Page 22 of Jagger
Cheyenne:I’ve been worried about you, and no one wants to be let off the hook. He fucked up and I’m not excusing what he said, but you need to talk to him. He’s been outside in the garage with Trent for the last few hours, beating himself up for what he said and how he reacted. Please, Jackie. Give him a chance to explain.
Shaking my head, I typed out my reply.
Me:He doesn’t need to explain. I know this past week was a mistake and I’m not a child that needs talking to. He’s free to do whatever he wants and to say whatever he wants. But I don’t have to listen.
Cheyenne:I know you’re hurt, but everyone makes mistakes. He just wants to make things right with you.
Me:There isn’t anything to make right. We had a good time this week, but I have a life here and he’s got his life there. This was a ‘relationship’ in name only and now it’s over. No harm, no foul, no worries.
I could see her typing something, so I quickly typed out another message.
Me:I need a nap after a long week, but I’ll call in a few days.
Turning my phone off, I placed it on the charger and laid down on my couch. After pulling the blanket off the back to cover my legs and grabbing a second pillow to hold in my lonely arms, I curled to face the back and closed my eyes, praying to the ancestors for peaceful sleep without visits from the spirits.
I didn’t need a guide to know my future.
I was going to be alone.
Chapter 12
Jackie
2 weeks later
Since I got home from Rapid City, I’d kept myself busy. There were hundreds of square miles to cover in the reservation, and ten days ago, after ducking phone calls and messages from Jagger, Cheyenne, and Granny, I decided I needed some peace and quiet to settle my mind.
Jagger had been typing these long messages. I never read them, but I didn’t delete them either. If I was going to stick to my resolve, I couldn’t listen to his explanations, but each new message was harder to ignore. Finally, I’d had enough from everyone, so I packed my car with a sleeping bag, food and water, some extra blankets for the colder nights, and my camera. After sending Cheyenne a message and letting Granny and my father know I was going into the back country, I got in my car and began to drive with no destination in mind.
I’d stopped in every little town, made sure to ask about issues in the area, and visited countless families who were slipping through the cracks. I wasn’t talking small cracks, but Grand Canyon sized cracks. Some households survived without running water and had to get their supply from a community well. Other houses had no plumbing and still used an outhouse. And there were some that didn’t have any food, relying on the generosity of others.
But I also saw houses that were nice and well maintained, with families that were flourishing, and it was the difference between the two that I wanted to showcase. I always made sureto speak with my father about what I saw, and he tried to divert resources to that area if it was within our borders. If it was another tribe, he spoke with their council. There were just too many who needed help and not enough to go around.
And I knew that was the way it was for every state in the country, but seeing my people struggling so hard made my heart heavy.
When I heard there was a big snowstorm moving into the area overnight and into the morning, I packed up my car and headed back to my house. My car did fine when the weather cooperated, but snow and ice would put me in a ditch, and possibly a grave. Once I got back into cell range, my phone chimed for close to fifteen seconds with all the missed messages.
I knew I couldn’t hide from my pain forever, and after the last ten days of witnessing people hurting worse than I could imagine, my broken heart seemed small in comparison. And more time had passed since that morning at the ranch than we were together to begin with, so it stood to reason that I was over him.
Deep down, I knew I really wasn’t, but on the surface, I looked like I was back to my old self.
Turning into my driveway, I saw something sitting on my front porch, and after parking and gathering my stuff, I walked up the steps. There was a box, and I looked to see who it was from as I unlocked the front door and tossed my stuff inside. Grabbing it from the porch, I carried it inside and took it to the kitchen before closing the front door and securing the locks.
It was then I noticed the first flakes of snow beginning to fall. There were still hours before the worst got here, but it looked like a dusting was about to happen.
“I timed that pretty good,” I said to the house as I carried my small backpack into the laundry room.
Dumping the dirty clothes from inside, I started the washer before going back to the kitchen. I glanced at the box as I started a cup of coffee, and when it was finished, I took a seat at the island and stared at it.
Something about it was off, but I didn’t know what it was. It was heavier than it looked like it should be, and there was a faint odor coming from it that wasn’t bad, nor was it good. Without any sender information or even a postmark, I began to wonder who it was from and what it could be.
My phone rang, and I picked it up to see Cheyenne calling. Exhaling, I plastered a smile on my face as I answered.
“Hello, cousin. How are you?”
“I’m worried about you, but that’s beside the point. Are you back at your house, or are you still in the back country?” she inquired.
“I got home fifteen minutes ago, but you beat me to letting you know I was home,” I returned, then asked, “Is everything okay?”
