Cattleman's Courtship (16 page)

“I’m a fill-in date for Trista’s sister.” He angled his head to one side, his smile growing. “Her boyfriend, my roommate, couldn’t come. When I found out you were going to be here, I said I’d gladly take his place.”

Cara’s flush grew warmer. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really. And I’d really like to claim a dance later on.”

“I think that might work,” she said, forcing herself not to glance at Nicholas. Spending time with another guy would be good for her. Make her realize Nicholas wasn’t the only fish in the sea.

“I’ll catch you later.” He pointed his finger at her, then winked and walked away.

Trista’s brother walked to the podium, made a few jokes about his sister and then turned to Cara.

“I just noticed Tod talking to you, Cara. And I know there are a few other guys who have noticed you, as well. Cara, my dear men, is still single and still attractive. She works as a vet.” He glanced at his paper and grinned. “Cara has been visiting Cochrane, the vet clinic for now, but rumor has it she’s moving to Montreal soon. She used to live in Cochrane but before that, she and her mother traveled wherever the wind took them. So though she’s single, she’s a challenge to pin down.” He gave her a quick grin. “Cara was also Trista’s best friend when she lived here, which I understand is the longest time this peripatetic girl ever stayed in one place. Which explains how Nicholas Chapman managed to nab her. But only for a time, gentlemen, only for a time.” This netted her another grin, which she gamely returned. “But enough about Cara. She is going to talk about my sister and hopefully give us some new insights into the inner workings of Trista’s early years.”

Cara drew a quick breath, sent up a prayer for strength and picked up her glass.

In one of her classes, her prof had said the number one fear most people had was of public speaking.

She wanted to add a caveat to that. Public speaking in front of an old fiancé in a setting that was supposed to have been their wedding created a stress level beyond that basic fear.

Just pretend he’s not here. Don’t look at him, don’t acknowledge him. This is about Trista and your tribute to her.

She glanced nervously around the gathering, her hands clammy on her glass as all faces turned to her. She wished Uncle Alan and Aunt Lori would have stayed. They could have been her two-person cheering section.

Help me not to mess up in front of Nicholas,
she prayed.
Help me not to get nervous.

She cleared her throat and dove in.

“When I first met Trista I was a gawky teenager, new to the community and new to the school. I was in eleventh grade and had been in as many schools in as many grades. I wasn’t looking forward to starting all over.” She turned to Trista and smiled. “I remember standing by the fence, looking around the groups of people and wondering where I would fit in when this bouncy, cheerful girl bopped up to me and asked me my name. I was entranced by her confidence and so thankful I could have kissed her.”

“I know the feeling,” Lorne piped in.

Cara waited for the general laughter following that comment to die down. “Trista taught me how to put on makeup, how to dress, how to do my hair and how to talk to guys—something that I struggled with.”

“I can’t believe that,” Trista’s brother called out.

More polite laughter.

“Lorne, I want you to know that Trista is a loyal, caring, warmhearted person. Trista stood up for me when I got picked on by kids who thought I was a bit strange because I’d never stayed long in one place.” Cara’s eyes were on Trista but she sensed Nicholas’s intent gaze, as real as a touch—caught his puzzled frown. When they were together, she had kept comments about her past to minimal jokes, adopting a breezy tone as if none of it mattered. But it had, and in her desire to show Trista what her friendship meant, she had unwittingly exposed herself.

His attentiveness made her falter a moment, but she recovered. What did it matter what he knew about her now? Nothing she said would have an effect on their lives.

“Trista stood up for me as, for what seemed like the hundredth time, I navigated yet again unfamiliar ground of new schools and new people,” Cara said, soldiering on. “She stood up for me when I needed a friend and, at times, a shoulder to cry on when I felt all alone. She lent me her clothes, her advice and helped me find my place. She stood by me through thick and thin and it’s an honor to stand up for her now.” She looked around the room. “Could you all join me in a toast to a beautiful bride, a dear friend and a loving wife.”

“To Trista,” was echoed around the tent.

As she walked back to the head table, her gaze unwittingly slipped past Trista.

Nicholas stared at her, his features now an enigmatic mask.

Cara sat down, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Nicholas Chapman, best friend of the groom and also single, is well-known to most of us. He’s lived here all his life, though the past number of years more than half his time is spent raking in the money on offshore rigs and, lately, Kuwait. According to Lorne he’s hoping to retire early so he can sit and count his ill-gotten gains.” Bert threw Nicholas a mischievous grin. “But for now he’s still working. So, girls, if you want to catch him, you’ve got about a week until he ships out again, so no dilly-dallying.”

He stepped aside to polite laughter as Nicholas made his way to the podium.

“Good evening,” Nicholas said, looking around the gathering. “I’ve known Lorne since I was a kid. I’ve got more memories than we’ve got time but if you want to know particulars about the night the cows got into his dad’s wheat crop, or how the sugar got into his brother’s motorcycle’s gas tank, or why the windmill stopped working, or how the graffiti got on the number two overpass…well, suffice it to say I’ll be here all night.” He winked at Lorne. “Trista, you and Lorne are meant for each other. I know Lorne will be a loving, caring husband. That he will treat you with respect and consideration. That he will put your needs first and that he will be a support to you in your faith journey.” He lifted his glass. “To Lorne.”

Cara kept her eyes down as Nicholas talked, his voice pulling at old memories. Yet his words cut when he spoke of Lorne putting Trista’s needs first.

He didn’t see it, she thought. He didn’t see what he had done to her and her headache increased.

Cara leaned close to Trista. “I have to go get my purse. I’ll just be a minute.”

“You okay?” Trista asked. “You look a bit pale.”

“Headache. I’ll be okay.”

Cara got up and left the tent, thankful for the cooling evening air. She deliberately took her time walking to the house, her frustration with Nicholas slowly easing with each step she took.

Why should his words bother her? Just because he recognized that Lorne would put Trista first, didn’t mean he’d do the same.

She found her purse in the room they had changed in, popped a couple of aspirin and left, closing the door behind her.

Across the hall, the door to Nicholas’s room was open. Curiosity drew her to the doorway and she took a quick look in. Pictures of various rodeo cowboys hung on the wall right above a trophy he must have received competing in a rodeo.

A small pair of cowboy boots sat on a shelf above his bed. His, she presumed. Old school pictures hung on one wall beside some older pictures of what seemed to be his grandparents. Beside them, a wedding photo of his parents, which surprised her. Though Nicholas never talked about his mother, he obviously still cared about her.

As she looked around the room filled with the detritus of a life lived in one place, a sense of homesickness nudged her.

The only place she had ever stayed long enough to collect memorabilia was at her aunt and uncle’s place in Cochrane. And even then, the only things she had in her bedroom were a few mementos from the two years she went to high school here.

Once again she was struck by the fact that Nicholas had history. With a wistful smile, she turned away and went downstairs.

She closed the door of the house behind her, and just as she headed down the porch stairs, a tall figure loomed in the dark. She stifled a startled scream before she realized it was Nicholas.

“Are you okay?” He had one hand slung up in his pocket, the other tapped the seam of his pants.

She remembered too well the touch of that hand on her hip, the other on hers. And how, for a moment, she had felt safe.

“I have a bit of a headache,” she said. “I was heading back to the party.”

“Trista sent me looking for you. They’re about to do the first dance.”

Cara nodded her acknowledgment of her obligations even as her heart fluttered at the thought of dancing with Nicholas.

But before she left, he caught her hand and turned her back to him. In the gathering dusk, his glittering eyes were focused on her like a laser.

“You never told me it was hard for you coming here.”

She shrugged aside his comment, adopting a breezy tone to let him know it didn’t matter. “That was way in the past. I only wanted Trista to know what she did for me, that’s all.”

Thankfully he didn’t say anything, but as they walked back, he kept his hand in the small of her back, sending tiny shivers dancing up her spine. But she didn’t move away.

The music had already started when they made their way back into the tent. Trista and Lorne were already twirling around on the dance floor, eyes only for each other. Cara watched them with a smile. They made such a perfect couple.

The music changed, and Trista turned and beckoned to her. That was the signal for Cara and Nicholas to join them.

“Shall we?” Nicholas held his hand out to her, and she placed hers in his. This time his hand was warm and hers cold. His fingers tightened as he gently drew her into his arms.

Cara’s hand trembled as she laid it on his shoulder, and her heart fluttered out an irregular beat. She tried to keep herself distant from him, but then his hand on her waist slipped around and drew her closer.

Once again she was struck by how right it felt to be in his arms. As if she had been lost for a time and was now where she belonged.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the moment. Then giving into an impulse, she slipped her arm around his back, and laid her head on his shoulder.

She drew in a long, slow breath, and eased it out, hardly daring to breathe.

Forgive me, Lord,
she prayed, as her arm tightened around him.
He still means so much to me.

His breath fanned her hair, and then to her surprise, she heard him whisper her name.

“What is it?” she whispered back.

“I missed you.” He words came out in a sigh, warm on her ear. “I didn’t want to, but I do.”

Though he whispered the words, they thundered in her ear, creating a storm of confusion. She thought of how aloof he had looked the past hour, of how he kept his distance.

“I thought you were angry with me,” she said, keeping her head on his shoulder.

“I was. I was angry because I couldn’t help how I still feel about you.”

She thought again of the kiss they had shared. What was happening between them? And what was she supposed to do about it?

Time and time again she was confronted with her old feelings for Nicholas. And somehow, since coming back to Cochrane, they had changed, grown deeper, more intense.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said the other day,” he said. “About how you had planned our wedding.” He drew back to look at her face. “How you had seen us with a future.”

“At one time, I did.”

“I did, too.”

He spun her around in time to the music and then spoke again, his voice deep, intense.

“I can’t get you out of my mind, Cara. I thought I could, but you keep haunting me.”

His words sang through her soul. He felt the same way she did, she thought, as her heart took a long, slow dive.

She leaned back a bit as Nicholas made another turn, the twinkling minilights softening the lean line of his jaw.

“I keep thinking about you, too,” she returned, holding his earnest gaze.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of just thinking. Do you think there is a chance for us?”

Cara nestled her head against his neck, her fluttering heart now thundering out its beat.

“Maybe,” she whispered back. It wasn’t much, but for now it was all she could give him. She was still afraid of him and the emotions he easily resurrected in her.

Yet the thought of being without him seemed harder to bear than the thought of being with him.

Then, to her surprise, his lips brushed her temple, then her cheek. She closed her eyes, letting him beguile her.

Then it seemed all too soon the music stopped and the dance was over. Nicholas gently drew back, and fingered a strand of hair away from her face.

“We need to talk,” he said. “But not here and now.” He released her but he still held her hands. “Will you go out with me? Tuesday?”

Cara couldn’t look away and knew she couldn’t say no.

“I want to get things cleared up between us,” he continued. “I feel like we didn’t finish our last conversation.”