Atonement by Winter Austin Read Free Book Online

her chair. “That’s what they all say.”
    He shut down his computer, then set his chair rolling, leaving the seat. With his department ball cap settled on his dark hair, Walker stomped to the door and shoved his way outside.
    Nic watched him leave, her satisfaction in jabbing a verbal knife into his back turning into bitter regret. Deep in her guts a quiver started. Swallowing, she closed her eyes and cradled her head. It was getting the better of her again. This disease spread its claws through her soul. She shuddered and lifted her head.
    For three years, she’d beat it off. Managed to bury the ugliness that had taken over her. The scope was supposed to keep the veil there for her. Somehow, in the course of the years, it had lost its power. She’d joined the victim at the other end of her barrel.
    A pink stain on the wall.
    • • •
    Her boot braced on the bottom rung, arms crossed on the top, Nic settled her chin on her hands and watched her boss in the center of the pen. A blue roan trotted around him, its movements like fluid. Dust puffed around the horse’s hooves. Nic could appreciate the horse’s beauty in motion and well-proportioned body. The roan made a great Western stock horse, but it wasn’t a mount that Nic—personally—would find herself riding.
    Hamilton glanced over his shoulder, nodded, and returned his focus to the horse.
    Nic leaned against the wood panels. No sense letting her boss see that yesterday’s shooting, last night’s binge, and today’s events had ill effects on her. Hamilton took care of his deputies, but he tolerated little.
    He smooched, and his horse increased the pace to a lope. The blue roan’s muscles flexed and smoothed as it circled the pen. Nic picked up the tang of sweat as the horse swept past her.
    The sheriff had asked her out here, and he’d yet to bring up his reasons. Nic’s suspicions were getting the better of her. Did he know? Had O’Hanlon told?
    Out of uniform and wearing filthy Wranglers and a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, Shane Hamilton appeared too young to be a four-term sheriff. The voters of McIntire County liked the former two-time champion bareback and bronc rider. He had a way with horses, and people.
    The blue roan ceased its circle around Hamilton and strolled toward the center of the ring. Hamilton stroked the horse’s neck, gave it a pat, and then he exited the round pen. “With me, Rivers.”
    She met him at the gate and fell in step as he walked to his barn. Tension rolled off him. Nic clicked her teeth together. He knew.
    “How long we known each other, Nic?” He shoved the barn door aside; the rollers creaked.
    The use of her first name unsettled her. Oh, God, he was going to suspend her from the job. “Three years.”
    He stepped into the darkened interior. “In that time, did I ever steer you wrong?”
    Her hand shot out, snagging his shirt sleeve, and she dragged him to a stop. “Sir, I don’t beat around the bush. Whaddya want?”
    Flicking back the brim of his Stetson, his brown eyes bored holes in her. “What did I tell you yesterday before you talked to the attorney?”
    “No regrets.”
    “No regrets,” he said with her. Hamilton sighed. “Rivers, what the hell happened last night?”
    Heat flashed into her face. “O’Hanlon told you?”
    “O’Hanlon knows, too?”
    Ramming her hands in the back of her Wranglers, Nic blocked out Hamilton’s stare. “Shit.”
    “Start talking.”
    Her gaze darted from the round pen with the blue roan to her Jeep parked in the drive. She slid a hand over her hair, catching it on the ponytail. “How do you know something happened last night?”
    He shook his head, the hint of humor twitching on his lips. “Your reaction. Hell, you’re an easy read.” He bumped a hip into a door. The heady scent of horse, manure, and the sweetness of hay buffeted her face. “Can’t believe Con O’Hanlon is privy to whatever you did.”
    “Me either,” she muttered.
    While