From This Moment On. Debbi Rawlins

guy from the Lone Wolf didn’t say a word, just sipped his beer. Trace didn’t know his name but nodded to him, and he gave him a friendly nod back. Matt Gunderson had returned to run the ranch since his father had been confined to bed, and Trace wondered if Matt had sent the man to keep an eye on his sister. Probably not. Nikki would catch on and be mad. Then again, it wasn’t likely she’d recognize one of the hands.

      Although she’d been living at the Lone Wolf since her return, according to Matt she wanted nothing to do with the place. Or their father, for which no one in town would fault her. Wallace Gunderson was a despicable human being. But as his illegitimate daughter she was a Gunderson by blood, if not in name, and entitled to half the large ranching operation upon Wallace’s death. Which apparently was fast approaching.

      Trace chanced a look and saw that she’d slipped behind the bar to fill mugs of beer while Sadie was busy pouring shots. Almost as if she sensed he was watching, Nikki swung a look at him. Neither of them broke eye contact right away, but then she had to stop the mugs from overflowing.

      She did a good job of acting indifferent toward him, but it was mostly pretense. He might’ve thought it was his ego overriding his brain but his sister had confirmed Nikki had a soft spot for him. Though Rachel hadn’t meant to give him hope. In truth, she’d been warning him that if he played fast and loose with her boyfriend’s sister, she’d wring his neck.

      He supposed she had some cause for concern. He’d always been lucky with women, and a number of them considered him a big flirt, but usually because they flirted back or initiated the dance. And Rachel sure hadn’t been shy about exploiting his so-called easy charm to help her keep the guests happy.

      But with Nikki he’d been careful from the moment he’d met her in February. At first because she was Matt’s sister, and then because Trace had seen the cracks in her cool facade. They’d sat right here in the Watering Hole after a drunken idiot had accosted her outside. Matt had arrived in time to stop the guy, but the idiot’s friend had joined the party and Matt ended up with bruised ribs, a swollen face and lucky to still have teeth.

      Nikki had been quick to accept the blame for her brother’s beatdown. So quick, it had stunned Trace. She’d been a victim as much as Matt, but all she’d been able to see was that she’d brought him trouble and that was all she’d ever do. She hadn’t come out and said it like that, but in those few unguarded moments, Trace had listened well. And he’d learned three things about her that night: she was fiercely loyal to people she cared about, didn’t trust easily and liked to keep her emotions tightly wrapped.

      He knew she’d had a rough life growing up in Houston. Being raised by a single mother who’d worked two jobs to support them wasn’t a tragedy in itself, but Nikki had hinted that as a teenager she’d gotten into some trouble in her ganginfested neighborhood. She hadn’t elaborated, and it was pretty clear she’d regretted being so open.

      Other than that night when he’d looked after her while Matt got patched up, Trace hadn’t spent any time alone with her. She’d come to Blackfoot Falls because her brother had wanted her to meet Wallace and get closure before he died. Matt also hoped she would like Montana and move to the Lone Wolf. They’d stayed two weeks and then Matt had to return to the rodeo circuit and Nikki to her waitressing job in Houston.

      And in those three months they were gone, Trace had thought about her every single day. He’d never been that dogged over a woman before. His last new truck, yeah, and technically it hadn’t been new. But he’d thought about that honey every day for over five months before he had enough cash to bring the Ram home with him.

      “Hey.”

      Trace snapped out of his preoccupation the same time Nikki touched him. He looked at her small hand resting on his forearm, at the neatly trimmed nails that had a light sheen but no color. Then he looked into her pretty brown eyes that had seen too much. They got to him every time.

      “You were daydreaming.” She drew back her hand. “If you had knocked this tray over I would’ve strangled you. Here.”

      He took the bottle from her. “Thanks.”

      “Don’t thank me.” She motioned with her chin. “Thank your friend sitting near the jukebox. The beer’s from her.”

      His stomach turned. “Karina?”

      “Yep.”

      “I don’t want anyone buying my beer. Tell her I said thanks anyway.”

      “Tell her yourself.” A small smile tugging at her lips, Nikki turned to pass a mug to Josh.

      “I’m serious. Add this to my tab and then I’m cashing out.”

      “You’re leaving?” Disappointment flickered in her eyes, and then she blinked and it was gone. “I can give you a total now,” she said, all business. “You’ve had, what…two beers?”

      “This one makes three.” He waited for her to meet his gaze but she was being stubborn. He really didn’t want to leave yet, and if she gave him the slightest indication she’d like him to stay, he’d wait for her to get off work. But no, she seemed determined to treat him like he was any other customer. Which he supposed he was, but sure didn’t like it.

      He set the bottle down and dug in his pocket. For over a week he’d had the same thing every night so he knew his tab came to $9.75. He pulled out two bills and laid them on her tray. “Keep the change.”

      “Isn’t Karina a guest at the Sundance? You really want to turn her down?”

      “Yeah, I do.” He wasn’t about to let that bronc out of the chute. Bad enough he had to socialize with the women crawling all over the Sundance. He didn’t need to owe any of them.

      “It’s just a drink, Trace.”

      He smiled. No, it wasn’t, not with these women. “Your next day off, how about you and me take a drive to Kalispell?”

      “Why?” She glanced around, but no one had heard. He’d made sure he kept his voice low, and Sam was busy racking balls for the next game. “Isn’t that forty-five minutes away?”

      “You haven’t been, right? It’s nice. Lots of restaurants, bars, department stores, movie theaters. I think there might even be a bowling alley.”

      “So…you’re asking me to go because…?”

      “I don’t know.” Man, she didn’t make it easy. “I have business there, anyway,” he said, lying through his teeth. “I thought you’d like to check out what’s available…stuff we don’t have in Blackfoot Falls.”

      “I appreciate the thought.” She picked up two empty mugs off the shelf that ran along the wall. “But I have a bunch of things to do when I have time off.” Now she was lying. She wasn’t any better at it than him.

      “Okay.” He saw Sam eyeing them, curiosity coming off him like steam. “If you change your mind let me know.” Trace grabbed his Stetson off the peg and returned his nearly full beer to her tray. “And don’t worry, Nikki. It’s just a drive.”

       2

      NIKKI FLORES WATCHED one of the blondes who’d been sitting at the end of the old mahogany bar run for the door that had barely closed behind Trace. Another woman had stopped him before he’d even made it that far. Whatever she’d said had him shaking his head, but he’d flashed her that movie star smile of his, the kind that had silly women forgiving and forgetting when they should be slamming doors shut.

      “You gonna sulk the rest of the night because he went home early?” Sadie set a pitcher of beer on Nikki’s tray.

      “Me?” She rolled her eyes. “No, but his fan club might. If we’re lucky they’ll drown their disappointment in expensive cocktails. I say we raise the price of those stupid appletinis.”

      Sadie chuckled, sounding much better without the rusty wheeze she’d had a few months earlier when Nikki