Free Reclaiming Nick by Susan May Warren Page A

along with his vet skills.
    He’d make sure CJ had that option if he wanted it. He’d put it in his will. Cole knew very little about the probate process—but even a rancher with a mere high school diploma knew that unless he had things spelled out, all his hopes for Maggy and CJ might get tied up in court. He wanted a clean start for her. He’d written everything down on the notebook paper in his pocket, outlining how she was to sell the land quickly and move to Arizona with her parents. CJ could attend a public school instead of doing his lessons on the kitchen table, and Maggy could finally join a big church, one that played all those praise songs she sang to the cows.
    Cole pulled into the yard, a little envious of Saul’s two-story home. He’d had the house trucked out from Sheridan and assembled on the property right after his boys graduated college, finally abandoning the family’s log cabin handed down from his wife’s parents. Cole remembered how Maggy’s eyes had shone as she described Loretta’s new house.
    Someday, Mags, someday.
    He parked behind a black Silverado and maneuvered himself out of the truck.
    A collie rose from the porch to meet him.
    He patted the dog and opened the door. “Saul?”
    “In here.” The voice came from the study, where Saul conducted his business.
    The house smelled of polish and cinnamon. Saul’s wife, Loretta, hummed from the kitchen as she whipped up cinnamon rolls. Theoak door to Saul’s office stood half closed, and for a second Cole wondered if he should knock. Instead, he pushed the door open with his crutch.
    Saul sat at his oak desk behind his computer, talking to a man seated in a leather side chair, his back to Cole.
    “Excuse me, Saul. I didn’t know you had—”
    Cole’s words died in his throat as Nick Noble turned and glared at his former best friend.

    Nick should have listened to his sister.
    “Nick, please don’t do this.” Stefanie’s plea this morning as he’d informed her of his plans shot through Nick’s mind as he stared at Cole. He’d filled out, his face harder, his shoulders wider. He watched Cole’s fists close on his crutch handles, saw the clenched unshaven jaw, noted the familiar glint of anger in his brown eyes.
    “You’re achin’ to blame someone, aren’t you?” Cole’s voice rushed at him in memory, and he shook it away.
    “What’s he doing here?” Nick growled, mostly to Saul, but if Cole heard, he didn’t care.
    “I could ask the same about you,” Cole growled back.
    Nick saw him inch forward. Closer, he looked pale and gaunt. For a second, worry sluiced through Nick. He ignored it and turned back to Saul. “We’re done here anyway.”
    Saul shook his head, defeat in his eyes.
    Nick didn’t care that the man had spent the last hour trying to convince him that Bishop Noble had been genuine in his desire to give the land to St. John. So what that Saul had questioned Bishop to ascertain his ability to make sound decisions?
    Nick knew that Cole had coerced Bishop to lie even to his best friend.
    But the truth would find Cole out. Nick planned on filing the petition today and would spend every millisecond between now and the date of the hearing proving what he knew with ever fiber of his soul—that Cole St. John was a thief.
    After what Stefanie had told him last night, Nick labeled Cole even more of a thief than he had before.
    Nick stood and snatched his hat from the desk. “This isn’t over.” He turned and waited for Cole to clear the door before brushing past him without another word.
    He felt Cole’s eyes on him as he left. Cole had always given off a holier-than-thou vibe and used it with precision when he wanted to bring Nick to task. Dudley Do-Right, Nick had called him.
    In high school Nick had blamed the do-gooder niceness on the fact that Cole didn’t have a father to teach him backbone, and he and his mother were at church every time the doors opened and then some. No wonder Maggy always