Reclaiming Nick

by Susan May Warren

  He touched the horse’s neck, ran his hand down his jaw, then rubbed his nose.

  The horse blew out, as if in recognition.

  “Pecos?” he whispered.

  “Do you know this horse?” Piper asked. She’d followed Nick and now reached out to touch the horse’s face.

  Pecos jerked his head.

  “Shh,” Nick soothed, his pulse rushing. How . . . ? Stepping closer, he put his arms around the animal’s neck, unable to push through any more words. He inhaled the familiar smell, traced the shape of an animal that had been as close as a brother. No, closer.

  “It’s my roping horse,” he said in a voice that didn’t sound like his at all. “I . . . I thought he’d died.”

  Piper touched his shoulder. “Where did he come from?”

  “Back behind the herd,” Andy said again.

  Nick drew a deep breath, stepped away from Pecos, grabbing his halter. The horse wasn’t bridled, but Pecos didn’t need a bit to respond to the commands of his master. Nick stroked the horse’s white face. “Where did you come from, old friend?”

  “The St. John place.” Stefanie’s voice sounded tight behind him.

  Nick turned to see Stefanie sitting on her own horse. She pushed her hat up so he could see her eyes. Dark, even disturbed. “Dad gave Pecos to Maggy shortly before he died.”

  “I don’t think Cole told me the truth, Doctor, and I need to know what’s going on.”

  Cole heard Maggy in the next room, pacing the kitchen floor, and knew he’d better brace himself. The fact that she’d tracked down Doctor Lowe on a Sunday meant Maggy wasn’t going to be deterred from the truth. But Cole had a feeling that bigger things might be coming down the pike because as he stared at the road, he saw Bishop Noble’s old pickup pulling a horse trailer and headed their direction. So Nick Noble was paying him a visit.

  Cole rose and snatched his crutches, maneuvering out the front door and onto the porch. The cherry red pickup churned up gravel, while Cole felt the same churning in his stomach. Lord, give me wisdom. Although he’d forgiven Nick years ago, thankful for the blessings the nightmare had wrought, he’d still wrestled the dread that coiled inside him. That he could lose everything he loved to a man who despised him.

  The truck pulled into the courtyard, and again Cole wished he had a bigger house, something like Saul’s, to make Nick take a breath. Cole reminded himself of Bishop’s advice to him: a boy didn’t become a man through his fists but by facing his fears.

  Cole’s foot throbbed in tune to his heartbeat as Nick stopped and got out of the truck. He slammed the door and went straight to the horse trailer.

  Nick had changed. Cole saw it in his face as he worked the lock. A hardness in his expression had replaced the laughter of a boy who loved trouble. Maybe Nick, too, had learned the wisdom of measuring his words. He wondered if perhaps that only made him more dangerous.

  The trailer door swung open, and Nick disappeared inside to back out a horse. Cole tightened his jaw. Pecos. How had he gotten out?

  Cole supposed that Nick would eventually discover Bishop’s gift to Maggy. Cole hadn’t been surprised—the animal hadn’t been ridden since Nick’s temper tantrum/escape, and Maggy’s history of helping her father train Pecos when he was a colt at the Big K gave her a special bond with the animal. Not only that, but Bishop knew how Nick had hurt Maggy. The gesture contained the fragments of guilt, the hope of forgiveness. The fact that he’d made it legal in the will said that Nick couldn’t take the horse back. But ever since the day Dutch delivered the animal, Cole knew that Nick would come calling for it anyhow.

  In many ways, Cole understood that his having Pecos was as terrible as his marrying Maggy.

  Nick said nothing as he led the horse to the corral. The other two horses nickered in greeting. Nick opened the corral gate and let the horse inside. Then he turned and stared at Cole. Nick’s dark eyes edged on rage as he took a long breath.

  Cole could hardly believe it when Nick simply marched back toward the truck. He heard the door behind him squeak, and Maggy stepped out onto the porch. She came to stand beside him.

  Nick stopped when he reached the truck. He stood there, saying nothing, his face granite, but his gaze ran over Cole, then Maggy.

  It shouldn’t be like this. They’d been more than friends—they’d been like brothers. Cole knew more about Nick than he did about himself, had a scar on his hand to prove his loyalties. All at once he longed for things to be right between them for Maggy’s sake.

  For CJ’s sake.

  The urge to step forward and hold out his hand nearly overpowered him. I forgive you, Nick.

  But even as his thoughts screamed it, his pride locked it inside. So he lifted his chin.

  Maggy put her hand on Cole’s shoulder.

  Nick gave a tiny shake of his head. “You always wanted what I had, Cole. My father, my girl, my horse, and now my land. For some reason you won’t rest until you’ve taken everything from me.”

  Cole kept his voice cool, detached, afraid he might betray how close that accusation hit. “You lost Maggy on your own, pal. As for your father, I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I promise you, I’m not trying to steal anything. Your father’s decisions were his own. I had nothing to do with it.”

  Nick glared at them. Finally, “I’m not sure what to think, Cole. But I promise this isn’t the end of it.”

  “Let it go, Nick.”

  He ignored Cole and got into the truck.

  Cole stood there, his stomach in his knees. In his peripheral vision, he saw a tear streak down Maggy’s cheek.

  They watched Nick pull away, his truck kicking up a wake of debris and fury. A wake of destruction.

  Just as it had so many years ago.

  “See if you can get me the editor at Montana Monthly. Tell her I have a great feature for her. Besides, she owes me a favor.” Piper shifted so the cell signal could clear the mountains. This morning the blue sky touched the far corners of the earth, with only the slightest wisps of clouds streaked high above. The smell of cows and grass and even woodsmoke tinged the air. Piper drank deeply, amazed at how a week on the range had awakened her soul. Made her feel clean. Almost.

  “You’re going to owe me favors if you don’t get back here soon,” Carter said. “Our editor asked me yesterday when you were coming back from your vacation. I told her you were incommunicado.” Behind his voice, Piper could hear the sounds of the newsroom.

  A wave of familiarity swept through her, tugging her back to her real life—deadlines, endless pots of coffee, the tick of computer keys. It felt as if she’d been gone for a decade rather than a week. She could barely remember when she hadn’t woken every day with the smell of the land permeating her thoughts, her dreams. Or the image of Nick Noble loving this land. When he’d embraced Pecos, the look on his face had made her nearly cry.

  She would never again ridicule the love between a man and his horse. But she did wonder what it might feel like to love something that purely, that freely.

  She’d never let herself love anyone but her mother and Jimmy. Letting someone that close meant they were within hitting distance then, weren’t they? She had enough scars from the first go-around to last her a lifetime.

  “Remind her that I have at least three more weeks of vacation coming. Besides, after I put together my audition tape, I won’t need the bit salary she pays me.”

  “Countin’ your chickens a little early, aren’t you, Piper?” But Carter’s voice held tease. “Or have you finally got the goods on Noble?”

  The view from here overlooked the valleys and bluffs for miles. Piper saw Nick working on the new wheel for the chuck wagon, recognized Dutch coming from the barn, leading his roan. Andy, Quint, and Old Pete had left earlier to check on the herd.

  After they’d counted their losses, the hands had driven the herd into the spring pasture while Piper and Nick unloaded the chuck-wagon supplies into the truck. She’d watched as Nick led his roping horse into
a trailer, and the look on his face had raised the hairs on her arms. Betrayal? Anger?

  Whatever the case, it was just enough to remind her exactly why she’d come to the Silver Buckle Ranch.

  He’d said little as they drove back to the ranch. Piper unloaded the supplies while he hitched up the trailer to the red pickup and took off.

  When he returned, the horse trailer was empty. He’d headed back to the field to help dispose of the dead cattle while Piper stayed back in camp, feeling helpless. She hated that they’d all worked so hard to get the cattle branded only to have so many die. She’d taken those thoughts to bed with her and stared at the ceiling, conjuring up scenarios.

  “I think someone is trying to sabotage the ranch,” she said to Carter. “A few days ago they found two of their bulls dead, and this weekend someone started a stampede.”

  Carter’s voice changed. “Do you have enough for your article on Noble?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I didn’t prove anything really—”

  “Come home, Piper. I mean it. If Nick is the man we think he is, he probably has a list of enemies larger than the population of Montana. I know that you think you’re safe . . . but I want you to come home before you get hurt. There’s only so much a guy can do trying to protect you from afar.”

  His concern touched her. He’d always been a sort of fill-in brother for her . . . someone she counted on to pick her up from the airport or eat dinner with on a lonely Saturday night. But she never considered that he might also feel the same brotherly affection. “I’m okay. You don’t need to protect me.”

  She heard Carter sigh, as if holding back a retort.

  Piper watched the black bodies of the remaining cattle grazing in the winter pasture. She wasn’t sure why they’d left the cattle there. She had a sinking feeling that they might soon be headed to their dark fate. “Besides, I have Nick.”

  “What?”

  She winced at his tone and even the lunacy of the statement. “Nick saved my life.”

  He’d done more than that. He’d kissed her and held her and let her see inside his heart. And what she’d seen only made her long for more.

  Worse, in his arms, she’d slept better than she had in years. That alone should send her running for the border.

  “He saved your life?” She could picture Carter taking his feet off his desk and leaning over it. “How?”

  “In the stampede. I was nearly killed. He dragged me to a pickup for protection. As it was, a cow came through the glass.”

  “Okay, really, that’s it. You’re leaving today.”

  Piper shook her head. “I can’t. I—they need help. The Silver Buckle is going under and with these cows lost—that’s why I want you to call the editor at Montana Monthly. And you’re going to have to teach me to cook.”

  She heard him groan, imagined him closing his eyes, rubbing his face. “I think all that fresh air has gone to your head, Piper. You can’t cook, remember?”

  “Yes, I can. I will. I’ll read these cookbooks, and you’ll tell me what to do.”

  “You can’t learn to cook over the phone.”

  “I can—it’s just beans and biscuits.”

  His pause told her how much he cared about her. “Listen to me carefully. Don’t fool yourself. You can’t cook. You can’t even reheat well. And if Noble finds out you’re stringing them along, he’ll kill you with his bare hands. If you have what you need, then you should leave. Now.”

  “I can cook. My mother cooked for years—how hard can it be?”

  “Even if you learn to cook—and, yes, you’re smart so you can probably do anything—you can’t stay there all summer! You have a job, and if you don’t come back to it, you’ll lose it. I never liked this idea anyway. Don’t make me come down there and throw you over my shoulder and drag you home.”

  “You could teach me to cook while you’re here then.”

  She pictured Carter shaking his head, and she smiled when his voice lowered. “Listen to me. You’re not a cowgirl. You’re not a cook. You’re a reporter. A good one whose career could be sliding through her fingers if she doesn’t get ahold of her senses.”

  In her mind’s eye, she saw the devastated expression on Stefanie Noble’s face. “I can’t leave them in the lurch.”

  “Piper, you are the lurch.”

  Her mouth opened in a long, exaggerated gasp. “I cooked a great meal for roundup.”

  “You had it catered!”

  “I warmed it well. Nick liked it.”

  “Oh, Piper,” Carter said, “you’re falling for him.”

  “I am not.” Piper flinched at her tone. “I’m not. It’s just that they’re so close to losing everything, and you know what a sap I am for the underdog.”

  “Not Nick Noble. Have you forgotten that you went there to find dirt on him so you could even the scales of justice?”

  How she wanted to pace. “Okay, listen, I’m starting to wonder if—”

  “What? That your brother was really guilty?”

  “No, of course not!” But, well, Piper hadn’t talked to her brother in years before his murder conviction. And he had lived all that time with their father; maybe Russell’s ways had infected his son more than she wanted to admit.

  No. “Jimmy didn’t do anything. But maybe Nick didn’t either.”

  “We did research on Nick, if you remember. He was the last one to see the victim, besides your brother. And we only know about your brother because he confessed. You and I both came to the same conclusion—Nick framed him.”

  Piper dug her boot into the ground, not quite sure what to say. Yes, the facts pointed to fishy circumstances. But after spending a week with Nick, her instincts practically screamed Nick’s innocence. Or perhaps that was her heart. At the moment she didn’t know the difference between truth and wishful thinking.

  Some ace reporter she’d turned out to be.

  “I think I can still get a confession from him.” Her words felt hollow, but she had nothing else, no other reason to stay at the Silver Buckle.

  At least not one she’d admit to herself.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Yes. But I need to stay here and . . . cook. However, I don’t know the first thing—”

  “Okay, fine. If you can boil water, you can cook. Piper, you’re one of the smartest women I know. And what you don’t accomplish in smarts, you make up for in charm. So go open a cookbook and start reading. Call me tonight with questions.”

  “You’re the greatest. Thank you. Thank you! Meanwhile, could you send me a bag of yogurt pretzels and a current edition of the Gazette and—”

  “Promise me that you’ll take me with you when you go to Wanted: Justice?”

  “Carter, I couldn’t live without you—you know that.”

  “The words I love to hear.” She heard his smile on the other end of the line. “I’ll keep my phone with me, Chef Pierre.”

  Piper closed her phone, slipping it into her jeans pocket. Right next to her tape recorder.

  CHAPTER 15

  “OKAY, CJ, ANTICIPATE, take a breath—” Nick opened the chute, and the calf sprang out, terrified, running for the end of the corral—“now!”

  CJ spurred his horse, and the bay shot forward, breaking through the barrier toward the calf. He had already swung his lasso once . . . twice. Then he let it fly. Even as the rope hung in the air, CJ yanked on the reins, bringing the calf to a stop. The rope landed around the calf’s neck, and a second later it broke off from the flimsy string attached to the saddle horn.

  “That was 9.24 seconds,” Nick said, looking at his stopwatch. “You’re getting faster every day, kid.”

  He remembered his and Cole’s practice sessions, from sunup to nightfall before the big events. He’d break out first, aiming for the head, and a split second later Cole would be aiming for the back feet. They made a synchronic pair—Nick leading, Cole following.

  It hadn’t been Cole the Follower who had stood on the St. Johns’ porch a
few days ago when Nick had returned Pecos. No, his eyes had flashed with ownership, his face resolute and unforgiving. And when Maggy joined him on the porch, her hand on his shoulder in a united front against the enemy—him—Nick knew exactly who’d been left behind.

  Cole had become a rancher, followed his dream.

  Nick had simply drifted.

  He had to admit, however, that seeing Maggy and Cole on the porch . . . somehow it looked . . . well, right. As if they belonged together.

  It made him wonder if they always had. “You lost Maggy on your own, pal.” Cole’s words had speared right through him, hitting the mark.

  He had lost Maggy on his own. Which meant that Cole hadn’t stolen her, not really. Truth be told, seeing Maggy didn’t stir up the old feelings like he thought it might. He could honestly say that he wanted her to be happy.

  Nick stepped into the corral, working with CJ as they drove the calf back into the pen. He locked the pen and leaned against the corral as CJ went at it again.

  He couldn’t help but like the boy for his energy and enthusiasm. And helping him took his mind off what Piper was up to in the kitchen. He’d probably stopped by the dining hall more often than necessary. Of course, Piper looked adorable in her chef’s coat, with flour on her face, her hair in a ponytail.

  “Nick, get out!” He remembered her startled expression yesterday as he’d burst in, smelling smoke yet again. The woman had a knack for setting the kitchen on fire. And her wretched expression as she held a blackened pan of—were those supposed to be biscuits?—only made him laugh.

  “Too many irons in the fire, George?”

  She’d smiled at him meekly as he approached, then wiped the flour from her nose with his finger. It took everything in him not to bend over and kiss her.

  “You’re not supposed to be bothering the cook,” she said, tossing the pan onto the counter and using a metal spatula to work off the biscuits. “I don’t get it. I followed the recipe. . . .”

  “Are you trying something new?” He glanced at the open page in the Joy of Cooking.