Your'e Still the One Read online

  “You son of a bitch.” Matt grabbed the front of the shorter man’s shirt and dragged his face up to his. In a low and deadly voice, he said, “Touch her again and I’ll kill you.”

  “Screw you, Gunderson. You and your big-shot attitude. You don’t scare me.”

  Matt’s free hand balled into a fist that shook with restraint. Veins popped from his neck and forehead. Rachel had never seen him so enraged.

  “Forget it, Matt.” Nikki touched his arm. “Let him go. The jerk’s not worth it.”

  Matt wouldn’t take his piercing gaze off the other man’s face, wouldn’t release his shirt.

  “See?” The guy winked at Nikki. “She liked it.”

  Nikki hung on to Matt’s arm. If she hadn’t, Rachel was certain he would’ve taken a swing.

  She saw the fire raging in his eyes, and frightened for him, she moved closer. “Matt, don’t. He’s goading you into taking the first punch.”

  “Listen to her,” Nikki pleaded.

  The bodyguard turned to eye Rachel, his boozy breath assaulting her. “Wouldn’t mind a taste of you either.”

  She reared her head in disgust, saw the control slip from Matt. He tried to shake Nikki off, but her persistence ended up leaving him vulnerable. The bodyguard’s beefy fist slammed into Matt’s face. He staggered back, landing against his sister.

  The Watering Hole door opened with a blast of music.

  Rachel turned, desperate for help to stop the fight.

  “Eddie, what’s going on?” It was the friend, Wallace’s other thug.

  The momentary disruption allowed Matt to recover. He went after Eddie, throwing a punch that clipped his jaw and knocked him to the sidewalk.

  Tony didn’t hesitate. Leaving his buddy on the ground, he rushed Matt.

  “Stop it, please. Stop!” Rachel tried to throw herself between them, but Matt yanked her out of the way.

  Again he paid for the interference, suffering a thudding blow to his gut. Rachel exchanged a helpless glance with Nikki. Matt was outnumbered, and the men looked as if they wanted to beat the hell out of him.

  Eddie had jumped to his feet. Rachel and Nikki tried to block him from ganging up on Matt. He shoved them aside as if they were nothing but rag dolls, and Rachel fell to the sidewalk. The experience stunned her. To be roughly handled like that by a man shook her to her core. Nikki recovered immediately. She grabbed a two-by-four from the bed of a parked pickup, while Rachel watched in mute horror as the two men pounded Matt with their fists.

  He threw his fair share of punches, bloodying Eddie’s face, then landing a blow that temporarily doubled Tony over. But with two of them on him, Matt didn’t stand much of a chance. The confusion also prevented Nikki from taking a clear swing without clipping her brother.

  Rachel forced her feet to move. Someone in the Watering Hole would help. She thought she heard Trace yelling from a distance and turned around. He was running toward them. But it was too late to save Matt from hitting the ground.

  Tony kicked him in the stomach. Matt curled into himself, using his arm to protect his ribs and avoiding the toe of Eddie’s boot. Seizing her chance, Nikki smashed the two-by-four across Eddie’s back. With a yelp of pain, he fell to his knees.

  Time seemed to freeze. Tony glared at Nikki, but he didn’t seem anxious to strike a woman. “Put it down,” he growled at her.

  “Screw you.” She lifted it higher. “Stay away from my brother.”

  He jerked in obvious surprise, then frowned at Matt.

  “You stupid bitch,” Eddie muttered, one hand holding his back, while using the other to push himself up.

  “Call me that again, I’ll take your goddamn head off.” Nikki’s hands shook, but she tightened her grip.

  Matt almost made it to his feet, but Tony kicked him again.

  “Tony, listen.” Rachel moved in, holding a restraining hand out to Nikki. “Your friend started this fight,” Rachel said, hoping her instinct was right about the younger man. She glanced down at Matt, knowing she had to stop this peacefully. He was in a rage and wanted an outlet, no matter what the odds. “Eddie grabbed Nikki. She tried to get away. Matt was protecting her. I saw everything.”

  Confusion creased Tony’s face. He didn’t automatically leap to his friend’s defense. Nor did he interfere when Matt slowly stood. In fact, the suspicious look Tony pinned on Eddie gave Rachel hope this would end here.

  Struggling to his feet, Eddie cursed viciously. “She was asking for it.”

  Matt swore and would’ve lunged for him, but Nikki cut him off by placing herself between the men.

  “Jesus, Eddie,” Tony said, shaking his head.

  “You’re not gonna back me up?” He glared in disbelief at his friend before turning to rush Matt, who seemed ready to oblige.

  Luckily, Trace had finally reached them.

  Unfortunately, it was Tony he punched.

  In seconds, fists were flying. Rachel and Nikki screamed in unison for everyone to stop. A pair of Circle K wranglers coming out of the bar, and Jesse, brought the brawl to a halt.

  No encouragement required, Tony and Eddie jumped in their red Dodge Ram and sped down Main Street. A deputy—had to be Roy—driving the sheriff’s truck, passed the Dodge as he entered the town limits. He’d eventually notice them clustered outside the Watering Hole, if he hadn’t already.

  “What do you think?” Jesse glanced from the slowing pickup to Matt, who used his sleeve to wipe the blood from his chin.

  “No use getting him involved. Those bastards will get their asses fired tomorrow.” He looked at Nikki. “Unless you want to press—”

  “No.” She shook her head, stared unblinkingly after the men, her hands still clutching the two-by-four like a lifeline.

  “You were awesome,” Rachel said, feeling ashamed over her reaction to being shoved. “Really quick thinking.”

  Nikki let out a faint whimper that seemed to embarrass her.

  “You were.” Trace gently loosened the piece of wood from her grasp. “You were amazing.”

  Her shocked gaze flicked to his face, sharpened when it touched on the small cut on his lower lip and then flitted away. She straightened her spine and slid her fingers through her hair. “I need a drink. Matt, you?”

  “I’m gonna pass.” He tried to hide his wince, but Rachel saw it and noticed his right arm discreetly pressed to his ribs.

  “You’re hurt,” she said, feeling like an idiot. He’d been kicked in the stomach, for God’s sake.

  He shrugged, probing his battered face. “Yeah, I’ll probably have a shiner, but this is nothing.”

  “Bull.” Nikki’s worried dark eyes widened as if she were really seeing him for the first time after the fight.

  “You’re seeing Dr. Heaton.” Rachel slid an arm around him.

  “The hell I am,” he argued, and slumped against her.

  13

  “GOD, MATT, RACHEL’S right—you have to see the doctor.” Nikki had rushed to his other side, her expression stricken.

  “I’m not hurt bad enough,” he said irritably. “You’ve seen me worse off.” With a quiet grunt, he forced himself to stand straighter, and slanted Rachel a look. “I meant from competing. Not fighting.”

  “I got that.” She held him tighter, noticed the bruising and swelling that had started to mar his handsome features. “It’s still a good idea to let the doctor have a look.”

  “I’ll think about it. Right now I’d like to get off the sidewalk.” He squinted at Roy climbing out of the sheriff’s vehicle now parked behind Matt’s. “My truck still running?”

  “I cut the engine,” Jesse said. “I’ll move it closer.” He turned to the wranglers who’d helped break up the fight and the others who had trickled out of the bar when they’d finally heard the commotion. “Everybody go on back into the Watering Hole.”

  There was nodding and shuffling, and then the crowd was gone. Jesse headed toward Matt’s truck, stopping to talk with Roy. Trace stuck close, his hand
s jammed in his pockets. Rachel knew he was still tense and pumped full of adrenaline. She hoped he wasn’t planning on doing something stupid.

  “I’m so sorry, Matt.” Nikki stared at his scraped chin, her eyes moist, but no tears fell. “This was my fault.”

  “Hell, Nik, none of this is your fault.” Matt pulled away from her to look into her face. “Did you want him to touch you?”

  “No.” The word flew out in a shaky whoosh. “I told him to get away or I’d kick him in the—” She sighed. “I guess trouble will always follow me,” she murmured to herself. “I just wish you hadn’t gotten involved. You know I can take care of myself.”

  “Ah, Nik.” He rubbed her arm, and Rachel looked away from the private moment. Something told her they’d had a similar conversation before.

  She ached for them both. Nikki obviously had demons of her own, and poor Matt...he wanted to be that big brother who made everything better, but he was damaged, too. God, how Rachel hated Wallace Gunderson at this moment. She didn’t care that he was dying. Maybe with him gone his children could have some peace.

  “I’m going to take care of you, Matt,” Nikki said, using her thumb to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth. “We’ll clean you up, maybe call the doctor, huh? Just to be sure.”

  Matt sighed, briefly closing his eyes.

  Rachel’s whole body tensed. She couldn’t walk away now. She wanted to take care of him. Of course she understood Nikki wanted to be with her brother, but Rachel had to do this. Needed this.

  “Hey, Nikki.” Trace waited for her to meet his eyes. “I think Rachel will take really good care of Matt.”

  Nikki blinked, turned to look at her brother and then to Rachel. The torn expression on the younger woman’s face tugged at Rachel’s heart, but she couldn’t find it inside to be charitable about this. Matt was hers. Just for tonight.

  A strained smile curved Nikki’s lips. “Matt?”

  “Go have a drink with Trace. In fact, have one for me, too.”

  She seemed uncertain, but then reluctantly nodded.

  Trace finger-combed his hair. “Look here.” He probed the corner of his mouth. “I cut my lip. If you’re offering TLC I could use some.”

  Rachel laughed.

  Nikki rolled her eyes. “I’ll buy you a shot.”

  He gave her the trademark grin that had gotten him in and out of trouble since he was twelve. “Well, darlin’, now you’re talking.”

  “What?” Nikki said dryly. “You forgot my name already?”

  At that, Matt laughed. It ended in a groan. “I’m okay,” he said, putting up a hand, his glare daring anyone to contradict him. “Go,” he ordered when uncertainty reappeared on Nikki’s face. “So I can get off my feet.”

  “Fine,” she said with a snap in her voice and headed for the Watering Hole door.

  Trace mouthed that he’d take her back to the Sundance, and followed her into the bar.

  Matt watched them go. “Those two ever get together I don’t know which one to feel sorrier for.”

  Rachel adjusted her hold around his waist. “Let’s worry about taking care of you.”

  “Did you drive, or shall we take my truck?”

  Jesse walked up to them. “I told Roy you’d call him if you or Nikki wanted to give a statement. No one will bother you tonight.” He finished fiddling with his key chain and held up a key. “Noah is out of town. Use his guest room. His place is just around the corner,” Jesse said for Matt’s benefit.

  Rachel frowned, at first not sure what to say, then finally asked, “Did Roy give that to you?”

  “He offered, because he knew Noah wouldn’t mind. But I have my own key. Cole and I each have one,” he said, studying her face as if he could somehow communicate something without spelling it out. “From a while back, okay?”

  “But—”

  “Rachel, take the key.” Jesse dropped it in her palm. “Matt will explain it to you later.” The men exchanged smiles, then Jesse strode down Main Street.

  She stared after him for a moment. Why wasn’t she getting this? Switching her gaze to the key nestled in her palm, she wondered if Jesse had changed his mind about Matt since their ride into town, or if he’d simply chosen to trust her instincts.

  Sighing, she glanced at the door to the Watering Hole. Trace would see to Nikki. Jesse would smooth things over if Rachel didn’t go home tonight.

  “We’ll take your truck,” she said, pocketing the key and looking at Matt. God, his poor face.

  “He said Noah lives around the corner.”

  “Right, but I’m not going to let you walk.”

  “You’re making too big a deal out of this.”

  “Tough.” She guided him to the curb where Jesse had parked the pickup.

  He leaned heavily on her, but he didn’t seem to have trouble walking. “This sucks, tomorrow night being the dance and all.”

  “You don’t dance anyway.”

  Matt snorted. “How do you know I haven’t learned?”

  She opened the passenger door. “Have you?”

  “No, but at least I’m not too embarrassed to shuffle my feet and pretend.”

  Rachel smiled. “Let’s make you better first. Get in.”

  “I can drive.”

  “Dammit, Matthew.”

  Sighing, he held the door for support and slowly straightened to slide onto the seat.

  “It’s your ribs, isn’t it?” she asked. “And don’t lie.”

  “Yeah, but they’re just bruised.” He paused to settle in. “I’m not being stupid or trying to be macho. I have to be in shape to ride in two weeks.”

  She hated the idea of him climbing on a bull that soon, but just nodded. “I think we should stop at the sheriff’s office and get a first aid kit from Roy.”

  “I have one stowed in the back with everything we need.”

  She closed the door, then went around to the driver’s side. Good for him for being responsible and carrying his own kit. Too bad it made her think of Jesse’s earlier warning, and she had to bite her lip to keep from asking Matt if he used it often.

  The drive took three minutes. Another two to navigate the narrow sidewalk to the small house and unlock the front door.

  “Noah has a white picket fence.” Matt chuckled, walking over the threshold without her help. The house was old, the doorway narrow. “Who’d have thunk it?”

  “The place belongs to the county.” Rachel flipped a wall switch that turned on a pair of brass lamps flanking a tan leather couch. “It’s part of his compensation package.”

  “I’m still gonna give him shit over it.”

  Rachel found that oddly reassuring and smiled. “I’ve never been here before,” she said, glancing around the room designed for comfort and not style. The recliner was worn, the wooden floors in need of refinishing, and the stone fireplace was big enough to heat the entire house. “Why don’t you sit while I find the bathroom and set up.”

  “Set up?” He touched his cheek and chin, then checked his fingers. “I’m not bleeding anymore. I need a damp paper towel, cotton balls and a tube of NEOSPORIN. That’s it.”

  “And your ribs?”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “See? Told you it’s nothing. I forgot already.”

  “Stop looking adorable. I won’t let it distract me.” She surveyed the painful-looking scrape on his cheek from being pummeled to the sidewalk, then ran her gaze down the front of his black-and-gray flannel shirt. Blood stained his collar and his sleeve was torn. “Will you sit?”

  “No, let’s get this over with.”

  Carrying the first aid kit, she led him down the hall. She noticed what had to be the guest room on the right. A double bed covered with a navy-and-brown patchwork quilt was the only furniture in the small room. Off to the left was the bathroom, a very tiny bathroom with ugly turquoise walls and a dated tub and sink. She put down the toilet seat cover, then stepped aside for him to sit while she got rid of her jacket.

  He’d alre
ady started unbuttoning his shirt and had pulled the hem from his jeans. Standing in the doorway, he paused to probe his ribs. His fingers were slow and careful like a man who’d done this many times. When he finally looked up, the relief in his eyes was genuine. “Yeah, they’re just bruised.”

  “I hope so.” She watched him bypass the sink, amused that he hadn’t even glanced in the mirror. Wow, not her...that would’ve been the first thing she’d done. “You’ll have to take off your shirt.”

  “Right.” He grimaced with the effort, and she slipped between him and the tub to help.

  She hung the shirt on the side of the tub and bent to open the first aid kit sitting on the floor. Finding a soft sterile cloth sealed in plastic and everything else she needed, she straightened and looked at him, her heart fluttering.

  “I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” he said, his eyes bleak. “But thank you.”

  “All I see is a man who defended his sister. Though I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you.”

  “Don’t do it.” He slumped back, his expression guarded. “Don’t expect anything of me or you’ll end up disappointed.”

  Rachel turned to the sink to wet the cloth, not wanting him to see that his remark had hurt her. “I’m not looking for a relationship, Matt,” she said, her words a bit more clipped than she’d intended. “You can stop worrying.”

  “No.” He caught her arm and pulled her to stand between his spread legs. “You have it wrong,” he said, looking into her eyes. “It’s not you—it’s me. I’ll disappoint you.”

  “Because you think I want something, but I don’t.”

  “Christ, Rachel, I know I have nothing you want. I also don’t have a history of meeting expectations. You, if anyone, should understand that.”

  She didn’t like the “have nothing you want” phrasing, especially stated so matter-of-factly. “I’m not following.” She gently touched the cloth to his cheek. “Are you talking about Wallace? Why does he suddenly count? Nothing you could’ve done would please him, and only because he knew you were the better man. Even as a teenager, you were the better man.”