Reclaiming Nick Read Free Page A

Murderer Exonerated.” She wondered where Jimmy had spent his first night out of jail. By the time she’d read the news, it had been too late to travel down to Colorado to greet him. She didn’t know what to say, anyway. Especially after she hadn’t visited him even once during his five-year prison term. She felt sick that she’d actually been relieved when he’d bargained for a lesser sentence and she didn’t have to appear in court. She’d been able to hide from all of it while her half brother lived his nightmare out in the open.
    I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Jimmy. I’m sorry I failed you.
    Her way would be better for both of them—proving that Noble had lied, had purposely framed her brother for murder. And proving that her brother could have never been a killer would be a thousand times better than any apology, regardless of how heartfelt. Payback. Justice. Healing.
    If Piper played her cards right, her ploy would net them both a new future.
    Noble slipped her a guest check, and she peeled off the bills and left the café. For now she knew enough.
    Noble was guilty. And she planned not only to prove it but to destroy his life. Just like he had Jimmy’s.

    There were times when Maggy St. John felt like the land might consume her whole. It poured over her senses—all of them. Thesharp smell of sagebrush, the squeak of prairie dogs in the warm afternoon sun, and the wind, tasting of spring and new life, throwing tumbleweeds from one horizon to the next. The sight of the morning sun rising over the east, gold like syrup running over the bluffs and draws, and in the afternoon, kissing her face with warmth. She loved this land. And she hoped it loved her back.
    She tugged her beaten hat over her auburn braids, tightened the string under her chin, and gauged the clouds for rain. Cumulus had been gathering in the east, over Silver Buckle land all day, but they refused to unload their burden on any of their lands, greedy for the western mountains. Please, Lord, let it be a fertile summer. Growing up on the range, Maggy had seen many a drought but none like the last five years. The ground seemed dead, and the billows of dust in the wake of passing vehicles this early in the season set her jaw tight.
    “Ma, should I catch Suds for you?” CJ closed the door to the house behind him and met her at the edge of the porch. “Or do you want to ride my horse this afternoon?”
    Maggy smiled down at her ten-year-old, reaching out to wipe a smear of ketchup from his mouth.
    He jerked away. “Mom!”
    “I can’t believe you can even move after four hot dogs.”
    CJ laughed as he buckled the straps to his leather chaps. Thankfully, he had the energy of ten cowhands because she and her husband, Cole, counted on their son more than they ought. Especially now.
    Tugging on his hat, CJ stared out at the sky with the wisdom of a seasoned cowhand. His reddish brown hair stuck out the bottom of the hat, curling around his ears. Sometimes CJ looked more like Cole than she’d ever imagined he would.
    “We gotta get those heifers into the barn before the storm hits or they’ll panic and drop their babies out in the field.” He glanced at her as he tugged on his worn work gloves. “I’ll take Suds if you want.”
    “No, I’ll ride him. He’s just mad because I didn’t put him in with his girlfriend last night. They have a little thing going. He won’t buck me off again.” Her hip still hurt from the animal’s last temper tantrum.
    “What about riding Pecos?” CJ glanced at the paint that stood in the corral. The horse lifted his nose to smell the wind, as if longing for home.
    “Not yet.” Maybe never. She still couldn’t believe that Bishop Noble had gifted her the horse. Trying to repair the broken bridges. But they weren’t his bridges to repair, and well, sometimes things were better left broken.
    Maggy zipped her jacket tight against her chin, feeling the chill seep into her body. Today she wore her long