From This Moment On - By Debbi Rawlins Page 0,42

were doing all this work to feed people after Wallace’s funeral tomorrow. Plus they were dirtying their own kitchen. All because Lucy insisted on a proper church service and burial.

Matt hadn’t argued with her, though Nikki doubted he cared one way or the other. She’d stayed completely neutral. What mattered most to her was that this whole thing be over and done with. Let everyone get back to normal. Including her. Last night Sadie had refused to let her work again. It had really pissed Nikki off. She’d already done her dutiful best the night Wallace died.

So what she’d remained in the corner praying for a shot of tequila until Wallace’s body was taken away and everyone left. At least she’d been present, and that was more than anyone should’ve expected. Rachel hadn’t batted an eye, and that was one of the things Nikki liked about Matt’s girlfriend. She was totally nonjudgmental and supportive at the same time. Must be a McAllister trait. Trace was the same way.

Nikki hadn’t seen him since that night.... Actually, it had been after midnight when he left. She’d gone up to her room five minutes later, feeling no less embarrassed than she had when he’d turned down her offer.

God, the humiliation still hadn’t disappeared. If things had gone differently and they’d had sex? Hard to even imagine how she’d be feeling. He’d been right to refuse. She kind of owed him, though she was happy to ignore the incident.

“Will there be booze served at this thing?” she asked.

“Huh. I don’t recall it coming up.” Rachel turned away from the cutting board, making a face and sniffling. “I am so over dicing onions. This has to be enough.”

“No.” Hilda kept stirring the refried beans on the stove, but frowned at the small mound in front of Rachel. “We need at least three more.”

“Seriously?”

Hilda gave her a look that said she was quite serious.

“I’ll do it,” Nikki said. “This is for my fa—” She almost choked on the word. Where had that come from? “For Matt and me,” she muttered, focusing her attention on laying down the knife. “Let’s trade.”

“No, it’s okay.” Rachel gave an exaggerated sniff. “Really.”

Hilda shook her head and went back to humming while she stirred.

Nikki sighed. The onion-dicing job would be better for her. Every now and then, she got a little teary-eyed. She couldn’t explain it, other than a general feeling of sadness. But if the waterworks started, at least she could blame the onions.

“I want to do it, honest.” She tried to elbow Rachel aside.

“No, go call Matt. Ask him if we should offer beer and/or liquor tomorrow.”

“You know him,” Nikki said. “He won’t care.”

“Yeah, maybe we should ask Lucy.”

“She’s not home,” Mrs. McAllister said, carrying in bags of beef and vegetables she’d gone to get from the freezer. “She’s delivering the clothes Wallace is to be buried in.”

Nikki stared down at the potatoes. His death hadn’t completely sunk in yet. His bedroom door remained closed. Every time she went upstairs it was a jolt to realize he wasn’t there.

“Thank you for doing all of this,” she said quietly. “I can’t say I understand...I know how horrible he was to your family.”

“Wallace wasn’t always difficult.” Mrs. McAllister dropped the packages on the counter and patted her arm. “As a young man he could be quite charming. Besides, this really isn’t for him.”

Charming.

The word alone was like an intolerable high-pitched scream to her ears. Nikki’s mother had used the same description. He’d charmed his way right into her bed and made promises he never intended to keep. But then Wallace had made a daughter, too, and hadn’t kept her, either.

Dammit, she’d also made a promise, one she had yet to honor. Why was she finding it so hard to call her mom? Why did her mother even care that he was gone?

She smiled at Mrs. McAllister, who’d moved to the sink. “We’re trying to decide whether to serve booze tomorrow. I can pick some up after I leave here.”

“That’s your call. Some people do, some don’t.” She narrowed her eyes at something outside the window. “What in the world is that woman thinking? That stallion was still rearing not ten minutes ago. Trace doesn’t need to be distracted.”

Nikki and Rachel hurried to the window. He was in the corral with a horse, holding a lead, trying to calm the animal down. A blonde Nikki recognized from the bar had slipped between the railings. Dividing his attention between her and the now