Page 20 of Jagger
Just then, my phone chimed, and I pulled it out, hoping it was Jackie. Seeing a message from Roughstock, I opened the app and began to read.
Roughstock:Jackie was gone when we got back and one of the ranch hands said she was crying after you left. Cheyenne can’t get her on the phone, but we assume she’s gone up to the reservation.
Quickly, I typed out a response.
Me:I’m leaving Nana’s in a few and will try to call her. Will you ask Cheyenne to let me know if she hears from her?
Roughstock:I’ll try, but right now, my ol’ lady is pretty pissed at you. I understand what happened, but Jackie is delicate, even if she’s sometimes flowers and other times a bomb.
Pushing the phone into the pocket of my cut, I looked at Nana and stated, “I’m going to have a night duty nurse come by until you’re healed, and I won’t hear you decline. I need to know you’re okay, and if you don’t want me to take care of you, someone else will.”
She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she sighed and replied, “Whatever you think is best, Lincoln.”
Standing from my seat, I kissed her on the cheek and walked around to do the same with Ms. Johnson. “I need to get back to the ranch and handle business, but I’ll be by this evening to spend the night until we can interview services.” Looking down at Ms. Johnson, I asked, “Can you stay with her for a few hours until I get back?”
“I’ll make sure dinner is taken care of, in case you’re later than expected,” Ms. Johnson replied and added, “I’m really sorry if I caused you any trouble with your young lady. I . . . I was just so worried about your Nana.”
“I understand and don’t want you to worry about it. I’m just glad you were here for her when she needed someone the most.” I offered them both a small smile before walking out of the kitchen, through the front door, and straight to my truck.
Before getting into the truck, I took my cut off and laid it on the seat then pulled my shirt on. Putting my cut back on, I climbed into the truck and started the engine while I slipped my boots off and pulled my socks on. Pushing my feet back into the boots, I backed out of the driveway and onto the street as I thought about what I could say to get Jackie to forgive me.
Hell, I’d be happy with anything to just get her to listen without throwing a knife at me.
I hurt her with my words, and if she gave me a second chance, I’d never be cross with her again. But something told me it would be an uphill climb to regain her trust. It was a goodthing I was an athlete and a roughneck because uphill battles were right up my alley.
I drove through town, I began to devise a plan, hoping Cheyenne and Roughstock would help without throwing me off their front porch.
Chapter 11
Jackie
Istill hadn’t fully processed what transpired this morning as I pulled across the boundary that separated our tribal land from another nation’s land. The whole drive up, I’d been on autopilot, and as I got back to the familiar, I tried to push the warring emotions down.
Part of me was pissed at his accusation and dismissal of me. Another part was understanding of his worry for his Nana. I was the same way with Granny. Part of me wanted to hit him with my car, and another part wanted to forgive him without any fuss. But that was the weak me who had allowed men to walk over me for most of my life, and I’d told that me to fuck off.
My ex had done a number on my self-esteem, and Jagger dismissing me like I was nothing, like the moment we’d shared last night in the field while the universe blessed our union meant nothing, pissed me off. I knew I wasn’t the reason for his anger, but his ease in turning it on me and making me feel like I meant nothing hurt deeper than it should. I don’t know why someone I’d only been seeing, for lack of a better word, for a week had the ability to cut me deeper than the man I’d professed my love for all those years ago.
I was tired of the back and forth in my head, so on impulse, I turned down the road leading to Granny’s house. She was usually home this time of day, and just seeing her always made me feel better. Turing into her driveway, I parked my car and quickly turned off the engine before getting out. Her small figurestepped out of the front door with her hand over her eyes to block the sun, and when she saw me, she smiled.
“Hello, sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she remarked as I climbed the couple steps to her front porch.
Kissing her on the cheek, I forced a smile and replied, “I was on my way home from Rapid City and wanted to see how you’re doing.”
We walked inside, and I closed and locked the door behind us before following her into the kitchen. A pot of coffee was steaming on the counter, and Granny walked over and pulled a second cup down and filled them both. “Grab whatever you want in yours. I’m in the mood for caramel.”
Walking to the fridge, I grabbed the caramel creamer for her and some holiday stuff she had left from Christmas. Over the last few years, she’d gotten into all kinds of different flavors of coffee, creamer, blends, and brews, and honestly, it made me chuckle. There wasn’t anything resembling a big coffee chain on the reservation, but there were a few small ones with a good selection. Cheyenne and I had taken her to the grand opening of one a few years ago, and her obsession was born.
After topping our cups and returning the creamer to the fridge, I grabbed both cups and followed her to the small table near the window, where most of our important conversations happened. Placing her cup in front of her usual seat, I took my seat across from her and took a swallow of the delicious coffee.
“Mmm. What’s this one?” I asked as I placed my cup down.
“Something from Hawaii your father got me for Christmas. I like it, but it’s kind of plain, if you ask me.”
I wanted to laugh, but she was serious as she took a swallow and made an interesting face as she placed the cup down and turned her attention to me. “Tell me what he did.”
“What who did?” I asked, curious how she always seemed to know when something was going on.
I often wondered if she had some great connection to our ancestors, or if she was psychic. Pondering the implications of that possibility, I should have been surprised but wasn’t when she explained, “Your cousin called, worried that you’d left without telling anyone. She may have mentioned your young man was, in her words, an ass to you this morning. So, I’ll ask again. What did he do?”
