You're Still the One. Debbi Rawlins
the back door of the extended cab to get their bags.
He noticed her gaze stray toward the house, but she didn’t make a move to get out. He’d turned on a foyer lamp but he should’ve flipped on a couple more. The place was big, two and a half stories, with lots of natural stone and wood, and looking eerie in the dusky twilight. It was a well-built home constructed in the 1920s after the original log cabin burned to the ground.
“What did he say about you being here?” she asked, pushing the door open all the way.
“He’s asleep.” He paused. “Maybe drunk.” Matt yanked out the small duffel he’d brought, annoyed at himself for pussyfooting around the truth. But unlike his mother, he wasn’t trying to protect Wallace. Matt sighed. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t know…. “He is drunk. Doubt he’ll be waking up anytime soon.”
She stared at the house, still gripping the door handle. “We can’t just go in there.”
“Yeah, we can. It’s my house, too.” He almost added it was equally hers, but she didn’t like hearing anything to do with the Trust or her being a Gunderson. “We’ll get you settled in the guest room, then put something together for dinner. We’ll have the kitchen to ourselves.” He saw how thrilled she was with that idea. “Or go eat at the diner in town. Up to you.”
She quietly closed her door and reached around him for the bag of bread, cold cuts and cheese they’d bought at the Food Mart. “I’m not hungry, but I vote we go out.”
“Okay.” He grabbed her bag with his other hand and used his elbow to close the truck door. “After we eat I have to make a stop. Another ranch not too far from here called the Sundance.”
“Tonight?”
They walked side by side toward the porch. “Yeah, I probably should.” No need to point out they could be headed back to Texas come morning. He didn’t think so, though the possibility existed. But he couldn’t leave without seeing Barbara McAllister. He owed her a debt, and he aimed to pay it.
“I SHOULD WAIT IN THE TRUCK,” Nikki murmured as they walked toward the McAllister house, all lit up as if there might be a party inside.
“You’ll like them. You won’t meet nicer people.” He bumped her shoulder. “Three brothers, all good-looking guys.”
“Bet they’re flattered you noticed.”
Matt shook his head, sliding her an irritated look. Truthfully he was glad she’d relaxed enough to joke around. Meeting genuine folks like the McAllisters would help make her more comfortable and give her a better feeling for Blackfoot Falls. He’d mentioned that it would be safe to tell them she was his sister, but she wasn’t ready and insisted that she be introduced as a friend.
They got to the porch and he looked over at her. “How you doing, sis? You okay?”
She wasn’t shy or timid, but she always blushed a little when he called her sis. Tossing her hair back, she eyed the big glass window. “You country people have some weird customs. Someone shows up at my door without calling, I don’t answer.”
“Uh, yeah, I know.”
“And yet you’ve learned nothing.”
Ignoring her sigh, he got a good look inside as they mounted the steps. Not that he’d admit it, but he suddenly had second thoughts about the surprise visit. There were a lot of people moving around the living room, mostly young women. Just his luck Mrs. McAllister was having a Tupperware party or some damn thing like that.
“We can still turn around,” Nikki whispered.
“Nah.” He knocked on the door, waited, heard the music and laughter inside, and tried again, only louder.
“Still think this is a good time?”
He stepped back. “Maybe not.”
The door opened. A blonde he didn’t know smiled at them. She had a drink in one hand, and waved them inside with the other. “Come in.”
He looked past her, hoping to see Cole or Trace, anyone he recognized. At least half a dozen women were sitting in the living room sipping drinks near the fireplace, and several more stood toward the back. They were all dressed up, some of them wearing fancy sweaters, high-heeled city boots and skintight pants. Like they were vacationing at one of those pricey ski lodges. Nobody looked familiar.
His gaze caught on a nice ass in a pair of worn jeans, small waist…
He blinked hard at the loose auburn curls that skimmed her shoulders. Only one woman he knew had hair that deep sexy reddish-brown shade.
She turned around. Her gaze connected with his and her green eyes widened. The smile slipped from her pink lips. She looked exactly how he felt. Stunned. “Matt?”
“Rachel?” he said at the same time. “What are you doing here?”
“Me?” She handed her drink to the blonde still standing at the door. “I live here,” Rachel said with a strained laugh as she wiped her palms down her jeans. “Come on in.”
Man, he hadn’t expected this. But he really had no choice but to stay. Best he could do was keep it short. Turning around now would make him look like a damn fool.
His feet couldn’t seem to move. “Hey, I can come back tomorrow. Obviously you’re having a party. I should’ve called.”
Behind him Nikki snorted.
Rachel smiled at her. “Get in here, Matthew Gunderson, so I can close the door, and you can make an introduction.”
Sighing, he stomped his boots on the mat, shaking off loose gravel and dried mud, then tried to let Nikki go first but she gave her head a small shake.
“It’s so nice to see you, Matt,” Rachel said as soon as he and Nikki stepped inside. After hesitating a moment, Rachel gave him a hug.
His arms automatically came up around her, and he prayed she couldn’t feel his heart pounding against his chest. The embrace was brief, somewhat awkward, as if it was fulfilling an obligation and not something she wanted to do.
Maybe it was his fault. He might’ve held her a little too tight. Exhaling slowly, he moved farther back, hoping to erase any wrong signal on his part.
“I’m Rachel,” she said to Nikki, who then introduced herself, since Matt’s dry mouth couldn’t seem to work. “And don’t worry, it’s not a party, not really,” Rachel said, talking fast, her pitch higher than he remembered. “Let’s go find my brothers. Would you like a drink?”
Nikki looked to him for an answer, the question in her eyes plain. Staying or leaving? Finally she said, “I’ll take a beer if you have one.”
“We do, in addition to wine, margaritas and a weird punch my brother concocted—” Rachel caught him staring at her. She blinked, glanced away, then returned her gaze to him, a stubborn glint in her eyes he knew well. “What?”
“Your hair.” He chuckled. “It’s purple—”
“Oh.” Her hand shot up to touch her head, and she blushed.
“God, Matt.” Nikki glared at him. “It’s the style.”
“I know. But Rachel’s not the type to…” Hell, what did he know? Apparently nothing, judging by the way both women stared at him. Nikki’s brown eyes told him he was a jerk for having laughed. Rachel didn’t seem embarrassed anymore, but somewhat amused.
“Let’s go get your drinks,” Rachel said, giving her hair a toss as if to say, “yeah, it’s purple, so what?” and then leading them in the direction of the dining room.
That was something else he remembered about her. Whenever she got embarrassed or tongue-tied she recovered quickly. He’d envied her that neat trick. Not him. Once he got bucked outta the saddle, he had a heck of a time thinking on his feet.