Reclaiming Nick (34 page)

She gave a cry of disbelief. “Why do you think? Because . . . I . . .” She turned away, unable to say the words. Because I was ashamed of myself. Because I loved you, and I couldn’t watch you hate me. She shook her head. “Because I was sorry, but I didn’t know how to say that.”

She heard him put his hat on the counter. Felt his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened.

“You said it now.”

She shrugged.

“Did you come to the Silver Buckle to spy on me, Piper? to get me to say that I framed your brother?”

Piper closed her eyes.

“Oh, George.” Nick turned her around, lifted her chin, but she couldn’t look at him. She stared instead at his chin. At the smattering of dark whiskers. “I wish you’d trusted me. Given me the benefit of the doubt.” He blew out a breath. “I learned the hard way that jumping to conclusions only leads to pain. I would have listened.”

“Would you have forgiven me?” She hated how feeble her voice sounded.

“I would have. And I have.”

Her eyes flickered up to his. She frowned, trying to comprehend his words.

He cupped his hand to her cheek, running his thumb down it. “Don’t you get it, Piper? God used you to help me see what He had
for me. All that I could have, all that I’d missed out on. The ranch, a life. A family. I fell in love with you.”

She felt her emotions flicker across her face, her resolve start to shatter. She touched his chest, flattening both palms against it, knowing she should push him away but longing with everything in her to curl inside his protective embrace. “Nick . . .”

“You probably think I don’t know the real you, Piper, but I do. I know that you’re tenderhearted, and you fight for what you believe in. I know that you have wounds, but you’re reaching past them to help others. I know that you’re a hard worker, you’re so stubborn I’d like to strangle you, and you have a wallop of a roundhouse kick.”

She smirked.

“I know that you are afraid of getting hurt, but you put yourself at risk for other people . . . otherwise you wouldn’t have stuck around the hospital for three days just because I asked you to—”

“They had real food—”

“I know that you have a wicked throw, and you’re willing to learn new things even if you’re afraid, like riding a horse or cooking. I also know that you love the Buckle. I saw it in your face, in your eyes. And most of all, I know you love me too.”

His words had tangled her emotions in knots. Now she felt a spurt of panic. “How—?”

“I read your article. I’ve had a lot of names thrown at me over the years . . . but hero has never been among them. Thank you.”

“Nick, you are a hero. You’re brave and kind, and you do the right thing. You made me believe that a man could be honorable. Noble.” Her mouth tweaked up at her words. “There’s something else too.
Remember when you said that you thought God had brought you to the Buckle to find me?” She felt herself begin to tremble, but she had to get the words out. “I think He wanted me to find you, too, and to learn that He’d been looking out for me all along. That He could heal me and give me a fresh start.”

She shrugged, trying to deny the impact of her words, but his eyes misted, and it curled a wave of warmth inside her. Yes, God had sent her to find Nick. And so much more.

Nick’s gaze traced her eyes, a look filled with amazement, with hope, with desire. Then he cradled her face in both hands and kissed her. Sweetly, gently, the essence of the man she’d come to know.

She closed her eyes and kissed him back. Nick. He tasted of sweet coffee, of sunshine, and of strength and hope.

Nick pulled away, just enough to lean his forehead to hers. “I love you, Piper. And I know this is a lot to ask, but please, will you come back to the Silver Buckle with me?”

Piper backed away, a slight frown on her face. “As a cook?”

He broke into a grin. “No! For an investigative reporter, you have trouble putting the facts together.” He caught her hands, then knelt on one knee before her.

Every muscle inside Piper stiffened, caught in shock.

“Piper George Cookie Sullivan, will you marry me?”

Silence trickled out as she stared at him, her mouth falling open.

“Yes! Say yes!” Carter yelled from the other room.

A smile slid up Nick’s face.

Heat filled Piper’s cheeks, but tears pricked her eyes. Marry Nick? The arrogant, swaggering outlaw who’d broken through
her defenses, roped her heart, and stolen it clean out of her chest? Could she be his wife, let him be her hero?

“Your faith has made you well. Go in peace.” A wave of heat, of realization, of something that tasted like joy swept through her. God had redeemed her, healed her . . . and now crowned her with love. He’d sent her to the wide spaces of the Silver Buckle to break through the pain and fears that had held her prisoner for so long, to a new life. A life of love, a life of healing. A big sky kind of life.

Piper’s nod started small, her smile peeking through the layers of fear to emerge full out and whole. “Yes, Nick. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Nick’s expression left her breathless. He stood and swept her up, holding her tight. He smelled like his own brand of cologne—leather and hard work and sunshine and laugher and passion. “You are the proof that God is compassionate and abounding in love.” He buried his head into her neck. “I love you, Curious George.”

“I love you too, Nick.” Piper leaned back, catching his face in her hands, and kissed him. Thoroughly. Freely.

Without fear.

When she released him, his eyes twinkled. “But you have to make me one promise.”

She raised her eyebrows, one eye tightening. “What?”

“Please, please let me do the cooking.”

A N
OTE FROM THE
A
UTHOR

I have two friends. Let’s call them Jim and John. Both are great guys, men I grew up with. They’re friends. One day Jim gets sick. He’s sick for a long time until the doctors discover he has liver failure. He has a beautiful wife and four sweet children. Jim is dying, and without a liver transplant, he won’t live to see his children grow up. His entire family (and it’s a large one) is tested. No one is a match. A prayer request goes out to churches far and wide. For two years nothing happens.

Then one day John, who has been praying for Jim, decides to go to the doctor and get tested to see if he’s a match. Miraculously, though they are unrelated, he matches. Although he has a wife and three little boys, John decides to give part of his liver to Jim. John spends the next year preparing for this surgery, taking care of himself, eating right. And then one day he risks his life to save the life of his friend.

Jim lives. John lives. And it makes me ponder the gift of grace—what it means to give—and receive.

Meanwhile, I am studying Philippians—especially verse 1:6: “I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” I’m overjoyed with a God who is constantly at work in my life, through all times and circumstances, and I wonder what that might look like from the view of a person with a tainted past, whatever that might be.

For a year, God kept bringing these two events to my mind, tangling them with the love I have of all things cowboys (trucks, horses, country music). Then one day . . . I went fishing. While I was trying to land a walleye, I told my fishing pals (Dan, Bob, and Andrew—yeah, I see the oddball in the group) about my story. I discovered that Bob just so happened to live on a ranch.

A year later I found myself on a ranch outside a little town called Otter, Montana. I fell in love with the big sky, the quiet wind, the wide-open spaces, and the passage I was studying at the time—Psalm 103—came to life for me. As I stood on the bluffs, I got a glimpse of what it might mean for God to separate us from our sins so much that we can no longer even see them! And loving us beyond even the heavens. Right there, Nick’s story took life.

Reclaiming Nick is about God drawing a man back to the person he could be, helping him reclaim the legacy he’d lost, and then giving that blessing to others. It’s a story for all of us really. The truth is that God throws out our mistakes “as far from us as the east is from the west” and allows us to start over. Again and again, if necessary. It is possible to be healed in our spirits, like the woman who touched Jesus’ robe. Or like Cole, with new life inside.

God is at work in our lives. This is both a hope and a promise. And most importantly a gift of grace. I pray that you are able to get a view of His love for you, through all circumstances, all times.

Thank you for reading Reclaiming Nick. I hope you’ll join me for the next installment of the Noble Legacy—Rafe’s story. In the meantime, “Praise the Lord, everything he has created, everything in all his kingdom.” As for me—I too will praise the Lord!

God bless you!

In His grace,

Susan May Warren