Slow Hand

by Victoria Vane

  “Really?” Nikki said. “He hardly strikes me as the workaholic type with all that charm and swagger.”

  Iris shook her head. “You should have known him before. But it’s been even worse on his brother Dirk. He isn’t the same man at all.”

  “Before what?” Nikki asked. “I’m not following you.”

  “Before the accident—”

  “Iris, you worry too much,” Wade’s baritone voice interrupted the exchange.

  He stood in the doorway knotting his necktie. He was now clean-shaven, with his wet hair slicked back. To Nikki’s chagrin, the lack of beard growth only accentuated the damned chin dimple. “I already have a mother, if you recall, and don’t need two. Besides, I’m certain Miz Powell has little interest in my personal history.” His rebuke over the gossip was kind but real, delivered with a steely-eyed smile.

  “Sorry, Wade.” Iris flushed, visibly cowed. “I just think you should take some time off and enjoy life a bit before it all passes you by.”

  “I just returned from two days in Denver,” he said.

  “A working trip,” she argued. “Hardly a vacation.”

  “When the ranch is sold, maybe I’ll take some time off. Perhaps I’ll go to Mexico or try a cruise—if I can find an interesting traveling companion.” He slanted Nikki a sly look.

  What game was he playing by repeating her earlier wishes to go to Mexico or take a cruise? Every comment he made seemed loaded with innuendo.

  When Iris went back to filing, he added in an undertone, “My, my, Miz Powell. All charm and swagger, am I? That’s quite an improvement since I left the room. Words like that are sure to turn my head.”

  Nikki’s gaze locked onto his teasing one, and she felt another flush coming on. “I hardly meant it as a compliment.” Hell no. She’d been a fool for his type too many times before. She didn’t believe his earlier denial either. He was a player of the most dangerous kind—a damned hot cowboy player. She didn’t trust him. But, being honest, she trusted herself even less.

  * * *

  After Wade left for court, Nikki opted for a shower as well. When she entered the bathroom, the pungent scents of cedar and spice mixed with man struck her senses like a two-by-four. In his hurry, Wade had left out his shaving gel and deodorant, neither of which was heavily fragranced. Men like Wade rarely wore fragrances to mask their natural scent. She’d always preferred guys like Wade to the perfumed and overgroomed metrosexuals. Wade’s lingering essence was heavenly. She closed her eyes and breathed in a lungful before turning on the shower.

  Nikki wet her hair and picked up the soap, feeling a moment of hesitation. It was soft and sudsy from his use. It seemed almost obscenely intimate to use the same bar he’d used to lather the most private parts of his body—obscenely intimate and incredibly arousing.

  She’d had a teasing glimpse of his bare torso earlier. Now her imagination painted a portrait of his entire naked body, all big and hard, sinewy and sudsy. She soaped herself, and then applied his shampoo to her hair. Shutting her eyes to rinse, she imagined sharing not only the soap with him, but the shower, too. Dear God, Nikki! Get a grip.

  It had been too long. That was her problem. Six months was far too long to go without sex. Maybe that’s what was making her nuts. And there was an easy enough cure for that. The shower was equipped with an adjustable shower massager. She switched the setting to pulsate and adjusted the angle, and then braced herself against the wall, parting her thighs and letting the pulse of hot water work its magic. It didn’t take long to get off—not once she shut her eyes to more fantasies about Wade. She shut off the water with wobbly knees, but flying solo always left her dissatisfied…and bitchy.

  She wondered briefly if giving in to her attraction might be a cure of sorts. Maybe it would balance her scales. She’d felt completely off-kilter since leaving Atlanta. She knew a lot of women who wouldn’t bat an eye at the thought of a short-term fling.

  Yeah, that’s right, Nikki, let’s just start grasping at straws now. Let’s see if we can fabricate any reason at all to jump into bed with a hot cowboy.

  She’d never needed much reason beyond pure lust in the past. Tight jeans, broad shoulders beneath button-down Western shirts, boots, and hats still combined to make her crazy, but she’d finally learned her lesson after Clint. Yes, she had. Thank you very much!

  She then reminded herself how often she’d been disappointed with cowboys in bed—far more often than not. Kinda like anticipating a full night of rodeo only to have it end with the eight-second ride.

  * * *

  After her shower, Nikki spent the next three hours making calls to the mortuary, her bank, and several credit card companies—all just spinning her wheels. She was almost in tears by the time Wade returned.

  “Care for some lunch?” he asked.

  “No thanks. Iris already brought me something.”

  “Which you didn’t eat.” He nodded to the unfinished sandwich. “From the Star Bakery, too. Best homemade bread around.”

  “I just wasn’t hungry,” she replied. “Help yourself.”

  He parked his ass on the corner of the desk and picked up the other half of her sandwich. He took a big bite. “Has Iris gone home?”

  “Yes. She left a few notes on your desk.”

  “I’ll take a look in a minute.” He surprised her by taking a swig from her Coke. It was a thoughtless act, but struck her once more as too intimate. Drinking after another was something you only did after kissing—with tongue. She recalled with a flush that they’d actually passed that marker already.

  She’d fixed her gaze on his bobbing Adam’s apple as he swallowed and even found that part of him sexy. This wayward pattern of her thoughts was getting out of control.

  “Any progress to report?” he asked.

  She shook her head and massaged her temples. “Not much. I managed at least to get my driver’s license number from my insurance company, but I can’t get a replacement without a credit card. And even then, it could take up to seven days before I receive it. I don’t have seven days! I called to request a longer leave from work but my boss is a coldhearted be-atch. I’ve managed to get the rest of the week off by using up all my vacation time, but if I don’t clock in the following Monday morning, I’m canned for job abandonment.”

  “But then you won’t be working for the coldhearted be-atch anymore.” His crystal-blue eyes twinkled with humor. “You see, darlin’? Every cloud has a silver lining.”

  Nikki couldn’t help herself. For the first time in days, she laughed. Maybe it was just a substitute for despair, but she let it rip, a long, spastic belly laugh that made no sense at all when crying was so much more appropriate. Was she hysterical? By the time her eruption of mirth finally petered out, he looked like he was wondering the same thing.

  “I’m sorry.” She sobered. “Please don’t think I’m unhinged.”

  He grinned wide. “First impressions are mighty hard to dispel.”

  “If you’re referring to Denver, it’s unfair of you to throw that meltdown in my face. You have to understand how much I hate to fly. Even in good weather. It terrifies me, Wade. It’s just not natural to defy gravity like that. I’ll never understand how those hulking tons of metal stay in the sky. Then after all that stress, to find the next flight full, it was all just too much to handle.”

  “Let’s just say your extreme reaction was enough to move me to give up my seat. Matter of fact, I seem to be developing a weakness for helpless and hysterical women. It seems you now have me at your complete mercy.”

  “I’m really sorry about that—for putting you in this position.”

  “Don’t be. I wouldn’t have met you otherwise, and you are most definitely worth the trouble, Nicole Powell.” He gave her a slow smile that warmed her to the toes. “Good thing too, since you carry so much of it around with you.”

  �
�I’m not normally like this,” she protested. “I have it together. Really. My life is very quiet, orderly, and uneventful. And I really like it that way.”

  “Speaking of carrying things…” He ignored her rebuttal. “You might want to grab your bags. My business here is done. I’ll take you to Sheridan now, but I’d rather not come back this way until morning. I’d like to head out to the ranch tonight instead. There’s an important matter I have to discuss with my brother, one that’s best done in person. I think you should come with me.”

  “Why?” she asked. Time away from him was exactly what she needed.

  “I don’t think you should be alone,” he answered, “especially not knowing anyone.”

  She despised her feelings of helplessness, vulnerability, and being out of control. It was as if the moment she’d arrived in Montana, someone had pulled the rug out from under her. Worse still, Wade made her want to trust him, and that was really treading treacherous territory.

  “Your concern is kind but unnecessary,” she said. “I can take care of myself. I’m a grown woman after all.”

  He gave her another slow perusal. “Don’t think that has escaped my notice, but like it or not, you’re stuck with me, since no other cowboy’s come along in his gleaming white pickup to rescue you.”

  “It doesn’t gleam. At all.”

  “It’s nothing a coat of wax…or ten…won’t fix.” He chuckled and flashed her that contagious grin again. She couldn’t help smiling back.

  “If you really prefer it, I’ll bring you back here for the night, but you’d be much more comfortable bunking at the ranch.”

  Although she hated the thought of being alone, his suggestion spelled “danger” in blazing neon.

  “I don’t think it’s such a good idea,” she said. “It’s one thing for me to stay here at your office, but quite another to intrude on your family.”

  “Look. It ain’t like that here. We have one of the sparsest populations in the country. We embrace strangers. In fact, Mama will probably try to move you in. It’s not often she gets to have a hen party, outnumbered by men as she always is.”

  She gnawed her lip. “I don’t know.” She’d be a fool to spend any more time alone with him, but being truthful with herself, she didn’t really want to be by herself in a strange place either.

  “It’s not a problem,” he insisted. “They’re already aware I may be bringing a guest.”

  Wade’s offer seemed genuine. When Nikki weighed her options, she found she really had none. It would be pointless to stay in town when she still had no money and no transportation. Stifling the frantic neon flash in her brain, she replied, “If you’re really certain about this…”

  “Yeah. There’s nothing to entertain you in Virginia City.”

  “What about that ten-cent tour you promised me?”

  “Oh that? I guess it slipped my mind. I’ll make it up to you when we come back through. Tell you what, I’m feeling generous. I’ll throw in Nevada City for free.”

  Chapter 5

  “How far is it to Sheridan?” she asked.

  “About twenty miles. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  “Ready? What do you mean?”

  “Have you ever seen a dead body before?”

  She licked her lips. “I’ve been to a few funerals.”

  “This isn’t the same. It’s not like a viewing in a casket. He hasn’t been embalmed and the body will be in a refrigerated holding area. It’s not going to be a pretty sight. Although there should be minimal decomposition, you need to prepare yourself.”

  She swallowed hard but it did nothing to alleviate the sudden dryness in her throat.

  He turned toward her, placing his large warm hand on her knee. “I just want to be sure you understand that. Are you sure you want to go through with it?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I need to do this.”

  “All right then.” He released his hand from her leg with a nod and then started the engine.

  They drove to Sheridan in silence. Wade threw her occasional assessing glances, but seemed to understand she needed the quiet to compose herself. When they arrived, she hopped out of the truck before he could even open his door.

  “Don’t you want me to go with you?” he asked.

  His offer took her aback more than she wanted to admit, but she had to do this alone. She was strong enough to handle it. “No, I don’t think so,” she said. “You didn’t even know him, after all.”

  The smile left his eyes. “I’m not offering for him, Nicole. I’m offering for you.”

  Nikki didn’t know how to respond to that. She could deal with the flirty cowboy, but this sudden protective turn threw her for a real loop. “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Just seems like the right thing to me.”

  Oh, that was all. She deflated. He was just being the gentleman his Southern-bred mama raised him to be. “That’s kind of you, but I’m really OK. I shouldn’t be long.”

  * * *

  The moment Nikki entered the morgue, she realized she wasn’t ready at all. Although Wade had tried to warn her, nothing could have prepared her for the reality. It was so cold her teeth chattered, and the sickly sweet smell of decay drifted faintly through the air. Her head reeled and her stomach churned, as nausea and lightheadedness dueled for supremacy. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to faint or puke, but when the attendant opened the drawer to reveal the body, she forgot everything else.

  Time suspended as she gazed upon a grim, blue-tinged replica of the father she once knew. His hair had thinned and receded and his body was at least thirty pounds heavier than she remembered. Her gaze focused on his face, wrinkled around his eyes and more deeply grooved around his mouth. Set in harsh lines, it was nothing like the smiling face she recalled in her memories. Desperate to replace this ghoulish version with the father she remembered, Nikki closed her eyes and dug into the deep recesses of her mind.

  Although the memories had grown a bit hazy over twenty some years, she recalled his warm hazel eyes beneath the battered straw Stetson, the faded jeans, and the pointy-toed boots that he always wore…and his big, slightly gap-toothed smile. All of these things she associated with the happiest years of her childhood—before the bad times got worse. Before the divorce. Before he disappeared from her life for good.

  Even in those early days when it was just the three of them, life was an emotional roller coaster. She remembered weeks at a time with him gone. Her mother’s tantrums and fits of depression. The good times when he’d come home sober, tossing Nikki into the air and calling her Sweet Pea. And the frequent bad times he came home staggering and reeking of booze.

  Arguments always followed. Accusations and curses were screamed back and forth. Four-letter words that Nikki was too young to comprehend tainted the air. More often than not, there’d be shattered glass or holes punched in the walls. Nikki would huddle out of sight and pretend to be invisible while the storms raged. Once or twice she’d even seen the flashing blue lights of a police car, but the aftermath was always the same. Noises of another sort altogether—from behind a locked bedroom door.

  Her existence virtually forgotten, Nikki would retreat to her own room. The routine was pretty much the same until the night she woke up to a trailer filled with smoke—the night they’d lost everything.

  Only now could she even begin to understand the true fire-and-gasoline dynamic of having an alcoholic father and a histrionic mother. It was a destructive relationship in every way.

  But there were a few good memories—like her sixth birthday when he’d surprised her with a trip to Cleveland, Georgia, to buy her a Cabbage Patch doll. She’d wanted one for Christmas. All of her friends had them, but the stores couldn’t keep them on the shelves. Knowing her disappointment, Daddy had taken her to Babyland General. She’d seen Mother Cabbage beneath the Magic Cr
ystal Tree and watched the birth of the cabbage babies. She even got to pick the one she wanted. After signing the oath of adoption for Zora Mae, she took her doll home. It was one of her fondest childhood memories, and she still had the ugly damned doll.

  Nikki opened her eyes and reached out her hand, forcing herself to touch him, but recoiled at the contact with flesh that was as hard and cold as stone. Her throat grew thick, her vision blurred, and her chest ached with raw regret. He was gone, and only this frigid, hollow shell remained.

  She fingered the tattered letter in her pocket—his last words to her, which she’d nearly memorized. It was written in a shaky, near-illegible scrawl and filled with excuses, apologies, and pleas for forgiveness. Words penned following five years of sobriety. They both opened and salved the old wounds.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy, so very sorry. I never gave you a chance to make things right when you tried.”

  She wasn’t sure how long she stood there. It could have been a minute or an hour, or anything in between. When she thought she’d lose it altogether, when she longed for a strong shoulder to lean on, Wade was suddenly there beside her.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  His deep voice and solid presence offered comfort that she was almost desperate to claim, yet she held back. “What loss?” She almost choked on the lie. “I hardly even knew him.”

  His big warm arm came around her. “Wanna talk about it?”

  “Not particularly,” she sniffed. She never talked about her screwed-up family. “You don’t want to hear about my childhood any more than I want to talk about it.”

  “Sometimes it helps just to get it out, Nikki. When did your parents split?” he gently prompted.

  “Before I started first grade. When I was a kid I didn’t understand why Daddy packed up and moved out. When I asked my mom, she just said he was a drunk and a cheater, and that he never loved us, which was why he was never around.”