Chapter 7 Jesse
JESSE
I knew Hestia likely needed some space, just to process everything that had happened at the sale. So that was my excuse for avoiding her, not wanting to add to her mental burden or make her feel like she owed me in any way. But the truth was . . . I couldn’t do it.
Couldn’t speak to her without wanting to touch her, kiss her, hold her again.
It had been days since the sale, but even now, as I knelt by the side of the part-completed deck of Lottie’s cabin, I could still feel the impression of her body against me in the back of Bailey’s truck.
The smell of her hair, soft and sweet, like the late summer wildflowers that blanketed the meadow beyond the lake ahead.
The way she’d gripped my hands, as though I was the only thing tethering her to this earth.
For about the tenth time in half an hour, I looked around the side of the cabin and towards the barn where she was sitting on a low stool, her back against the open barn door.
Legs out and ankles crossed, she was sketching intently, barely aware of anything else.
Occasionally her hand trailed across her chest, glossy black nails tracing invisible lines around the Sleepy Hollow figure.
I knew it was irrational, but rage began to build yet again at the memory of her pain, the tremor in her voice when she told me the meaning of that particular tattoo. Her silence when I asked who had made her feel that way.
Was that same person the reason why she felt compelled to rescue that horse? That meant she was disbelieving when I asked her to meet my family? That’d caused her to have anxiety attacks and deal with them alone?
The urge to find whoever had hurt her, even so much as looked at her the wrong way, and beat the living ever-loving shit out of them was overpowering.
I swore under my breath, almost accidentally firing the nail gun into my damn boot.
‘I’m taking a break,’ I grunted at Cole, putting it down before I actually did some damage. ‘Want a drink? I’m going up to the house.’ A sudden idea hit as he nodded, his brow furrowed as he registered my expression. ‘Is Lottie up there?’ I added, waiting for his nod before turning.
‘You okay? Finish up if you want, it’s been a long day,’ Cole called out, but I shook my head and carried on up the path, taking the shortcut over the grass ridge to reach the main drive, avoiding the temptation of looking down towards the barn.
Work was the only thing keeping me sane right now.
If I had nothing to do, then . . . I screwed my eyes shut for a moment against the memory of how her hands felt in mine, the look of open affection and trust in her eyes when we’d last spoken.
‘Hey! Just the guy,’ Lottie said as I reached the kitchen, taking off my hat with a sigh. ‘What do you think . . .’ She trailed off as I strode over to the fridge, pulling out a can of soda.
I turned to her, concern in her eyes as she stared.
‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘Are you okay? Is Cole . . .?’
I nodded, opening the can and taking a gulp of the cold, sugary sweetness, hoping it’d take the edge off the oppressive feeling.
‘We’re fine, it’s just –’ I bit my lip, suddenly wondering if this was a good idea, before my anger reminded me it was. ‘I have a question about Hestia. One that I don’t want to upset her by asking.’
Lottie’s eyes widened for a moment as she perched on the edge of the kitchen table, hands on the edge.
‘Okaaay,’ she replied, clearly curious but also wary.
The real question lay thick on my tongue, the one about why Hestia felt so alone, why she so clearly pushed people away. With one exception, seemingly. The one staring at me like a startled deer.
‘When we came back from the sale,’ I began instead, trying to keep my voice level, trying to guard myself from the swell of emotion in the pit of my stomach, ‘she told me the story behind her Sleepy Hollow tattoo. Right after we had to pull over when she had some kinda anxiety attack.’ Lottie’s face crumpled, turning to look at the floor as her hands gripped the table.
‘I asked her who had made her feel afraid . . . but she wouldn’t answer me.
Couldn’t, I don’t think. But I – I want to know, even though .
. .’ I paused, hating how the next part of my thought process made me feel.
‘Even though maybe I can’t do anything about it.
I just want to understand, make sure I never do anything that might trigger her in that way again. ’
Lottie nodded slowly, meeting my eyes.
‘You really like her, don’t you?’ she asked, voice as gentle as her eyes as she studied me.
I held them, nodded just once as my jaw clenched.
‘I’m not sure what she’d want me to share, but I know you, and I know .
. . she trusts you.’ She sighed, moving her hair from her face, letting it fall over her left shoulder as she frowned.
‘It was her stepfather that made her feel like that,’ she added, almost wincing as she stared into the space between us.
‘You might’ve heard what an almighty asshole my dad can be from Cole, but Hestia’s stepfather .
. . he’s a whole other level of nasty prick. ’
My grip tightened on the can, and I knocked the rest of it back before I could crush it, placing it down on the counter.
‘Did he hurt her?’ I growled, dreading the answer, unsure how I’d be able to contain myself if . . .
‘No, not physically,’ she confirmed, watching me carefully. ‘It was all emotional, headfucks and manipulation. Probably not a surprise that she ended up with a hot mess like Cal.’
I clenched my fists.
‘And has he . . .’ I started, relief coursing through me as she quickly shook her head.
‘All emotional, again. But it means . . . well, you’ve seen what it means,’ she shrugged. ‘She’s been alone, in her own head, for a long time. She let me in, thank fuck, but with men . . . I don’t know.’
I nodded again, raking back my hair and reaching for my hat, checking the time on my phone and realizing I was going to be late.
‘Shit,’ I muttered. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to meet someone, lost track of time . . . Listen, don’t tell her I asked. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. It’s just . . .’ I sighed, knowing how it would sound.
‘It’s okay, I get it,’ Lottie ventured with a small smile full of the natural kindness we’d all come to know and love about her – one of the many reasons Cole was willing to work to the bone every day on her behalf. ‘You don’t have to explain.’
I gave her a grateful smile, putting on my hat as I stepped back out and walked over to my truck.
Half an hour later, I pulled up outside a small two-storey house on the other side of Jackson, looking out at the surrounding land.
‘Jesse, right?’ The realtor emerged from inside the house as I mounted the steps to the porch, shaking my hand before gesturing to the land. ‘Prime grazing – you thinking of keeping animals?’
I nodded, not wanting to give him any ammo to reinforce his sales pitch.
‘Does this back onto Elk Creek?’ I asked, suddenly realizing I recognized the far ridge, the tree line that eventually rounded the mountainside over towards the Diamond Back.
‘It’s part of it, actually,’ the realtor confirmed. ‘The last person to live here had worked on the main ranch for years. Left it to his daughter, but she’s over in California, so no need for it.’
I nodded, taking a last look at the house as I held out my hand again.
‘Well, I’m sorry to waste your time, in that case,’ I replied. ‘I don’t do business with Elk Creek.’ He hesitated before taking it again, mouth half open. ‘I’d love to say it wasn’t personal, but it is. I’d rather set fire to my money than hand it over to a Sinclair.’
I tipped my hat, taking no small pleasure in his stunned disbelief as I started up the truck and rolled straight back out.
It cushioned the deflated feeling, the one that’d wondered if this was finally the opportunity to start out for myself, finally use all the carefully amassed savings from my bull riding winnings and buy my own place.
The hazy, half-assed vision of bringing Mom over to show her, seeing the pride in her face and relief at knowing I was settled, no matter how things turned out with her health .
. . It faded away with the daylight that was gradually retreating behind the peaks beyond.
But fuck it – nothing was worth buying from the asshole who’d tried his level best to fuck Lil over, and her mom, Carrie, before her.
I shrugged it off, gunning it back down the highway, somehow not quite ready to go to the ranch.
The fact was that property around Jackson was expensive, the holiday rentals and second homeowners long having pushed up prices.
There were still Jackson residents willing to only sell to other full-time residents – like the house I’d just visited – but the places were few and far between.
As I approached the Diamond Back turning, I didn’t slow.
Instead, with a vague plan to head down and drop in on Jace, my ex-rodeo buddy, I carried on.
I pictured telling him the problem, knowing exactly how he’d respond: So quit fucking belly-aching and get back on a bull.
Win your way to a bigger choice of places round here.
I slowed the truck, pulling off into the opening of a long drive on the right, turning the thought over and over.
Could I do it again? Mom was stable now, a system in place, albeit with expensive medication to keep her going.
Finally glancing up, I realized the drive was the one that led down to Harebell, the hunting and fishing lodge built by Lottie’s grandfather, still owned by the Diamond Back.
Seconds later, like a starting gun going off in my head, I got out my phone and made the first of two calls, smiling as the first picked up, the sound of a voice I hadn’t heard in over a year.