The Rancher's Return. Karen Whiddon
game—Deputy Sheriff George Putchinski was at it again.
Reed debated ignoring it, pretending he wasn’t home. But since his presence was obvious—with his pickup parked in his driveway and the TV turned up pretty loud—he hefted himself out of his chair and headed toward the door.
The first few times this had happened, when he’d opened the door to see a uniformed Anniversary deputy standing on his step, he’d been flabbergasted. Ten or fifteen instances later, he’d gotten his response down pat.
Swinging open the door, he started his spiel. “I didn’t do it. Whatever it was. Now go—”
He stopped. Stared. Not George. No, not even close. The gorgeous woman with the amazing blue eyes definitely wasn’t Reed’s nemesis. And yet she was.
He knew her instantly. Kaitlyn Nuhn had once been the girlfriend of his brother, Tim. In addition to that, she’d been the only person who’d known the truth, and who could have kept Reed from going to prison for his brother’s murder. The fact that she hadn’t, and disappeared instead, brought the anger back, full force. He nearly shut the door in her face.
By some instinct, he held back. Because maybe, after all this time, she’d give him a reason, some freaking closure. And possibly even a chance to finally clear his name and find out who had really shot Tim dead.
Heaven help him if she confessed it had been her.
As he stood staring, their gazes locked, he saw a flash of something in her eyes. He recognized it as pain, an emotion he’d felt often during the dark time he’d spent behind bars. If he hadn’t gotten out on appeal, he knew he would have gone crazy, locked away in hell for a crime he hadn’t committed.
“Kaitlyn Nuhn. I’ll be damned,” he said softly, raking his gaze over her as if he found her repulsive, when in fact it was the opposite. Just like always, his heart stuttered, his chest felt tight and he couldn’t speak. He clenched his fist around the doorknob, frozen with indecision, which pissed him off even more.
When he’d thought of her, which had been more often than he’d like to admit, he’d hoped time hadn’t been kind to her. Surely the ugliness inside had to have manifested in her looks, somehow.
Shocked, he now saw that hadn’t been the case. She still looked...unreal. Still as stunningly beautiful, as if she’d just stepped from the pages of some glossy magazine ad for women’s lingerie. Just as in the old days, the power of that beauty felt like a punch in the gut.
She didn’t speak. Just stood staring up at him, a combination of naked fear, sorrow or regret making hollows in her cheeks. He looked past her, noting the sleek silver luxury car. Why had she returned? To make an apology? She was way too late for that. Three years, to be exact. It would have been longer had it not been for his astute lawyer, the prosecution’s mistakes and lack of evidence.
But that didn’t negate the three years he’d spent in a hellhole, with his brother dead and not knowing who had killed him. Or the way people in this town still treated him like a killer, capable of gunning down his own twin brother.
“What do you want?” he asked, not bothering to be polite. He’d let her say her spiel, nod in response and close the door in her face. Then he’d go back to his football game and his ordinary, quiet life. And try to forget the way seeing her brought the past rushing back up.
“I came to tell you I’m sorry.” Her husky voice wavered and she swallowed, continuing to keep her gaze locked on his.
“Sorry?” He spat the word. “Too little, too late. Your apology means nothing to me.”
Bowing her head, she nodded, as if she’d expected this. “I’m sorry about what happened to you. That’s why I came back. I wanted you to know the truth, about all of it. I know who murdered Tim.” Pausing for breath, she kept her gaze locked on his. “And then he set you up to go to prison for it. He couldn’t keep you from filing the appeal or from getting out, but he tried.”
Of all the things she could have said, he hadn’t expected this. Worse, he didn’t believe her. Why should he, after all this time? “You also knew I couldn’t have done it. Especially since you’d left me in your bed, waiting for your return.”
Unbelievably, she blushed. “That was a mistake.”
“You’d better believe it was.” He met her gaze full on, letting his loathing show. “You were my only alibi, and you disappeared. And you know what? For the longest time, I thought you might have been who killed Tim.”
Recoiling as if he’d stabbed her, she stared at him. He only looked away when her bottom lip started trembling, furious with himself that he could still feel any emotion at all toward her.
“Why are you really here?” Reed took a step closer, aware he was clenching his hands into fists.
“I wanted to apologize. For everything. He set it up so that we’d blame each other.” She swallowed again, the movement drawing his gaze to her graceful throat. “I came as soon as I learned the truth.”
Part of him wanted to believe her. After all, he’d spent years wondering who’d really killed Tim and set Reed up to take the blame. Prison had given him time to burn for revenge.
And now, when Kaitlyn held out the information like a poisoned T-bone in front of a starving dog, he wasn’t sure what to believe. The past he’d shared with this woman had proven that she wasn’t to be trusted. No matter how great her beauty.
Finally, as he’d known he would, he went for the bone. “Who?” he rasped. “Give me the name.”
The fact that she still hesitated made another strike against her.
“The name,” he repeated.
She glanced at the doorway, almost as if she expected someone to come charging through and save her. Or knock her down.
Finally, she spoke. “Okay.” She met his gaze straight on and lifted her chin. “Alex Ramirez.”
At first he didn’t recognize the name. When he did, his first impulse was to think she was lying. “Lieutenant Governor Ramirez? The same guy who’s been talking about making a run for governor?”
“Yes.” Though her generous mouth thinned, making her appear miserable, she stood her ground. “That’s the one.”
He nearly snorted out loud. “Why him? And if you’re telling the truth, why didn’t you come forward before now?”
Again the hesitation. Just enough to make him question whatever she might say.
“I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” he fired back.
“Because I’ve been Alex’s prisoner for the last three years.” She took a little breath, blowing it back out her nose. “He likes to brutalize wounded things.”
Her words made no sense. “Why should I believe anything you have to say?” he said. “Don’t show up here and then try to play me for a fool.”
“I’m not, believe me.” Her chest heaved as she turned to go, drawing his unwilling gaze. “You know what? You’re right. I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
Something she’d said haunted him. “Wait,” he told her. “What do you mean about him liking to brutalize wounded things?”
Her blue eyes blazed—either with hope or with pain. In his mind, sometimes the two had become indistinguishable.
“Exactly what it sounds like. And now I’ve escaped. If he finds me, I’m a dead woman. Especially since I know what he’s done.”
Still not entirely convinced, nonetheless he stepped aside and motioned her into his living room. “Please. Come in.”
As she moved past him, he caught a whiff of her scent, which surprisingly reminded him of vanilla rather than the flowery perfume