You're Still the One. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
passed on the same instructions to her. Rachel bit back a smile when the older woman gave Jamie a who-died-and-made-you-queen look that she completely ignored.
Jamie settled the tab while Rachel said her goodbyes. They stepped outside under the glaring afternoon sun, looked at each other and burst out laughing. The blue streak woven through Jamie’s pretty tawny-colored hair was almost neon and wider than she’d had in mind.
“Purple suits you,” Jamie said between snorts of laughter.
Rachel touched her hair. “I wanted out of there so badly I forgot to check it out.”
“Don’t you worry—it’s very you.” Jamie started giggling again.
“Gee, thanks for the endorsement. Do me a favor…make sure I’m there when Cole sees your hair.”
She sniffed. “He’ll love it.”
“Yeah, right.” Rachel glanced down Main Street. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
“Would he still be in town?”
She swung her attention back to Jamie. “Cole?”
“No,” Jamie said. “Uh-uh, don’t you dare play dumb with me. Not after I had to sit there and keep my mouth shut for two hours.” She checked for traffic, then tugged Rachel into the street. “Come on. You can tell me all about Matt at the Watering Hole.”
“Keep your voice down.” There wasn’t a soul within earshot, but still…“I wish there was something to tell. But there isn’t.” On the next block she saw a silver truck she didn’t recognize but then an older man opened the driver’s door. “And please, your mouth was barely shut for ten minutes.”
Jamie slid her a look of amusement. “I ought to get you drunk. Then let’s see what comes through the floodgates.”
“Nope. Won’t happen.” It suddenly occurred to her this would be a crummy time to see him. Too many people around. Though surely he was gone by now.
A few barbs later they made it to the Watering Hole. Jamie muttered a mild curse when she couldn’t open the door. “I can’t believe it’s closed.”
“Try again. Sometimes it sticks.” Rachel cast a final look down Main.
And held her breath when she saw him.
Matt was across the street at the other end of the block, coming out of the Food Mart. His hair looked darker and longer, still a light brown but without the sun streaks she’d always envied. He seemed taller, too, but that was probably her imagination.
“Is that him?” Jamie had won her battle with the door, and she stood there with it partially open, darting looks between Rachel and Matt.
“Yes.” Rachel’s voice came out a squeak and she cleared her throat as she watched him approach a black truck, a popular color around Blackfoot Falls. “It is.”
“Wow. He looks yummy. Go say hi.”
“No. I mean, I will.” Dammit, her voice still sounded funny. “But not now.”
Sadie, the owner, yelled from inside the bar for them to shut the door and quit letting out the heat. Jamie pulled it closed.
“We can’t stay out here.” Feeling jittery again, Rachel turned away from Matt and motioned for Jamie to get moving. “Go.”
She wouldn’t budge, only frowned in Matt’s direction. “Who’s that?”
Rachel couldn’t resist, and saw a slender woman with long black hair come from behind Matt. He held the passenger door open for her, then helped her up into the cab.
“Do you know who she is?” Jamie murmured.
“No.” Rachel swallowed. It was perfectly reasonable to assume Matt had taken the big step. He’d always struck her as the marrying kind. Except in her foolish young mind it had been her standing at the altar with him. “Okay, let’s get me drunk.”
MATT SLIPPED ON his sunglasses and drove down Main Street like a horse wearing blinders. He looked straight ahead, glad Nikki didn’t feel the need to talk. Three years ago when he’d come to see his mother, he’d stayed away from town. He liked most of the people who lived in Blackfoot Falls just fine. But all the questions…Christ, they drove him nuts.
Mostly their interest was aimed at his rodeo career. He’d done well in the past six years, won titles and buckles, banked a small fortune in prize money, and the attention came with the territory. Early on he’d promised himself he’d never let his head get too big for his hat. A couple of veteran bronc riders on the circuit had been prime examples of how having a few extra bucks in your pocket could change a man. Turn him into someone he’d end up despising down the road.
Like Wallace. Except his father had always been miserable and cantankerous as far back as Matt could recall, and not just with him. Wallace’s bad temper had extended to his wife, Matt’s mother, and that he’d found intolerable. But she’d refused to leave the bastard, which Matt had never understood, and never would.
And now the miserable buzzard was sick, and Matt could honestly say he didn’t give a damn. Any feelings he’d once had for the man had disappeared years ago. Matt had only come back for Nikki. She was confused and angry and needed closure before the old man kicked the bucket.
There was also the issue of the Lone Wolf. The ranch had been in the family for over a hundred and thirty years. According to the trust, the land had to be passed to another Gunderson. Whether the old man acknowledged her or not, Nikki had a right to half of everything. Gunderson blood flowed through her veins, and as far as Matt was concerned, she could have the whole operation—the land, the house, all of it. The place had been profitable, assuming Wallace hadn’t run it into the ground, and Nikki needed the money. Needed to quit the dive bars she’d been working, maybe get herself an education.
The week before she died, his mother had told him about Nikki. He’d finally met her a year ago in Houston, and sometimes it was still hard to believe he had a sister. Officially she was his half sister, but so what? She was related to him by blood…. She was family. His sister without the technical bullshit attached. And he wanted the best for her.
Even if it meant facing the crazy old drunk a final time. Matt only hoped there was enough left of the Lone Wolf to give Nikki a fresh start. But then Wallace would’ve had to crawl pretty far into the bottle to let the place deteriorate. Besides drinking and being mean, the other thing he did consistently was try to one-up the McAllisters.
Matt sucked in some air. Man, he couldn’t think about them without picturing Rachel. He didn’t expect to see her, and he was sorry about that. But someone as bright and pretty and outgoing as her wouldn’t stick around Blackfoot Falls. Rachel had far too much going for her. He’d reminded himself of that a hundred times the night he left ten years ago. Later, it had been no surprise to find out she’d gone to college. If she hadn’t, now that would’ve shocked him.
“You’re tense,” Nikki said. “If you’ve changed your mind, we can turn around right now, be back in Houston by tomorrow night.”
Matt glanced over at her. Her knees were drawn to her chest and she rocked gently against the seat belt. “It’s gonna be okay,” he said.
“I’m serious. We don’t have to do this. The bastard will probably deny he’s my father and we’ll have come for nothing.”
From the first day he met her, Nikki had always referred to Wallace as ‘the bastard.’ Then one night, after four shots of tequila with beer backs, Matt pointed out that technically she was the bastard. Silence had stretched long enough for him to regret teasing her. But then she’d smacked his arm and they’d laughed so loud the bartender told them to shut up or leave.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked, nerves making her mild Texas drawl more pronounced.
“Just wondering what you’re gonna call him.” Matt rested