Читать книгу From This Moment On - Debbi Rawlins - Страница 10

SHE’D BEEN SCARED to death. Trace had seen it in Nikki’s flushed face and unfocused eyes, even the way her body had stiffened. What he didn’t know was whether she was afraid of horses in general or this particular mustang. Trace had to admit, the stallion could be a mean-looking son of a bitch. But only because he’d been afraid, just like Nikki.

“You’re feeling better now, aren’t you, boy?” He wiped the powerful flank, lathered with sweat, and used the back of his free arm to blot his own wet forehead.

Stupid not to wear long sleeves. He should’ve known better.

The T-shirt was sticking to his sweaty body, so he pulled it off and used a dry spot to mop his face. He had a spare in his truck that probably ought to be tossed in the rag bin but it would serve the purpose until he got home.

After three hours, the mustang was exhausted, and so was Trace. Diablo was the most fiercely stubborn horse he’d gone up against in a long time. Since the stallion had been purchased only two days earlier, he hadn’t actually been named yet. But Trace figured why not go for the obvious, the Spanish word for devil.

Matt walked out of the barn with a young hand and more bottles of water. Trace had lost track of how many he’d gulped down just in the past hour alone. A drop of sweat trickled into his eye. He squeezed it closed and used the T-shirt to stop the sting. When he could open his eye again he looked toward the house and saw Nikki standing at her window.

She moved back, and he pretended he hadn’t seen her. He wondered if Matt knew about her fear of horses. Trace didn’t think so. If he did, it wouldn’t be like Matt to let his sister come anywhere near an untamed mustang. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been in danger. Seeing the stallion’s wild-eyed look wouldn’t win her over.

And her living on a ranch of all places? Man, no wonder she hightailed it off the Lone Wolf every chance she got. Matt had mentioned he thought her skittishness was about Wallace. Since she obviously hadn’t spoken up about her phobia, Trace wouldn’t say a word, either. Not to Matt, anyway. But he fully intended on having a talk with Nikki. She’d never give the Lone Wolf a shot if she didn’t figure out that a horse was harmless if you treated it right. And Matt really wanted his sister to stay.

Truthfully, Trace wouldn’t mind, either. Hell, if he really wanted to be honest, he’d outright admit he wanted her to stick around. Admit it to himself, anyway. No one else needed to know he was getting a little soft.

Diablo sure knew. Reading Trace’s sudden energy shift like a book, the stallion tossed his head and stamped the ground. Rotten timing. Matt and the hand had just reached them, and the poor kid looked as if he might pee his jeans.

“He’s okay,” Trace said, stroking the mustang’s neck. “It was me. I got him a little jumpy. I’ll take him back to the stable and give him a good brushing. All will be forgiven.”

“No, you won’t,” Matt said. “You’ve worked hard enough. Lester is gonna take him.” Matt passed Trace a water. “I got beer inside if you want.”

Holding on to the lead, Trace eyed the young man. “You’re Morgan’s boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. I’m the oldest.”

“I thought you were still in high school.”

“Graduated last month.”

“Sorry,” Matt said. “I figured you guys knew each other. Things have changed in the ten years since I moved away.”

“Not so much.” Trace held out the lead, which Lester seemed reluctant to take. “I doubt he’ll give you trouble. Just stay calm, keep your voice low.” Trace let go once he saw the boy had him. To Matt, he said, “By the way, I think this one needs to be called Diablo.”

Lester groaned. “Great.”

Matt and Trace both laughed.

Trace clapped the kid on the shoulder as he turned slowly toward the stable. “Son, I wouldn’t let you take him if I thought he’d be too rowdy for you.” He watched Lester and Diablo move toward the stable, then caught Matt staring at him. “What?”

“Son?” Matt chuckled. “He’s what…seventeen? You’ve got only ten years on that kid.”

“You have been away too long. Hell, I call Jesse son and he’s five years older than me.” Trace downed more water but kept his gaze on the boy and the mustang. He wasn’t necessarily worried, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. If he had to make a dash, he was ready. “You remember Lester’s father, right?”

“You said Morgan?” Matt frowned, shaking his head. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been so busy with Wallace and straightening out payroll, I don’t even know all the men who live in the bunkhouse, much less the day hands. Duke is still the foreman. He’s been running things.”

“Morgan Dunn was a year ahead of Cole in school. He stepped in as quarterback at the last minute and took us to finals.”

Matt swung a stunned look at Lester’s retreating back. “That Morgan? He has a son that age?”

“He knocked up his girlfriend senior year. They’re still married and running her dad’s ranch. It’s a small operation but they haven’t gone under and that’s something.” Trace rolled his left shoulder. It was getting stiff again and he was tired of the sun beating down on him. He often worked without a shirt when he was mending fences but not at this time of day. He started for the gate, and Matt walked along with him.

“Man, do I feel old.”

“You are old.”

“Thanks.” Matt snorted. “Tell your sister she’d better hurry and marry me while I can still get it up.”

“Nah, she’s gotta wait for Cole to tie the knot with Jamie, then Jesse has to marry Shea. It’s a McAllister tradition. Oldest to youngest. Everyone’s gotta wait their turn.”

Matt stopped and gave him a panicked look.

Trace laughed, scooped up the mug he’d left on the railing and looked at Matt. His expression hadn’t changed. “Tell me you aren’t that damn gullible.”

“You’re older than Rachel,” Matt said with a straight face. “That’s gonna be a long wait. Who the hell would marry you?”

Trace automatically glanced up at Nikki’s window. He didn’t know why. She wasn’t there, but that didn’t matter. That he’d looked was stupid.

Matt started them walking again. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“What?”

Matt just smiled, then nodded at the T-shirt Trace had balled in his hand. “I owe you a shirt.”

“I’m not messing around with your sister.” Trace kept his eyes on the ground. He’d never been more confused over a woman in his life. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t seem to get her out of his head. Staying away from the Watering Hole hadn’t helped. The only thing he knew for sure was that if he made a move, he’d better be serious about her. Matt was a friend and soon he’d be family. “I know better.”

“Hey, not my business. Nikki’s a big girl, and she knows her own mind. If she doesn’t want you messing with her, she won’t be shy about letting you know.” Matt grinned. “If I need to worry, it should be about you. Cross her and she’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” Trace laughed, because that’s what Matt expected, but he wondered if Matt really believed his own words. Nikki might not be as tough as he thought.

But then Trace was starting to get the feeling she was a little mixed up about how tough she was, too. It wasn’t just about her being afraid of horses. She’d told him about the gang violence in her old neighborhood, so he understood she’d needed to come off hard as nails. That didn’t mean she hadn’t been scared a time or two. She liked to pretend nothing bothered her. But he’d seen her feeling defenseless and uncertain, and trying her damnedest to hide it.

Maybe that tug-of-war between vulnerability and bravery had gotten to him, because something sure was preventing him from keeping his distance. He wasn’t the kind of guy who needed to ride to the rescue, either. Still, for her to live on a ranch and fear horses? That was unnecessary grief. Maybe he could help her with that.

They were approaching the house. Trace’s truck was parked over on the right. “You want to come in for that beer?” Matt asked. “I just need to check on Wallace first.”

“No, I got a lot to do at the Sundance yet. I’m just gonna give this mug to Nikki.”

“I can take it…” Matt’s voice trailed off. “Sure, come on in.”

“I’m too grimy. Mind asking her to meet me at the door?”

“Just wipe your boots so Lucy won’t take a broom to both of us, but otherwise you’re fine to come inside.” Matt opened the door while scraping off his own boots. “I’ll call her. She’s probably in her room.” He stuck out his hand and they shook. “Thanks. I appreciate what you did with Diablo.”

“Anytime.” Trace looked around. “It was good seeing how well kept the place is.”

A loud kitchen noise had Matt frowning over his shoulder. “I’ll go get her. See you soon, huh?”

Trace nodded, waited until Matt left and then used the rest of the water and his T-shirt to wipe his face and upper body. He figured he had time to run to his truck for the other shirt, but he’d taken only one step off the porch when he heard Nikki.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice at a nervous pitch.

“Sure.” He turned to her. “Just fine,” he said, smiling. But she didn’t see because her gaze was aimed at his bare chest. “Sorry. I was just about to get a clean shirt out of my truck.”

“Huh?” Her eyes slowly lifted to meet his. “Oh, no problem. Matt said you wanted to see me?”

Trace had to quietly clear his throat. No mistaking the look on her face. She liked what she saw. “I wanted to give you this.” He stepped back up onto the porch, holding out the mug.

“Oh.” She took it from him. “Did you want more coffee?”

“No, but I’d like you to come for a short walk with me.”

“Where?”

“To the stable.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

“You don’t have to get close to the horses.” Trace made sure his hand was clean, then held it out to her. He’d been sensitive about the calluses earlier but he got it. Nikki had only seen him as goodwill ambassador to the guests. Maybe it was time for her to see that he worked on the ranch just like any other man. She might not like it but he was a cowboy.

She stared at his palm, then up at him. “You didn’t answer me.”

“I want to show off Diablo. He’s much better behaved now.”

She let out a laugh. “Diablo?”

Trace smiled. “I don’t know what Matt’s going to call him. Until an hour ago the name seemed appropriate. Are you gonna leave me standing here with my hand out?”

Sighing, her gaze slid to his outstretched palm, then to his chest.

“Don’t worry. I’ll put a shirt on first.”

“I’m not worried about that.” She clutched the mug so tightly he hoped she didn’t break it.

Maybe he was wrong to push her. Maybe he needed to let her take more time to get used to the Lone Wolf. He withdrew his hand and stuffed it in his front pocket. “That’s okay, Nikki,” he said, stepping back. “I should get going, anyway.”

“Are all the horses in their stalls?” she asked in a rush.

“They are.” He paused, knowing he had no business making that assumption. Lester could’ve brought one out to groom. “I’ll make sure they are before you go inside.”

She studied his face, as if trying to decide if she should trust him. “Let me get rid of this,” she said, waving the mug. “Want me to take that water bottle, too?”

“Thanks.” He passed it to her. “Seems you’re always waiting on me. We ever get over to Kalispell, I’ll have to buy you dinner.”

Her lips parted and she darted another look at his chest.

For a second he got excited that she might be interested in going on that drive, then just as quickly regretted mentioning Kalispell again so soon. Though she didn’t tell him to get lost, just went back into the house with the mug and bottle, even left the door open a little so that was a good sign she’d come back.

Skipping the steps, he jumped off the porch and hurried to his truck. If he remembered correctly, the white T-shirt had a small stain and the hem was frayed but it would do. He found it wadded up on the backseat, shook it out and sniffed the armpit area just to be sure. Yeah, it was clean enough.

He pulled the shirt over his head, stuck his arms in the sleeves, tugged down the hem and heard the seam tear. He looked down. It wasn’t just the seam but a large hole in the front. “Well, shit.”

Muffled laughter brought his head up. Watching him from the porch, Nikki tilted her head to the side. “I hadn’t seen that style yet. It’s a good look for you.”

“Hell, I don’t care. I’d wear it like this if I were headed home.”

She shrugged. “Wear it now. I don’t care, either.” She frowned slightly. “Or go without a shirt,” she said, and averted her eyes.

He hid his smile by yanking the T-shirt off. She could shrug and toss her hair as though she was indifferent all she wanted. Right now she was so easy to read it almost felt as if he was cheating. “I bet Matt would lend me one.”

She turned so sharply to him, her ponytail whipped to the side. “Can we just go and get this over with?”

“We can.” He got rid of the shirt and closed the truck door. “Try not to be jumpy. Animals can sense your mood.”

“Well, great because—” She shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans and stared down at her track shoes. “You know, don’t you?”

They started to walk. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, his gaze snagging on her slender neck.

“That I’m afraid.”

“I suspected. Is it only horses?”

She kept her head down. “Bulls. I hate bulls, too. I saw Matt ride once…Never again. I wish he’d quit the circuit and stay here.”

“That’s the plan, isn’t it?”

“No, I mean, quit right now. He’s scheduled for five or six more events this year.”

“I’m pretty sure Rachel feels like you do. Bull riding can be a dangerous—” Trace cut himself off. It was too late. He saw her shoulders tense. What the hell was wrong with him? “Matt is good. And he’s careful. He’s got you and Rachel in his life now. He’ll finish his career in one piece.”

“I hope so,” she murmured, hunching her shoulders forward and sounding small and fretful.

Trace slipped his hand around her nape. She shot him a startled look, but he just smiled, left his hand right there and massaged her tense muscles as they continued to walk.

She moved a little closer to him, which kicked his heart rate up. He kept kneading and rubbing her soft warm skin and by the time they reached the stable, she’d started to relax. They hadn’t made it inside yet when one of the horses whickered and she went stiff again. She stopped, probably would’ve jerked away if he hadn’t been caressing the back of her neck. The pulse below her jaw beat wildly.

“Wait right here, okay?” Trace moved his hand to her chin and urged her to look up at him. “I’m going to make sure Lester is done brushing Diablo.”

“Who?”

“He’s a kid who works here.”

She stayed motionless, only her eyes moved to sweep a gaze inside the dim stable.

Trace didn’t want to let go. He’d give just about anything to let his fingers trail down to her collarbone, slip beneath the scooped neckline. Just a little…he only wanted to feel more skin. Hell, he wanted more than that, but for now, what he cared about most was for her not to be afraid.

“Nikki?” He waited for her to look at him. Her eyes were black and filled with so much fear it sliced into his confidence. Maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do. He was good with horses. Everyone assumed he was good with women. And mostly he was…flirting was easy. But he’d never been tested when it really counted. “Can you trust me? I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She stared into his eyes and moistened her lips. Taking in a deep breath, she lifted her hand, and he expected her to push him away. She held on to his wrist. “No offense. I don’t trust anyone.”

Trace smiled. That wasn’t entirely true but if that’s what she wanted to believe…

Her grip on his wrist tightened. “Does Matt know?”

“Not from me.”

“Whatever happens in there, don’t tell him.”

Now he knew he’d screwed up. Lester was inside. The kid might talk. “I won’t say a word. Will you wait here? I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, her gaze still locked with his, and he wanted to kiss her. Right here, where the sunlight glistened off those soft full lips and glowed from her golden skin. Fear slowly faded from her eyes replaced by something that looked suspiciously like it could be trust. Whatever it was it stopped his foolish thoughts and he let her go before his good sense ended up in the dust.

NIKKI WATCHED TRACE disappear into the cavernous stable. Along with him went her short-lived confidence. That she couldn’t fully appreciate the breadth of his shoulders or the muscular definition of his back told her how out of control her fear had grown. Back at the porch when she couldn’t smell and hear the animals, she’d been real clear that she wanted him with his shirt off. Now all she could think about was whether or not to run.

He wouldn’t force her to get too close to the horses, and even if he tried she’d refuse. But what if being in a stable made everything worse? Oh, she really did believe Trace wouldn’t let any harm come to her, but she also believed that the horses could sense she was terrified. If facing her terror head-on didn’t work, it would be murder living on the Lone Wolf. Maybe she could find an apartment in town. Sadie would know…

From deep inside the stable someone was walking toward her. Not Trace, but a shorter, huskier guy. He was young, she saw when he stepped out of the shadows, his hair lighter. Had to be the guy Trace mentioned. Already she’d forgotten his name.

“Hi,” he said as he got closer, eyeing her with curiosity.

“Hey.” She hugged herself, doing her share of sizing him up as he passed, checking for signs of evil-horse attack.

She casually angled to her left to inspect him from the back. His clothes weren’t torn and there was no blood. He wasn’t limping. All good to know.

“Nikki?”

She must’ve jumped three feet in the air before she spun toward Trace. “God, scare the hell out of me, why don’t you?”

He raised both hands, palms out. “Sorry.”

Okay, for the moment she could appreciate his chest. It was mostly smooth, just a faint dusting of hair between his brown nipples.

“You ready?”

“I guess.” She sucked in as much air as she could manage and wiped her damp palms down the front of her jeans.

“Good. Keep taking deep breaths.”

“If I tell you I have to leave then I’m leaving. Period.”

“Got it.”

“It does not mean I’m opening the subject for negotiation.”

“Glad you cleared that up.”

She swung a look at him. “I’m serious.”

“Me, too. You women seem to think everything requires a discussion.”

Nikki gaped at him, then noticed they’d advanced several feet inside. Bales of hay were stacked in the corner. On a railing three saddles sat in a row. The scent of leather and weirdly, soap, was strong. “Are you purposely being an ass to distract me?”

“Think about it. You ask a guy if he wants to stop for a drink, and he says yes or no. A man asks a woman the same question and what does he get?—‘Oh, I don’t know, isn’t it too late? What do you think?’” He’d raised his pitch to mimic a feminine voice and Nikki almost laughed.

“That’s not true,” she said. “And it’s sexist.”

He finger-combed back his dark hair, and frowned as if giving the matter serious thought. “You’re probably right about it being sexist, but I swear to God it’s true.”

“Really? Ask me again about going to Kalispell and see what I have to say.”

Trace grinned and caught her hand. “I wish we were at the Sundance. Then I’d know all the horses’ names.”

She slowly looked to her left. They were standing in front of the first stall, but she didn’t remember walking this far in.

The horse looked at her with its ears pricked forward.

Nikki moved closer to Trace. “Is it male or female?”

“She’s a mare. You might hear someone refer to her as a roan. That’s for the color. The paint over there might be referred to as a pinto.”

“I won’t touch her,” Nikki said, watching the mare’s nose strain over the stall door. “Any of them.”

“I wouldn’t let you. I don’t know these horses. We’re just having a look.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him as they kept walking.

Despite the fact that he’d been working in the sun and sweating, he smelled nice. Very masculine. Very different. Whatever combination made up his scent it was a turn-on. She almost forgot they were surrounded by horses. For a second she considered sliding her arm around his waist but didn’t. It would be crazy to let this turn into something else. This was perfect. She had an excuse for the clammy palms and racing heart. No need for Trace to know he was partly responsible. The fiery tingle low in her belly was all him.

He rubbed her arm. “Maybe some day when you’re at the Sundance helping Rachel and Jamie I’ll take you to our stable.”

“You’re never there when I am.” She bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t admitted she’d noticed his absence.

“I figured you were trying to avoid me.”

“I only go over to cover for Rachel when she’s busy with Matt or if Jamie calls.”

“Ah. I won’t take it personally then.”

She didn’t have to look to know he was grinning. She much preferred keeping her eye on the stalls as they walked by. A horse at the back made an angry sound. “Gee, don’t tell me…that’s Diablo.”

“He’s still getting used to being penned in.”

“Maybe we should turn around.”

“You’ve trusted me this far. Give me five minutes. You can stand as far back as you want.”

“The next county?” She sighed. “Five minutes.” Neither of them wore a watch. So what? She’d know when it was time to make a run for it.

They got to the last stall, and Trace took his arm from around her shoulders. She moved back as he stood at the stall and stroked the horse’s neck.

“Mustangs have a reputation for being harder to tame and train than other breeds. They’re innately suspicious of humans.”

“So he was wild when Matt bought him?”

“Someone else had him for a short while, but they couldn’t handle him.”

It had taken Trace about three hours. She’d watched him from her window, awed by his patience, never speaking above a whisper. The horse had responded fairly quickly all things considered.

“See this black hair rimming his ear? We call them black points.” Trace stayed focused on the stallion, murmuring things she couldn’t hear. She was beginning to think he’d forgotten about her when he said, “I have a proposition for you, Nikki.”

“What’s that?” she asked, suspicious when his gaze remained on the horse.

“Let me teach you to ride.”

“Diablo?”

“No.” The corners of his mouth quirked, but he kept the smile in check. “I have a Sundance mare in mind.”

She didn’t care if it was a pony. “Why? What’s the point?”

“You live on a ranch. It’ll be easier when you see you have nothing to fear.”

“I’ve been doing just fine by staying in my own corner.”

“You’re also missing out. Horses are terrific animals.” Trace met her eyes. “Come on, Nikki, give me a shot.”

Breathing in deeply, she turned her gaze to the stallion, and watched Trace stroke its velvety neck. “Okay,” she said, the word nearly sticking in her throat. She hated feeling afraid…of anything.