From This Moment On

11



NIKKI CROSSED THE THRESHOLD into the small stone church and froze. God help her, why were there so many people? Most of the pews were filled. Up front was the dark cherry casket Matt had chosen. She’d gone with him to be supportive and agreed on the style while barely sparing a glance. Vases of flowers had been set on either side and in front of a podium.

Lucy, Matt and Rachel had driven together and were already seated in the first pew. Nikki took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back, ready to make her way down the aisle when she saw the portrait of Wallace. Taken when he was a much younger man, the blown-up head shot sat on an easel to the right of the casket.

That was it for her. She couldn’t seem to make her feet move. Vaguely she recalled Matt and Lucy discussing which picture to use, but Nikki hadn’t seen it. Not this one, anyway. Her mom had once had a similar photo. She’d kept it in a silver frame she polished every day, sitting on a nightstand in the shabby bedroom she’d shared with Nikki. Right after Nikki started kindergarten the photo had disappeared. Just like the man himself had vanished two years prior.

“Nikki?” Trace touched the small of her back. She looked up at him and he smiled. “Let’s find our seats.”

She nodded, took the arm he offered, and then leaned on him the whole way to the front pew. Matt stood, kissed her cheek and indicated the seat next to him. She saw the rest of the McAllisters and Hilda sitting directly behind and gave them a shaky smile before sinking down to the hard wooden bench. A moment of panic nearly set her off, but she relaxed when Trace sat on the other side of her and squeezed her hand.

The minister took his place behind the podium and started with a prayer. Nikki had no idea what he was saying. Her goal was to avoid looking at the picture of Wallace. It stirred up too many bad memories. Of course the stupid easel stood only a few feet away. She couldn’t even look straight ahead without being aware of Wallace’s image. But each time she felt her chest tighten, she squeezed Trace’s hand and he squeezed right back. That’s all it took to calm her, which in itself should’ve terrified her.

That, and how since Wallace’s death she’d been thinking of him as her father. Before it had been easier to think of him as Matt’s father and not hers, or the dying man down the hall. Mostly she realized she’d been better off without Wallace in her life. Matt had been the unlucky one. But somehow she had to get through the service, so she decided to focus her thoughts on Trace...thoughtful, dependable, handsome Trace with his killer smile and big heart. Had she ever encountered someone so unexpected? She didn’t think so. She turned her head a little to look at his profile, and met his watchful green eyes. This time he rubbed his palm against hers, creating a pleasant warm friction. Much better than the squeeze.

God, she wanted to feel his arms around her like yesterday when they’d sat quietly watching the clouds turn pink and orange. He’d known exactly what she needed.

The sudden awkward silence might as well have been a gunshot in the dark. Lost in her own thoughts, she had no idea what was going on, or where they were in the service. Okay, now she was nervous again. She glanced at Trace and saw that he was looking past her and Matt. She turned her head and watched Lucy walk stiffly to the podium. Her hands were as white as the handkerchief she was wringing.

Trace lowered his head and spoke close to Nikki’s ear. “No one volunteered to give the eulogy.”

Oh. Poor Lucy.

The woman was so small you could see only her face over the podium. Nikki imagined that was fine with Lucy, who noisily cleared her throat, started to speak, then cleared her throat again. After about a minute she mumbled something about knowing Wallace his whole life, then gave in to tears. Matt got up and returned her to the pew.

Nikki bit at her thumbnail, a habit she’d kicked long ago. She didn’t want her brother to feel as if he had to say something. It wouldn’t be fair. Everyone would know he was lying if he said anything nice. How awful would that be...?

Rachel seemed worried, too, twisting in her seat to look at her family. Probably giving Cole or Jesse the eye.

Trace released her hand and slowly got to his feet. She hadn’t noticed the black jeans or that he was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and his new boots. None of it mattered. But she wasn’t thinking very clearly.

He looked nervous standing behind the podium trying to loosen his collar and keeping his gaze high. “You folks out there who went to school with me know how much I love being up here,” he said, and people laughed. Eyes downcast, he took a deep breath. “Most everyone knows there was bad blood between Wallace and my family, and I’m not going to stand up here and pretend otherwise. We had our differences.” He shrugged. “But I’m truly sorry Wallace has passed on. He was too young to die and it’s a shame he didn’t have more time to get to know the man his son had become or the fine daughter he brought into this world.”

Nikki held her breath. Trace was looking at her, and she suspected so was everyone else. She would’ve died herself right on the spot if not for the affection on Trace’s face. Somehow she managed to give him a shaky smile.

“Wallace could be mean when he was drinking, though I heard it from people who knew him back in the day that he wasn’t always so ornery. No matter what, the one thing nobody can take away from him is that he produced two exceptional children who will do the Lone Wolf proud and who make our community a better place.” He tugged at his collar again. “I guess that’s all I got to say.”

On his way back to his seat, Matt shook his hand. Then Nikki grabbed it. She didn’t say anything since she didn’t trust her voice, but the rest of the service seemed to go fast. Half the people showed up at the cemetery. She only went because she felt she had to, though she would’ve preferred going to the Lone Wolf with Hilda, Rachel and Mrs. McAllister to handle the food.

Trace stuck by her side, then followed her back to the house. She headed straight for the bar that she’d personally stocked yesterday and poured them each a drink. Screw anyone who didn’t like it. They were welcome to help themselves.

“What is this?” Trace asked, squinting at the glass.

“Tequila.” She held hers up to the light. “I hope.”

“Now, that doesn’t sound good.” He smiled. “You okay?”

“I am now. I can finally breathe again.” She took a sip. “You don’t drink hard liquor, do you? I can get you a beer.”

“This is all right.”

Nikki hadn’t even gone to the kitchen yet. But she saw the casseroles, roasted chicken and salads already spread out on the dining room table and figured she’d get cleanup duty. Several people she didn’t know came up and introduced themselves. Others officially welcomed her to town and extended a blanket invitation to Sunday suppers. Trace was included as if they were a couple. She hoped that hadn’t upset him, though if it had, he didn’t let on.

She smiled and nodded a lot, even when she didn’t understand some of the older people, and just hoped her responses were appropriate.

“Hey, McAllister.” A guy walked toward them holding a plate heaped with food and grinning. He was about Trace’s age but thick around the middle. “I thought you were gonna shit a brick up there talking in front of everybody.”

“I tell you what, Buck. I did just like Mrs. Wilson told us in the ninth grade. Pretend everyone in the audience is naked. If I looked queasy it’s because I got to your ugly ass.”

Buck laughed. “Hi, Nikki. I met you once at the Watering Hole. You probably don’t remember. But I am sorry about your pa.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, wishing she was better at faking a smile. As soon as Buck left to find a chair, she told Trace, “We’re too close to the food. That’s why so many people are stopping. Let’s move.”

He didn’t seem to mind the suggestion and hustled them into the empty living room. “There are a lot of folks here. I doubt we’ll be alone for long.” He brushed the hair off her face. “You look good. I’m glad you’re holding up.”

“Thanks to you,” she said, and he shook his head. “Yes, you. What you did...back at the church...” She swallowed. “Thank you. For all of it. Even though it’s not quite over,” she said, glancing out the window at the cars coming down the driveway. “I feel as though a big weight has been lifted.”

“I’m glad.” The tenderness in his smile reached his eyes. “You seem relaxed.” Something behind her drew his attention. “There’s Sadie. When is she letting you back to work?”

“Oh.” Nikki groaned, turning to glare. Not that Sadie noticed. “I’m so mad at her. She’s making me wait until day after tomorrow and she won’t budge.”

“Good.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Tomorrow night. You and me, we’re going to Kalispell for dinner.” Trace snuck in a quick kiss. “And I’m not budging, either.”

* * *

“WOW, ALL THIS TRAFFIC is making me nervous.” Nikki turned to catch the movie listing being flashed on a monitor outside a theater. She didn’t recognize the titles, but then she hadn’t kept track of new releases since moving to Blackfoot Falls.

Trace was shooting looks at her with one raised eyebrow. “Yeah, okay, so this isn’t Houston but a year from now let’s see how itchy you get to come get your ya-yas out.”

“Ooh, so touchy.” She sat back, checking out restaurant signs and the people crowding the sidewalks. “I was kidding. This is fun. Looks like a lot of tourists, though, what’s that about?”

“We’re close to Glacier National Park, which brings in the summer tourists. In the winter they come to ski Big Mountain. Whitefish Mountain Resort isn’t far from here. Neither is Blacktail Mountain Ski Area. I know you didn’t get to see enough snow in February. We’ll go up there once the resorts open and you’ll have your fill.”

That was a few months off. Would she even still be in Montana? “Do you ski?”

“No,” he said, a hint of regret in his voice. “I thought I’d learn but life seemed to get in the way. Why? You wanna try?”

“Oh, no. Not me. Watching from indoors with a cup of hot chocolate is more my speed.” They stopped for a red light, giving Nikki the chance to read a banner strung to a corner post. “They sure have a lot of festivals here. I wouldn’t mind coming to one. Have you been?” She watched a couple hurrying to cross the street against the light, then turned to Trace when he hadn’t answered.

He was staring at her, a faint smile on his handsome face. His dark hair was as long as she’d seen it, curling at his collar and occasionally falling across his forehead. She was glad he hadn’t cut it.

Reaching for her hand, he intertwined their fingers, his callused palm feeling warm and right against hers. His hunter-green Western shirt was brand-new, probably just out of the packaging. She knew for sure because he hadn’t ironed out the creases from where it had been folded. The thought made her smile.

Trace brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, lingering to inhale the vanilla-scented body cream she’d rubbed everywhere.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look?”

“Once when you picked me up and twice at dinner.” She tried to ignore the heat surging to her cheeks. It had been quite an eye-opener to discover she was more comfortable with Trace teasing and flirting than she was when he got serious and looked dangerously sexy. “But don’t let that stop you.”

His mouth curved in that same slow patient smile he’d given her across their candlelit table an hour ago. She’d had a glass of wine, something she did only on special occasions. His concession was to drink his beer from a wineglass. That had made her laugh, which she suspected had been the point.

Of all the ridiculous things, her nerves were getting the better of her. She couldn’t explain it. She was supposed to be more worldly, more sophisticated and...what was the word...blasé? Yeah, that was it. Anyone may have assumed tonight was something she’d done a thousand times. Not give a second thought to having a really hot guy come to her door, take off his hat, kiss her and tell her she looked beautiful. Oh, not just say the words but really mean it, so that she’d see the truth in his eyes.

She’d certainly tried to give the impression of a woman who’d seen it all when she started at the Watering Hole. And it was partly true. Her fast life in Houston was so different from anything here in Montana, people here wouldn’t get it. But right now she was out of her element, and she had the feeling he knew it. The shift in power would’ve bothered her more if it was anyone but Trace.

He released her hand, slid his arm across the back of her seat and leaned in to her. Their lips barely touched when a horn honked behind them. The light had turned green.

Trace cussed under his breath and hit the accelerator.

Nikki laughed. “What are we doing after the driving tour? Not that I’m not enjoying this.”

“I’d planned on checking out what movies are playing, but I don’t know...” His gaze started at her exposed shoulders then slid down the front of her strappy sundress. “I should be showing you off.”

“Oh, God, there you go being sexist again.”

“I know, and I don’t care.”

She shook her head, faking disgust. The thrilling way he’d practically devoured her with that look trumped political correctness. “Then we should go dancing.”

“Um...”

“Relax. I’m kidding.” She twisted around for a second look at the fancy hotel they’d passed. So much nicer than the motels she’d seen closer to the highway.

Nikki turned back and faced straight ahead. She couldn’t tell if Trace had noticed the hotel or her interest in it. Of course sex was on her mind. And she’d bet her savings he’d been thinking about how tonight they had the perfect opportunity. The heated looks were hint enough. But after throwing herself at him the other night, the subject was still touchy for her.

“You seem restless,” he said. “Is there somewhere you wanted to stop?”

Suspicious that he had seen her check out the hotel and was teasing her, she studied his profile. He wasn’t trying to hold back a smile or anything. “No. Just getting the lay of the land as they say.” She sighed, wishing the horn hadn’t interrupted their almost kiss. “I haven’t had many dates.”

He frowned, darted her a glance. “What’s that?”

She sighed again. The thought had passed through her mind so many times she wasn’t sure she’d meant to say it out loud. “I haven’t had many dates. Not the real kind. Like tonight with you picking me up at the house.”

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t like that in high school.” She shrugged. “My friends and I did group things and then sometimes paired off. After graduation I worked nights, even when I went to community college, so I didn’t have time for a social life.”

“We went out in groups, too. Mostly to football games or rodeos, so I get that. But what about proms or dances or just dinner and a movie?”

Nikki bit her lip. Ten years later and she still cringed just hearing the word prom.

“Obviously you think I’m an old-fashioned country boy, and you go right ahead—”

“I don’t think that at all. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I see you trying not to laugh.” He caught her hand again. “A woman accepts an invitation from me and she’s gonna get picked up at her house, and seen to her door at the end of the night.”

“Oh, boy, if you ever have daughters their teen years won’t be pretty.”

He let out a short laugh. “Probably not.”

“I like that you’re all gentlemanly and chivalrous.” She saw the corner of his mouth quirk. “I do. It’s nice. I wasn’t laughing.” She braced herself. “I had a bad prom experience,” she said, hoping she was right, that telling Trace would ease the tightness in her chest. “I’d met this boy at the mall when I was fifteen. Garrett was seventeen, a private school kid. His family was loaded. Obviously he didn’t live in my neighborhood.

“Anyway, he followed me and a girlfriend around, asked for my cell number, tried to buy me lunch. I kept saying no and—” She smiled sadly. “And probably giggled a lot. Garrett was hot and funny and smart, and not what I was used to, so of course I was flattered. Every day for a week he showed up at the food court where we hung out. I have to admit, I looked forward to seeing him. Finally I gave him my number and agreed to go to a movie. The next weekend it was a party and then another party after that. It went on for three months.

“My friend was convinced he was using me, but he’d never pushed me into sex. We made out a lot but nothing too hot and heavy. I mean, I think Garrett really did like me. He even asked me to go to his prom.” Taking a breather, she studied the familiar storefronts they were passing. Were they headed back to the highway?

Trace squeezed her hand, then released it to use the turn signal. “I’m still listening,” he said quietly.

“His friend heard him ask me and I should’ve gotten a clue from his shocked face. But I was too excited. I’d seen a dress at the mall, a very expensive dress, and I was already planning the argument I’d give my mom. We couldn’t afford it, but I begged and pleaded so I wouldn’t feel out of place with all the rich girls. She gave in, then two days before the prom, Garrett called it off. He was still going, but he had to take someone else.”

She saw that he was pulling the truck over to the curb. “What are you doing? Don’t stop.” Part of the reason she was able to talk about it was the situation. Trace had to divide his attention, and somehow that made it easier. “Please.”

The helpless uncertainty in his eyes touched her. “All right,” he said finally, and returned to the flow of traffic.

“Garrett said he felt terrible. His parents had hired a limo for him, and a photographer to take pictures, and he said he was sorry but they wouldn’t understand him taking someone like me to the prom. He had college to consider and didn’t want to piss them off.” She refused to look for Trace’s reaction. “He said nothing had to change between us. He wanted to continue seeing me.”

“What a bastard.” He spat the words with so much anger she had to look at him. The veins stuck out on his neck.

“It’s okay. Jeez, it was so long ago. Anyway, I should’ve known better. My friends tried to tell me.”

“Tell you what?” Now he sounded angry with her friends.

“That I should stick to my own kind, and that Garrett was too class conscious and would eventually kick me to the curb.” She laid a hand on his thigh. “I don’t think about him anymore. Honestly, I don’t. Of course it crushed me at the time. I was only fifteen. In my head Garrett was like Wallace and I was mad at myself for being as stupid and weak as my mother.”

Trace shot her a confused look.

“Like I said, I was fifteen. One week my mom was the enemy, the next she was my BFF. I took so much crap out on her.” Nikki shuddered at the memories. “What still bothers me is the dress. She busted her butt working overtime to buy it for me. And I couldn’t return it because—” Oh, God.

She laid her head back against the headrest watching the thinning crowd. No use admitting she’d been the worst possible self-centered idiot. It wouldn’t change anything. Already she’d said too much. Trace was probably disgusted with this new glimpse of her. She was pretty sure they were about to reach the highway that would take them back to Blackfoot Falls.

Her hand still rested on his thigh. She could feel the muscle bunch when he applied the brake. “I wanted you to know how special tonight was for me,” she said. “That’s why I told you all that. I wish I hadn’t gone overboard— I don’t know, it felt good to let it out. It’s the first time I’ve told anyone.”

“I’m glad it was me.” He caught her hand when she tried to pull it away and put it back on his thigh. “Garrett’s a damn fool but I can’t say I’m sorry he blew it with you,” he said as they passed the last two motels on the outskirts of town.

If he had planned on a more intimate night, she’d screwed that up. She’d treated him like a friend, not a lover, and she’d never had a man play both roles in her life. And, dammit, Trace made a really great friend. Although she still wanted to find out if she was right about what kind of lover he’d be. She’d sure thought about it often enough.

She held back a sigh. “Hey, can we listen to some music? Matt said they have radio stations here.”

“Yep.” Trace turned the knob and a country song blasted from the speakers. He lowered the volume. “We’ll have reception for about thirty minutes. Go ahead, find something you like.”

Thank God. She was sick of all the country music people played at the bar. After a few seconds of button pushing, she settled on a classic rock station. “This okay with you?” She looked over to find him smiling. “What?”

“I do enjoy your enthusiasm.”

She thought for a moment and laughed. “Matt wanted to kill me by the time we reached Blackfoot Falls. On the trip back we had rules about how many times I was allowed to change stations.”

Trace’s grin widened. “No rules in this truck. Go for it.”

“Ah, you really know how to sweet-talk a girl.” She turned to face him and curled up in the seat. She wasn’t the type to daydream or replay events over and over in her head, not since she was a teenager, anyway. But tonight would live in her memory for a very long time.

They’d been driving awhile when Trace flipped on the interior light and looked over at her.

She blinked. “What are you doing?”

“Getting another eyeful of that dress. Kind of a shame it has to come off,” he said, watching her carefully.

Her breath caught. “And that would be...when?”