“I look tired?”
“Half-dead.”
Trace chuckled. “That about sums it up. I’ll pass on the coffee, though.”
“You know you can come in and see her without ordering anything.”
He frowned, thought about a denial...
“Don’t give me that scowl. I’m old, not stupid.” Sadie snorted. “She’s coming. Look sharp.”
“You’re not old. And I always look sharp.”
“That grin of yours should be illegal,” she said, slowly shaking her head, then wandering toward the other end of the bar.
Unable to help himself, he tipped back in his seat, pretending to stretch, and angled for a better view of Nikki.
She sure didn’t look happy to see him. She almost stopped in her tracks. What was that about? The kiss? He thought they’d figured that out.
“What are you doing here?” The brief frown she sent him held an accusation he didn’t get. “Josh said you worked late.”
“I did.”
“So? Should you be drinking beer and then driving?” She leaned over the bar searching for something or other.
It nearly killed him keeping his eyes from going straight to her nice round behind. His mind flashed back to earlier. His hand had rested right there at the curve when he’d kissed her. The temptation to fill his palms had damn near crippled him.
“How long have you been here?”
“What?” he asked, having trouble switching gears. “Ah, ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Why aren’t you playing pool? Have you been back there yet?” She was acting peculiar, kind of nervous, glancing toward Sadie, then finally slipping behind the bar and setting up shot glasses.
“I don’t feel like playing tonight. Who’s back there?” He didn’t really care. He wanted her to finally look at him, or at least figure out why she wouldn’t.
“The regulars.”
He watched her make busywork out of pouring two tequila shots and filling three mugs. “You mad at me?”
“No.” She looked at him then and sighed. “Why would I be mad?”
“I can’t think of a reason. Nothing we hadn’t already ironed out, anyway,” he said, lowering his voice as if anyone who heard would know what he meant.
She smiled down at the lime she was cutting up, and he was pretty sure she was remembering the kiss. Good. It didn’t seem fair for him to be doing all the thinking on it. Lord knew he’d done plenty of that the whole time he’d helped five guests saddle up for their trail ride with Lucas, and then finished vaccinating the rest of the calves. A couple of the women commented on his exceptionally pleasant mood. Probably had something to do with the sappy grin Josh had been quick to point out.
Trace turned to look toward the pool room. Feeling this tired, he wouldn’t play if someone paid him. He couldn’t take a humiliating loss from Sam, or in front of him. The guy was getting on Trace’s nerves. Maybe he’d stick to sitting at the bar. He’d see more of Nikki... The downside was the guests. Harder for the women to get to him around the crowded pool table.
“What?” Nikki asked. “Why are you staring back there?”
“No reason.” So that’s what finally got her full attention? She was studying his face close enough to see which spots he’d missed with the razor. “Is Josh playing?”
“He was, but I don’t know about now. Want me to check?”
“You’re jumpy.”
“Am I?” She moved a shoulder. “I don’t think so.” After loading her tray, she came back around to his side. “I have to deliver these drinks. Be right back.”
“Okay.”
She’d taken a few steps, then backed up. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“I won’t move a muscle.” A whole lot more than his muscles were twitching. This was new, her acting as if she cared whether he stayed or left.
Watching her go from table to table did a better job of getting him revved than caffeine. A second wind was coming on worthy of a high gust warning, and if she wanted him to wait until she got off work, he’d be ready for anything.
“Hi, Trace.”
He recognized Karina’s voice behind him, too close behind, and he did everything in his power not to cringe as he turned his head. “Evening.”
“I didn’t know you were coming to town or I would’ve bummed a ride.” She slid onto the stool beside him. Her heavy floral perfume almost knocked him off his seat. “Will you let me buy you a drink this time?”
“Thanks, but I’m done.” He patted his belly...out of habit...and could’ve done without the lingering gaze. “Not one of my better ideas,” he said with a smile. “Coming to town. I’m too tired to be out this late.” He faked a yawn, covered it and murmured an apology.
“Maybe I should drive you home.”
His almost-choke was genuine enough. “I have my truck.”
Karina smiled. “I assumed you did. Is it a manual? I can handle a stick shift.”
“You stay here and enjoy yourself. I’m good to drive.” He watched Nikki set down drinks and shoot glances back. “Or else she would’ve cut me off,” he said, with a nudge of his chin.
Karina didn’t bother looking. “Is Nikki your girlfriend?”
He laughed, thought what the hell and leaned a little closer. “I’m working on it.”
The woman didn’t seem the least put off. She nodded, widened her smile. “Does she know?”
“Kind of hard to judge.” He was busy tracking Nikki, but Karina’s soft laugh brought him back.
“I pity you.”
“Why?” He frowned. “She say something?”
“No. Nothing like that.” She tilted her head slightly to the side, studying him as if he was a lab rat. “You’re a good-looking charismatic guy and all these pushy city women must drive you crazy.”
He drew back, shaking his head and avoiding her gaze. Grabbing the bottle he’d pushed aside, he took a sip of lukewarm beer. “Hey, I’m just a simple cowboy.”
“Maybe you were before your sister started the dude ranch, but I doubt it.”
“You think differently, you’ll be disappointed.”
“Would you like to prove it?”
No ignoring the urge to look at her face. She sounded weird, not flirty, sort of like she was conducting business. Her eyes were brown, he noticed for the first time, though not warm and pretty like Nikki’s. Karina’s eyes were too shrewd. “Are you sitting at a table or would you like me to get Sadie’s attention for you?” he asked.
“I just got here.” The woman still hadn’t broken eye contact. She kept staring at him, and smiling, as if that would make it less rude. “But I can wait for a drink. Let me ask you something...think it would help if you made Nikki jealous?”
“No,” he said abruptly. “No, ma’am, I do not.” That was it. He’d have to leave. Man, he’d been hoping to talk Nikki into taking a five-minute break and going outside with him. He dug in his pocket for money. “I need to get home.”
“I’m sorry. It seems I’ve given you the wrong impression.” Karina laughed and touched his arm. “Though I do have a proposition for you.”
Nikki walked up at that exact moment. Even if she’d pretended not to hear, it would’ve been impossible to believe. No worries there. She didn’t bother playacting. Later if he mentioned the annoyed hair flip over her shoulder, or the firm set of her lips that was half pout, half screw-you, she’d deny she ever did those things.
No, she wasn’t happy. But she slid behind the bar and plastered on a smile for Karina. “Has Sadie taken your order?”
The blonde shook her head. “I’d love an appletini.” She glanced at Trace. “I’m still offering to buy you a beer.”
“Pass. Thanks.” He tried in vain to catch Nikki’s eye. “I’m cashing out.”
“You know how much, just leave it.” She focused on lining up liquor bottles and finding a suitable glass.
“I’ll see you day after tomorrow, right? Same time?”
Her head came up
. She frowned. “Oh, right.” Their eyes met for a split second, then she swept a gaze over Karina that ended on the drink fixings. “Drive carefully,” Nikki murmured.
Unfortunately, at the exact moment Karina said, “I still want to talk to you, Trace.”
Nikki kept her eyes downcast and her expression completely blank.
“Good night, ladies.” He pushed in his stool. If Karina thought him rude for not answering, so be it. The woman knew she was causing trouble for him. So what that she was a Sundance guest? That didn’t excuse her. Partly his fault for opening his big mouth, but enough was enough.
He wasn’t going to get Nikki’s attention again, and he sure wasn’t up to listening to Karina. Halfway to the door, Eli Roscoe from the Circle K stopped him to ask if he’d heard about the next mustang roundup. Since Trace was straddling the fence on the issue, and still doing some reading on the timing viability, he wasn’t keen on entering into a hot discussion.
In fact, he wanted to get the hell out of there. Unless Karina had moved to a table and he could have a minute alone with Nikki. He took a chance and looked in that direction. Nikki was leaning toward Karina, intently listening to the woman. Blinking, she drew back, her lips parted in surprise. She glanced at him and burst out laughing.
* * *
NIKKI STARED AT HER reflection in the mirror as she brushed her teeth and checked for puffiness around her eyes. Last night she’d managed to get to sleep by two and woke up by nine this morning on her own. Not bad. She was really trying hard to adopt a better schedule. Partly to be a team player, though mostly in self-defense. When these country people said rise and shine, they meant before sunrise. Never gonna happen for her, but she could learn to compromise.
Today she was going to see Trace at their secret spot. It had been her first thought when she woke up feeling like a kid on Halloween morning. Her classmates had all loved Christmas best. Not her. She liked dressing up as someone else. With the right costume, no one could tell she was one of the poor kids. If you weren’t riding a shiny new bike by Christmas afternoon, everyone knew you belonged in that neighborhood... As if everyone west of Dairy Ashford had the damn plague.
She’d had it easier than most because the boys thought she was hot. Even the private school guys had sniffed around her at the mall, tried to buy her things, asked her to go on dates. The Galleria Mall was where she’d first met Garret Livingston when he was seventeen and she was an easily impressed fifteen-year-old.
Oh, God, she didn’t want to think about him now. Or the stupid prom. The dress, no, she refused to think about the dress. That’s what always got to her the worst. If she could’ve changed anything about that day...anything at all...
But that was impossible and she sure knew that by now. She just wished the memories would stop sneaking in. Though they came less often now, and only when she was feeling down. She’d never been able to completely let go of the shame of being needy and foolish and horrible to her mom. So why today? Was her subconscious trying to tell her something? Like she had no business missing Trace. They’d kissed, big deal, and now she couldn’t stand not seeing him for one crummy day? It wasn’t as if they suddenly had a thing.
Or maybe the problem went deeper. Would getting involved with Trace be repeating the mistake she’d made with Garrett? No, they were two different guys. Sure there was some common ground, like looks, good family, the right name, but lumping Trace in with Garrett was just plain ridiculous. And insulting to Trace. Anyway, her subconscious could just chill. She had no intention of hooking up with anyone in the near future.
She left her room, closing the door behind her. As always, it was quiet in the hall. Deathly quiet. She glanced at Wallace’s closed door and shivered. Quickly she shifted her thoughts to the other night and hurried toward the stairs. Thinking about what Karina had to ask Trace had Nikki biting her lip. She’d given her word she’d keep mum, in exchange for the woman’s promise Nikki could be there when the bomb was dropped. It sure wouldn’t be easy.
With a grin, she swung off the last step and nearly knocked Lucy over. The frail housekeeper lost her grip on the laundry basket she was carrying and it fell to the floor. Amazingly the orderly stacks of folded clothes stayed intact. Lucy bent to retrieve the basket but Nikki grabbed it first.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” Nikki balanced the basket against her hip and touched Lucy’s bony arm. As short as Nikki was, she felt tall next to the woman. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Lucy smiled. “I’m not used to having kids around the house again. It’s nice.”
“I’m twenty-five.”
“You and Matt are still kids to me. I just made a fresh pot of coffee. I assume you’re headed for the kitchen.” Lucy tried to take the basket but Nikki wouldn’t have it.
The guilt for not chipping in more was finally getting to her. “Where do you want me to take this?”
Hesitating, Lucy studied her. “Wallace’s room.”
Nikki’s mind started spinning excuses to back out. She didn’t want to see Wallace. Even if he was sound asleep and didn’t know she was there. It would depress her. Probably make her feel even guiltier for not helping Matt more. “Fine.” She’d hand over the basket at the door. “Lead and I’ll follow.”
Lucy nodded, then held on to the railing as she slowly climbed the stairs. She had to be over seventy, and according to Matt, had known the Gundersons forever. There were no secrets hidden from her. She’d seen Wallace at his worst, breaking family heirlooms in drunken rages and verbally abusing Matt and his mother. But Lucy had stayed loyal long after Matt’s mom died, cleaning up after Wallace, making sure he had home-cooked meals and never gossiping behind his back. Matt didn’t understand it. He thought the woman was a saint.
Nikki had a different take. To her, the women in Wallace’s life, including her own mother, had been spineless fools. Not Barbara McAllister...she’d had the good sense to stay away from Wallace. And still she’d been dragged through the mud that awful February day when the bastard had gotten toasted and called her a whore in front of her sons.
The same day it had finally struck Nikki that she’d been unfair to Matt. Yes, she’d suffered from abandonment issues, but she’d been too self-centered to see that Matt’s childhood had been worse. He’d had to live under Wallace’s thumb. Four months later she clearly hadn’t made much headway. And that wouldn’t change at this particular moment. But for her brother’s sake she was trying.
She stopped outside Wallace’s door and handed the basket over to Lucy. “I’ll let you take it from here.”
The woman’s lined face remained expressionless, though her eyes slowly filled with disappointment. “You should see him. Just for a couple minutes. He doesn’t talk much, only stares at the wall when he isn’t asleep.”
“Another time.”
“Wait.”
Nikki had already turned away. She didn’t want to have this conversation, and she sure didn’t want to feel crappy for sticking to her principles. Seeing Wallace wouldn’t help Matt. “Look, I know you mean well. And I appreciate all you do for us.” She sighed, searching for the right words. “Wallace has never been a father to me. I don’t feel anything for him, and I sure don’t owe him.”
“You’re right,” Lucy said. “The man’s lived here his whole life, yet you don’t see folks lining up outside the door for a visit. He’s got a foul temper even when he’s not drinking. Truth be told, Wallace is getting exactly what he deserves. It’s you and Matthew I worry about. Regret can follow a person around like a dark cloud.”
“So I’ve been told.” She left out “too many times.” “That won’t be an issue for me. I promise.”
“You claim you don’t feel anything for him, but you do.” A sad smile touched the woman’s thin lips. “You hate him. I see it in your eyes, and I can’t say that I blame you. Trouble is, hate can fog a person’s thinking.”
Nikki silently watched her reach for the doorknob. “Can I ask you
something?” she said before Lucy opened the door.
“I’m listening.”
“Why stick around? After Catherine died, it was only Wallace. And you continued to clean up after him, cook, bring groceries. I don’t get it.”
“No reason you should.” Her gaze narrowed and her mouth tightened. “My family has owed the Gundersons for a long spell. And that’s all I’ll say on the subject.” Then she went through the door to Wallace’s room, closing it behind her.
Much as Nikki was relieved to be off the hook, now she was curious. Matt would’ve told her if he knew anything about Lucy’s family owing the Gundersons. He’d chalked up her loyalty to his mother’s talent for convincing people to make difficult promises.
Cinnamon-laced Columbian brew scented the air from the foyer into the kitchen. Lucy always added a heaping spoonful of the spice to the dry grounds, and Nikki was totally hooked. A plate of poppy seed muffins sat near the coffeepot. Homemade, naturally, and after sampling one last week, she was a fan. It was way too early to eat, but she grabbed one anyway, and carried it with her mug of coffee to the front windows.
She was hoping to spot Matt working outside. She hadn’t expected to see him in Wallace’s office, looking grim and sitting at the massive old desk. Ledgers and stacks of paper sat on the rawhide couch to his right. Since the door was open she didn’t hesitate to poke her head inside.
“Hey.”
Matt lifted his gaze. “You’re up early.”
“I’m a country girl now.”
“Right.” Despite his smile, he looked tired. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you.”
Something was wrong. She thought of her room with longing, then braced herself and entered the office. “What’s up?”
“First, no need to panic. This isn’t a request, strictly information.” He slowly exhaled. “Wallace is refusing liquids. If you wanna say goodbye, now might be the time.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” she said calmly, tamping down the sudden denial swelling inside her and making her chest ache. She managed to keep her expression blank. “Anything else?”
Matt shook his head. His eyes searched her face, probably looking for a sign she was human, before lowering to her hand.
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