus rubdown. She gave a tiny shiver and sent a glare over her shoulder.

He winked at her.

Rolling her eyes, she faced the passenger door again but made it obvious by leaning back that he was to return to his slave duty. “You sound good. I expected you to be upset.” Nikki got quiet, listening for a while and really starting to relax.

“Oh, Mom, I’m sorry. Though I should’ve known, because I couldn’t figure out why you’d want the details.” She laughed. “If you knew how much I was dreading this call—” Nikki went perfectly still. “What? Say that again.”

All the tension he’d managed to work out returned full force. She leaned forward as if she wanted him to stop touching her. So he lowered his hands, feeling as though he’d caught some of her anxiety.

“What did you tell him?” She chewed her thumbnail, something he hadn’t seen her do before. “No, no, I understand. How was he? No, I meant...could you tell if he’d been using?”

Her voice had lowered but of course he was still able to hear everything, and she had to know.

“Good for him.” She started to rock, a slow small motion that might be giving her comfort but made him edgy as hell.

It was crazy how much this woman continued to get to him. How many nights had he lain awake trying to figure out what it was about her that had him feeling as if he was running a race without a finish line. He’d tried taking small time-outs since she’d come back. Staying away from the bar, away from her, hoping to get his head straight.

He’d even tried convincing himself to call the pretty blonde he’d met at the Billings auction. She’d given him the green light and two phone numbers. Might’ve been smart to take her out to dinner, see what happened. Right now, he couldn’t even remember her damn name. Hanging around Nikki did that sort of thing to him. Made no sense. Until he’d met her, he even preferred blondes. What was that about?

Clenching his jaw, he noticed the way her shoulders had slumped. She was still rocking, and he wanted to grab the phone from her and stop whatever was making her unhappy. The riding in on a white horse crap wasn’t his style, either. He liked things nice and easy. More than once he’d been accused of hiding behind his “trademark smile.” Not that he gave a damn. Why mess with something that worked just fine?

“No, Mom, really...I swear you did exactly right. I’ve got to go, though. Say hi to Edward for me, and I’ll talk to you before you leave for Mexico City.” She disconnected the call and with a sigh, dropped the phone onto the seat beside her.

“You okay?”

She scooted back, found his arms and pulled them around her as she leaned against his chest. “The clouds are pretty with those streaks of pinkish-orange.”

Closing his eyes, he inhaled the floral scent of her hair. His arms rested loosely just below her breasts. She only wanted comfort, and he wanted to give her that but, damn, she wasn’t making it easy.

“Trace?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for being a friend,” she said softly.

He smiled, feeling more than a little deflated, and kissed her hair. Okay, so maybe he’d grown bored of nice and easy. Besides being gutsy, loyal, independent and sweetly vulnerable, Nikki was by far the most complicated woman he’d ever met.