Reclaiming Nick (20 page)

He rolled his eyes, but they twinkled. “I also remember Dutch finding us more than once.”

Dutch had also found her with Nick. But the stoic cow boss had never said a word. The man knew way too many Noble family secrets. But he’d kept them all. Someday she’d thank him for that.

“You didn’t have to sleep out here, Cole.”

He made to sit up. “I wanted to. You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

She pushed herself off him without comment. They both knew how much she did alone. “Did CJ get settled in?”

“I assume so. He’s a big kid. Told me last night that he’s been roping with Nick.”

She stiffened, trying to read Cole’s expression.

He blew out a breath, and she recognized a forced smile. “If anyone can teach him to rope, it’s Nick.”

“I was going to tell you, Cole, but I didn’t want you to get upset.”

He shook his head even before she finished. “I’m not upset, Mags. If CJ wants to win, Nick can help him. I was never the roper Nick was.”

She knew what he was really saying: I was never the man Nick was.

Her throat tightened. “That’s not true. You were every bit as good as Nick. You won together as I remember. I was so proud of you.”

His eyes didn’t meet hers. “You were there for Nick.”

“I was there for both of you. Besides, Nick didn’t even notice me.” She cupped Cole’s face, turning it toward her. “But I remember when you rode around the ring. You looked for me in the stands and waved right at me. Don’t you remember that?”

Cole gave a slight nod. “I didn’t think you remembered.”

“Cole, don’t you know that I always noticed what you did? You made a point of seeing me. Of listening to me. Of making me feel as if I alone made you smile.”

Her words didn’t seem to penetrate. Reaching out for the stall wall, Cole wrestled himself to his feet. She swallowed the pain of seeing him struggle, wanting to cry.

“Did you see Nick last night?” he asked, breathing hard.

“He was there. Acted like he didn’t know a thing about the baby.”

Cole looked at her, and she couldn’t bear the concern on his face. “Maybe he doesn’t know.”

“How could he not? You were there. You helped me leave the note.”

“He was angry. Maybe he never saw it.” Cole hung on the walls as he dragged himself to his crutches. He walked like an eighty-year-old cowboy. “We need to find out if he knows.”

“No, we don’t. You’re my husband. You’re the father of my son. That’s all I care about. It doesn’t matter if Nick ever finds out—”

“It does matter, Mags.” His voice had softened almost to a groan. “Especially now.”

Maggy felt his words like a brand on her soul. “What are you talking about?”

He leaned on his crutches, turned to her. “I think you need to give Nick a chance to apologize.”

She stared at him, horrified. “Who are you? Don’t you remember the feel of his fist on your face? remember what he did to your mother?”

“Nick isn’t to blame for Mom’s death. We all knew she wasn’t well.” He didn’t look at Maggy as he spoke. “And Nick’s back for better or worse. We have to accept it and let him back into our lives.”

Her voice lowered. “Do you remember what I said to you the night CJ was born?”

Cole swallowed and looked away.

“I told you that God loved me because He gave me a husband who wouldn’t leave me. Who loved me better than himself. And that I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t want Nick then . . . and I don’t want him now.”

“You deserve better than me.” He turned to leave. “You deserve a man who can take care of you.”

“No, I don’t!” She ran to intercept him, grabbing his crutch. “Yes, I need you here on the ranch, making it work. But I need you for more than that. You alone know the mistakes I made, and you loved me in spite of them.”

Cole met her eyes, and she saw in them their past, that night when she’d realized not only that Nick wasn’t coming back but that Cole had found his way into her heart.

The night she’d accepted his marriage proposal. He’d looked at her the same way then—with the suspicion that her words were born from desperation.

He broke her gaze. “I loved you with your mistakes, Mags.”

“I know, Cole.” She stepped close and grasped his jean jacket, pulling his lapels. He still felt strong and capable. She wrapped her hands around his waist and put her head on his chest.

One arm came around her, and for a long while, he just held her. She listened to his heartbeat and wished that once more Dutch might find them in the hay.

Finally, he lifted his head and touched her chin, raising her face to his. “Mags, I want you to promise me something.”

She frowned, his expression scaring her.

“If something happens to me, I want you to sell the ranch. Go south to Arizona and be with your parents. Send CJ to a great college. And remarry.”

She felt as if he’d reached down and scooped all her insides out.

Then his eyes darkened, and his expression turned hard. “Or if you want, you should marry Nick.”

CHAPTER 14

E
ARLY DAWN REVEALED
the carnage of the stampede. With the sunrise spilling over the prairie, lighting it nearly afire, Nick and Stefanie totaled their losses. The Buckle had lost at least eight calves and four cows. Nick waved his lariat, whistling as he dogged the stray cattle back toward the camp. They’d scattered in the draws and gullies, many of them wounded, some caught in brush.

After spending part of the night with Piper in his arms, Nick also felt disoriented, tangled in unfamiliar feelings. She hadn’t kissed him again—and he wasn’t about to try after the horrified look on her face—but she had let him hold her and had finally fallen asleep. That felt strange. Not because his arm had fallen asleep, but because he well remembered the last time he’d held a sleeping woman. All he’d been thinking then was what if his father found them, if his mother could see him from heaven, and how guilty he felt for talking Maggy into something they both knew was wrong.

But sitting in the cab of the truck last night, cradling Piper, none of those feelings had assaulted him. In fact, as he’d smoothed her
hair and tried not to jostle her, he felt as if maybe—finally—he’d done something right.

When light crept over the horizon, he’d settled her onto the seat and climbed out of the mangled truck. Dutch caught up with him, and they’d spent the next three hours rounding up the horses and taking a head count of the cattle. Thankfully, all the hands were accounted for—Pete and Quint and Andy and the three from the other ranch who had stayed to help them today. Nick felt nearly hollow with relief that Maggy and CJ had gone home. The kid had gotten inside him just a little—perhaps in CJ’s eagerness, Nick had seen a smidgen of his own youthful zeal.

“C’mon, doggie,” Nick hollered as he drove a handful of cows and calves toward the rest of the herd, not penned but grazing happily and monitored by the few hands on horseback. Stefanie or Old Pete had rebuilt the fire pit, and he smelled coffee brewing. Whistles and calls, the sounds of a dog barking, laced the air.

The chuck wagon had taken a hit—its wheel had cracked in two places, and Nick would have to unload it and transport the wagon on a flatbed to get it home. Dishes and utensils littered the ground, Piper’s delicious biscuits trampled into the grass.

He spied Piper collecting the debris as he rode closer. Herding the cattle toward the others, he turned his horse toward camp, dismounted, and tied the bay to the chuck wagon.

Piper didn’t look at him while she loaded tin plates and cups into her apron, then dumped them into the washbasin.

He picked up a runaway pot and tossed it into the wagon. “You in one piece this morning, Piper?” He walked over to her and helped her gather silverware.

She nodded but still didn’t look at him.

“Everything okay, George?” He reached for her, but she skittered away. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Only her voice didn’t sound like nothing. It was sharp and nasty.

He caught up with her, touched her elbow.

This time, she turned and looked at him. She’d been crying. But this wasn’t the sad, nearly frantic grief of last night. Piper gave him a look of pure fury.

Ouch. He dropped her elbow and stepped back. “Please tell me that you’re not mad at me.”

She looked momentarily shocked, then shook her head. “Dutch said that someone started this stampede on purpose.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. Since when did Dutch turn chatty?

“He said gunshots scared the cattle into running. I’ll bet that if we look around, we’ll find hoofprints of the culprit at the far edge of the field.”

“Hoofprints? You are cognizant of the fact that cows have hooves, right?”

She glared at him, hands on her hips. She had a smudge of dirt across her cheek, and her hair had been blown by the wind. He couldn’t help a sudden burst of affection for her.

“Don’t patronize me. You yourself said that Cole wanted this ranch. And didn’t Stefanie say that a bunch of cattle had mysteriously died in Hatcher’s field? Is it outside the realm of possibility that someone might try and make you lose more cattle? Look at this!” She spread her hands, and he saw her emotions flash across her face at the destruction. “It’s wrong.”

“I think you’re jumping to conclusions, Lois Lane. Yes, I was
there, and they sounded like shots, but sometimes cowboys shoot their guns as a warning.”

“And how many of the hands had guns on them last night? Excuse me for noticing, but this isn’t the OK Corral. People don’t walk around with guns at their hips anymore.”

Nick hid a smirk. “No, but an occasional cowboy carries a rifle. More do now that we’ve had wolves and coyotes in the area.”

“I thought you’re not allowed to shoot wolves.”

What was with this woman? “No one stampeded the cattle. It was an accident, and while I do believe Cole wants this property, I highly doubt he’d try and kill us to get it.”

In fact, he was sure of it. His own words shook him. He’d been so sure that Cole had hornswoggled his father out of the land. But was that the Cole he’d known, had grown up with?

He took off his glove and lifted his hand to wipe off the smudge on Piper’s cheek. She stood there, her lips pursed, looking so sure of herself he had to laugh.

“I appreciate the indignation, but really, Piper, I think this was just an accident. Let’s not round up the lynch mob yet.”

She regarded him with narrowed eyes.

“I think you need a hat. Help cool you off.”

She harrumphed and shook her head.

Nick looked up, hearing hooves.

Andy rode in, towing a horse behind him. A paint, an overo with white legs and body, and a splash of black across his back.

Nick felt paralyzed watching the animal, everything inside him burning. No, it couldn’t be . . . “Andy, where did you get that horse?” He heard the catch in his voice and cleared his throat.

“Found him back behind the herd. Must have broken away from the cavvy during the ruckus.”

Nick moved toward the animal, his hands out so the horse could watch him approach. As he drew closer, he thought he saw recognition flicker in the animal’s blue eyes. His throat constricted. “This horse wasn’t in the cavvy.”

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.