Convictions Read Online Free PDF Page A

horse trailer bump down the driveway.
    Breathing a sigh of relief that Elliott was gone and the yard was now deserted, she replied, "Yes. It's nice to be outside."
    Although he didn't say anything, Olivia knew her father was pleased that she didn't scurry back into her hidey-hole. She linked her arm with his, and he patted her hand as they continued walking.
    "Where are they going?" she asked, motioning toward the departing pickup and trailer.
    "Antler Creek. Some cattle are getting out in that area. They're going to gather up the strays, then find the break in the fence."
    "I'm surprised you let Elliott go with them. Aren't you afraid he'll keep riding?"
    "No. He won't chance ruining the possibility of getting out a few months early. Besides, he's already proven himself. Right after he got here."
    "When he saved the farrier?"
    "You saw that?"
    "I was looking out the window," she admitted.
    "Then you know he put himself in danger to help a stranger. In my book, that's not the act of your typical convict."
    "Maybe he only did it to gain your trust." Olivia wasn't about to let Hank Elliott off the hook that easily.
    Her father shrugged. "It's possible, but it seemed more instinctive than calculated."
    Olivia pressed her lips together, not accepting the prisoner's supposedly selfless motives as quickly as her father. She had yet to meet a convict who didn't have an agenda, an angle. She'd discover Elliott's, one way or another.
     
    "Break's over. Back to work."
    Hank stifled a groan and pushed away from his comfortable lean against a cottonwood. After being in the saddle for four hours, it had felt damned good to be standing on his own two feet.
    Keeping his discomfort and thoughts hidden, he tightened his saddle cinch and mounted. His thigh muscles protested, but he ignored them.
    "Ready to return to your comfy cell, Elliott?"
    Hank schooled his face into a blank mask and turned to his persecutor. Rollie. No surprise there. Rollie had been riding his ass ever since Hank started working at the ranch. The man was a bully with a gut that hung over his belt and mean snake eyes.
    "Why don't you crawl back into the hole you came from?" Hank asked conversationally.
    Rollie's eyes narrowed as he smiled coldly. "You think you got it made with the boss, but I wouldn't bet on it. Once a con, always a con. Something happens, and you're gonna be the first person everyone turns on."
    "You threatening me?"
    "That ain't a threat. Just a friendly warning."
    "Knock it off, ladies. We've got work to do," Buck said, riding up behind them.
    Hank nodded at the foreman, glad for the interruption. He nudged his horse away from Rollie. Hank had allowed his prison-learned defenses to slip. Being away from the palpable violence and hopelessness behind the walls, Hank could almost imagine he was back in the world he'd grown up in. But Rollie had reminded him it was only an illusion.
    Kincaid's daughter was also a reminder of his less-than-human status. He hadn't seen a woman like her in over six years, and his body wasn't shy about reminding him how long it'd been since he'd been laid. Those snug blue jeans hugging her pert ass and the blouse that did little to hide her firm, high breasts had him as hard as an iron bar in record time.
    But the disgust in her eyes told Hank she didn't share her father's sense of fairness, and that it'd be a cold day in hell before she shared her bed with someone like him. Not that he blamed her. Like Rollie said, once a con, always a con.
    Still, Hank couldn't dismiss Olivia Kincaid that easily from his thoughts. In addition to disgust, he'd recognized fear in her eyes. Fear and pain. Someone had hurt her. Badly. A swell of protectiveness cracked through his bitter wall.
    A cow burst out of some brush, and Hank was grateful for the distraction.
    He didn't want to feel anything for Olivia Kincaid... or anyone else.
     

Chapter Three
    Olivia limped into the kitchen minus her cane and was greeted with the radio announcer's,