Nikki yawned as she got into her vehicle Monday morning at 1:00 a.m. Stars twinkled around the quarter moon, which looked like it was hanging right in the middle of her windshield. It had been the worst kind of weekend—slow and steady. The cubicles were never filled to capacity, and yet there was at least one patient all the time. The shifts went by faster when she was hopping busy and tired to the bone when she dropped to sleep.
She rolled the kinks from her neck and stuck the key in the ignition. Just as she put the car in reverse, her phone rang and startled her into hitting the brakes so hard that she flew backward against the seat with a thud. Her heart was thumping around in her chest like a bass drum when she finally found her phone in the bottom of her purse.
“Hello,” she said.
“Someone is trying to break into my house,” her mother whispered.
“Did you call the police?” Nikki whipped the car around and headed toward her mother’s house on the other side of town.
“No, I called you,” Wilma answered. “They’re cutting the screen door. I can hear them.”
“Is it locked?”
“Of course. Both locks on the screen door and four on the big door,” she answered.
“Where are you?”
“Hiding in the bedroom closet. I’ve got a quilt over my head so whoever it is can’t find me.”
Nikki jacked it up another five miles per hour. “I’m on my way. Stay where you are. You call the police. They should be there by the time I am.”
“If I’d wanted the police, I would’ve called them, not you. And turn off your lights and kind of coast into the driveway. If Mrs. Thomas sees or hears you, she’ll come runnin’ over here. She stays up all hours of the night and watches television. She’s really fat, so you know she’s eating the whole time,” Wilma whispered.
“Hang up, Mama, and call 911,” Nikki almost shouted.
“I will not!” Wilma yelled right back at her.
Nikki called the number herself, and the patrol car must’ve been in the area because a policeman was already there when she parked her car. She met him halfway between her car and the house. Her phone rang, but she ignored it.
“It was just a raccoon. He ran when I started up on the porch,” the policeman said. “I walked all around the house but didn’t see any signs. I think everything is all right.”
“Thank you,” Nikki told him as her phone rang again.
“Call if you need us. Better to be safe than sorry.” He headed back to the patrol car.
“Yes, sir,” Nikki said as she answered the phone.
“I told you not to call the police,” Wilma said. “Thank God Mrs. Thomas didn’t see the police car.”
Nikki rolled her eyes and plopped down on the ladder-back chair beside the door. Why it was there had always been a mystery because Wilma never went outside to sit in it. “It was a raccoon scratching at the door, not a person. He’s gone now. Open the door and let me in.”
“I’d have to undo all the locks and put my dentures back in and my hair is a mess. I can’t let you in or Mrs. Thomas might still see the lights and come over here. Weren’t you listening when I told you that she’s up all night watching television? You just go on home and get some sleep. We’ll talk tonight at seven like we always do,” Wilma said. “I’ll get this quilt folded and put back on the shelf, and take one of my anxiety pills before I go back to bed. Now go away before Mrs. Thomas realizes you’re here.”
Nikki shook her head slowly and added paranoia to the list of her mother’s disorders. “Four locks on the door. If she dies in that house, we’ll have to break the door down.”
She made her way from the house to her car and tried to close the door as quietly as possible so Mrs. Thomas wouldn’t come rushing out of her house. Then she drove straight to her apartment. Once she was inside, she left a trail of clothing across the living room floor and was naked by the time she reached the bathroom. A three-minute shower took the smell of the hospital off her body. She dried off and didn’t even bother with underpants or a nightshirt, just curled up between the cool sheets naked and was asleep the second her head hit the pillow.
The digital clock beside her bed rolled over to six-fifteen just as she opened her eyes, but she wasn’t sure if it was a.m. or p.m. Surely she hadn’t slept over fourteen hours! Light peeking through the mini-blinds made her realize she’d done just that. Her mother would call in less than an hour, and there was no way she could talk to Wilma without a cup or two of coffee. She pulled on some pajama pants and a tank top, plodded barefoot to the kitchen, and put a pot on the stove. While the water dripped through the grounds, she gathered up her dirty scrubs from last night, shoved them into the washing machine with two other sets from her suitcase, started the cycle, and then checked her phone.
There were two messages from Emily: Got tied up. Moving in Monday night.
The second one read: Please come after you talk to your mama.
The third one was from Rosemary: Can you take an eight-hour on Wednesday? Four to midnight?
She hurriedly sent one to Emily: Be there at eight.
Then one to Rosemary: Of course.
She ate an energy bar and a banana while she waited on the coffee and was on her second cup when the phone rang. “Hello, Mama. Did you sleep well after we got rid of the intruder last night?”
“Don’t you make light of that, young lady,” Wilma scolded. “My heart was racin’ worse than it does when I mop the kitchen. I swear if that woman you hired would do a better job of cleanin’ this place, it would be nice. You should fire her and hire someone else. I liked that first lady. She did things right.”
Nikki bit her tongue to keep from reminding Wilma that she’d hated the first lady and complained about her constantly. “Mama, I’m not firing Sharon. She does a fine job. Besides, what would Mrs. Thomas say if Sharon didn’t show up every Friday? You want gossip going all over your neighborhood about you?” Nikki put the phone on speaker and brushed her teeth while her mother ranted about Mrs. Thomas being so nosy.
“When did you have four locks put on your door?” Nikki asked when she could get a word in edgewise.
“If you’d come over here to see me more often, then you’d know when. An old woman like me livin’ alone needs to be protected.”
Nikki got fully dressed and pulled her hair up in a ponytail while Wilma went on and on about a newspaper article she’d read where a ninety-year-old woman’s house was broken into.
“She shot the man right in the leg and held him at gunpoint until the police came,” Wilma said.
“You want a gun?” Nikki asked.
“Good Lord, no. I believe in Jesus and He’ll protect me.”
So why all the locks? Nikki thought.
“Speakin’ of Jesus,” her mother was saying. “You missed a good sermon at church yesterday. I just wish our new pastor would get married. Folks are goin’ to talk about the way he’s so friendly with the single women,” Wilma said. “And those brothers of Emily’s were there too. That one they call Tag is pure trouble. You can tell by his eyes, and I heard that he kissed you at a rodeo. I hope that’s all he’s done. You stay away from that boy, Nikki. You set your cap on the preacher. If I was a healthier woman, I’d invite him and you to lunch so you could meet him. I wouldn’t mind you marryin’ a preacher.”
Yeah, right, Nikki thought. I might not be ready for a rebel like Tag Baker, but I’ll never be preacher’s wife material—and there’s another line that goes right behind it that says I don’t want to be, either.
“Mama, you are only sixty-one years old, and Dr. Richards told you that you’re very healthy for someone your age,” Nikki said.
“What does he know? He’s not even a real doctor. He just works in the emergency room like you do, and he only runs the clinic two days a week. It takes forever to get an appointment, and I need him to check my blood again. I’ve been taking calcium and a whole bunch of other supplements, but I think I might need something to keep my hair from falling out.”
So let’s see, Nikki thought, we’ve covered the preacher and Mama’s hair. We still have the phone service and her newspaper not arriving on time, and then I’ll try to set up a supper and she will give me some absurd reason why she can’t go.
Nikki picked up her purse and phone, made sure she had her keys, and locked the door behind her.
“Have you called the news office about my paper?” her mother asked, but she didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s gettin’ here later and later, and that boy who delivers it knows he’s supposed to lay it on the chair, but he just throws it from the road and hits my door.” She stopped for a breath. “I want it laid on the chair at three thirty so I have an hour to go through it before I have supper.”
“You call and tell them. I’ve got a job, too, Mama,” Nikki said.
“I never thought a child of mine would talk to me the way you do,” Wilma pouted. “I don’t ask that much of you, and you won’t even call the newspaper for me.”
No guilt trips today, Mama, Nikki thought. I’ve been on too many as it is.
“How about I pick you up for supper tomorrow night? We’ll go to the Mexican place.” She got into the car and hurriedly started the engine so she could turn on the air conditioner.
“I hear a car motor. Are you coming over here? You know the last show I watch comes on at eight. This is a bad time for you to visit.” Wilma’s voice was so high-pitched that it was squeaky.
“Then tomorrow evening?” Nikki backed up and headed toward the ranch.
“You know very well I can’t eat that kind of food. My stomach is too delicate, and besides, you always want to eat later than four thirty, and if I don’t take my meds on time, then I don’t feel good the next day. We’ll have to do it another day. It’s eight o’clock. Good night, Nikki,” Wilma said.
“Good night, Mama.” The only way Nikki could actually visit her mother was to drop in unexpectedly somewhere between one and four, and even then it upset Wilma’s schedule. It had been a while since she’d seen her mother in person so she made a mental note to go see her that week.
She turned on the radio and scanned through the stations until she found the one out of Dallas that she liked. “Here’s an old one for y’all this evening,” the DJ said. “Trent Tomlinson singing ‘One Wing in the Fire.’”
Nikki smiled as she drove through Sunset and turned to head east. The lyrics talked about a man’s father being an angel with no halo and one wing in the fire. That made her think of Tag and hope that he was at Emily’s that evening. He certainly didn’t have a halo, and there was no doubt that one of his wings smelled a lot like smoke, but still she liked the way easy banter between them lifted her spirits. After listening to her mother, for what seemed like eternity, she needed it, or maybe a shot of Jack Daniel’s—or better yet, both.
The prickly feeling on the back of Tag’s neck told him that Nikki had arrived. No other woman had ever affected him like that, but all his senses heightened whenever she was near. He and Hud were moving an old upright piano into Justin and Emily’s place that had come all the way from Tulia when the movers brought Emily’s things. It was the last big piece of furniture, and it weighed as much as a baby elephant.
“You’re going to owe me”—Tag stopped to catch his breath—“a chocolate cake when this is done.” He and Hud set the piano down where Emily wanted it. He glanced around the room, and he couldn’t locate Nikki, but she had to be somewhere. His neck hairs did not lie.
“And Granny said to tell you that it will definitely need to be tuned after it’s been hauled around like this.” Hud pulled a bandana from his hip pocket and wiped sweat from his brow.
“There’s a chocolate cake already made and on the kitchen counter,” Emily said. “And I’ve got a piano man coming this week to tune it. I thought we’d have way too much stuff, but I was wrong. This is one big house.”
Justin wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and buried his face in her hair. “We’ll pick out one antique a year on our anniversary. How’s that sound?”
She turned around and hugged him tightly. “That’s so romantic. I love it.”
A streak of pure jealousy shot through Tag, something he’d never felt before, not even as a child when he had to share everything with a twin brother. But right then, he wanted someone to look at him the way Emily looked at Justin.
Holy crap! What’s happening to me? He raised his hand to his forehead. There must be something in the water that’s causing my brain to deteriorate.
Then there was Nikki. She came out of the bathroom at the end of the hall. Wearing jeans, a cute little off-the-shoulder cotton top, and flip-flops, she looked fantastic.
“Looks like you big strong men have been workin’ hard today.” She smiled.
Dammit! Why did the clouds part when she grinned? She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever set his eyes on, so what was it about her that jacked his pulse up several notches?
How many women have ever turned you down? His granny’s voice was clear in his head. Go on, count them.
He dropped his hand and thought about the question, but he couldn’t hold up a single finger. So what to do about this sudden attraction? Maybe do his best to get her to spend a night in his bed? Surely that would get her out of his system, and then he could go back to being his normal self.
Jackass! His grandmother’s voice was very plain. If you treat that girl like one of your one-night stands, I’m going to kick your ass myself. She deserves better than that.
When he turned back around, Nikki was nowhere to be seen.
“She’s in the kitchen,” Hud whispered. “She’s helpin’ Emily put things in the cabinets.”
“What makes you think I was lookin’ for her?” Tag asked.
“I’m your twin, remember. I know what you’re thinkin’ all the time.” Hud fell back on the sofa. “I’m worn out. Bring me a piece of chocolate cake. That’ll give you a good reason to be in there with the women folks. Oh, and I’d like a cold beer too.”
Tag sat down beside him. “I was thinkin’ you might bring me cake and beer since I lifted more than you did today.”
“Hey, now,” Maverick said from across the room. “I believe I outdid you both, and me and Paxton ain’t even family, so maybe y’all ought to tote beers to us.”
“I’ll settle this argument.” Nikki brought in a tray laden with four thick wedges of double-layer fudge cake on plates and four bottles of beer. She put it in the middle of the coffee table. “You’ll have to feed yourselves, no matter how tired you are.”
“Be a sport and at least feed me the first bite so I can get enough energy to lift the fork,” Tag teased.
“I don’t think so, cowboy. That would be eating your cake and having it too—now, wouldn’t it?”
“I tell you, Tag, this place has sucked the mojo right out of you.” Maverick leaned forward and picked up a piece of cake and a fork. “Do you want a full-fledged funeral when you die or just a graveside service?”
“Darlin’, please don’t die. I’d be obligated to go to the funeral to console Emily and my black suit is too small,” Nikki teased.
Tag shivered at the thought of death and then reached for the last piece of cake. “With friends like y’all, who needs enemies?” For some insane and unknown reason, Billy Tom’s smiling face came to mind. Had he always been an enemy or at one point had he been the friend that Tag thought he was?
“Praise the Lord!” Nikki raised a hand as high as it would go. “He’s eaten two bites. I think he’s goin’ to live. I’ll let Emily know so she won’t ruin her makeup with tears.” She disappeared out of the room.
“You should marry that woman,” Maverick said.
“The M-word scares me worse than that smartass remark about death.” Tag grabbed a beer and tipped it up.
“Amen, brother.” Paxton nodded. “We’re all still young.”
“And we’ve got wild oats to sow,” Maverick agreed.
“You’re preachin’ to the choir,” Tag chuckled.
“He’s lyin’ to us, guys,” Hud said. “He’s been thinkin’ about settlin’ down ever since we got here. I can see it in his eyes.”
“For being my twin, you don’t know me at all.” Tag was tempted to call Billy Tom and ask him exactly what kind of trouble he and the boys were about to get into, just to prove his point.
The kitchen was put together by nine thirty, and the guys had all left except for Justin. He’d fallen asleep in a recliner in the living room. Emily poured two glasses of white wine and handed one to Nikki, and motioned to the two stools shoved up under the bar.
“Thank you for coming tonight. Gloria was here this afternoon and thought she could arrange everything. I gave her a hug and told her that I wanted to do things my way since this was my dream house. She decided that she needed to make a trip to town to get her nails done if she couldn’t ‘help.’” Emily put finger quotes around the last word. “I am too tired to put up with the guilt trip that she’d send me on if she came back tonight, so I’m glad she didn’t. I just want to go to bed with Justin this first night in our own home and have him hold me until we both fall asleep.”
“Talk about a guilt trip.” Nikki told Emily about talking on the phone with her mother. “I tell myself every week that I won’t let her affect me like this, but I always do.”
“Yep.” Emily took a sip of wine. “I’ll fight a forest fire with only a cup of water most of the time, so why do I let Gloria get my goat?”
“You want her to like you since she’s Justin’s mama. I want my mama to love me, and maybe she does as much as she’s capable to love anyone other than herself. You and I make quite the pair, don’t we?” Nikki downed her wine and put a hand over the top of her glass when Emily started to refill it.
“That’s enough for me. I’ve got to drive home,” she said. “And I should be going just in case you and Justin have enough energy to christen this first night in your new home.” She slid off the barstool and gave Emily a sideways hug. “I love the house. Someday I hope to have what you’ve got here.”
“I want that for you too.” Emily pushed her stool back and followed Nikki to the door. “Call me. Tomorrow is going to be like the day after Christmas. We were busy with the wedding, and the house, and now it’s all done. Until the kids come out to the ranch for summer camp in a few weeks, I’ll have free time.”
“Will do. And if you get bored, just come on over to my place. We’ll break out the ice cream.” Nikki waved over her shoulder on her way to her car.
She sensed that someone was behind her and noticed that black Lincoln she’d seen a few days ago. She whipped around to confront whoever it might be and ran right into Tag’s chest.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to spook you.” He caught her in his arms to keep them both from falling. “I forgot to get the key to the cabin from Emily. I’m moving in there tomorrow.”
Her first instinct was to take a step backward, but his hold felt almost comforting. She looked up to find his gaze glued to her face.
His forefinger traced her cheek, then cupped her jaw, and then he bent enough that his lips covered hers in a scalding hot kiss. He picked her up and set her on the hood of her car. The tip of his tongue touched her lips, and she opened enough to let him inside, and she discovered that the taste of chocolate and beer together was pretty damned amazing.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the wedding,” he whispered when the kiss ended, and their foreheads were pressed together as they both tried to catch their breath.
If she were to be perfectly honest, she had wanted him to kiss her, too, but she couldn’t make herself say the words. Then of all the crazy things to come out of her mouth, she heard herself ask, “Want some help moving in tomorrow? I don’t have to work again until Wednesday at four.”
Did I really say that out loud?
The expression on Tag’s face told her that she had, and she couldn’t very well take them back.
“That would be great. I’ve got to work until dusk. We’ve got to get the fences bull tight so we can turn our cattle out of the corral. We’ve got good grass,” he said. “And I’m talking too much. If you’ll give me your address, I’ll pick you up at your place at seven, and maybe we can start with some grocery shopping.”
“I’ll be ready,” she said.
He brushed a sweet kiss across her forehead and disappeared into the darkness. With trembling legs, she slid off the hood and got into her car. When she turned the key to start the engine, the radio was on and the Pistol Annies were singing “I Feel a Sin Comin’ On.” It seemed like every single word had been written just for her that evening, especially when Miranda Lambert said that she had a shiver all the way down to the bone.