From This Moment On (11 page)

“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.

11

N
IKKI
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.”

* * *

“W
OW
,
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.”