Magaskawee’s look volleyed uncertainly from the door to the alleyway and back again.
“What’s your name?” he gently prodded.
“Magaskawee Whitefeather.”
“Hello there, Magaskawee. My Name’s Jack … Jack Winston.” Then he nodded to the big guy who was still standing between her and the door to the alley. “And this beast here with the winning personality is my buddy, Prosper. We’re gonna take care of this. Then we’re gonna see that your brother gets home safe and sound. You’re gonna be home waiting to see that he does, yeah?”
“There’s probably a lot of them out there,” Maggie warned. “They’re vicious and dangerous. They’re the kind of men who carry knives and—”
“Ah, darlin’, no worries,” Jack interrupted her, still wearing that winning grin. “Me and my boys? We eat their kind for breakfast.” Jack gave Maggie that winning smile again. “Now, you go on home and your brother will be there before you know it. Can you do that for me, Magaskawee? Can you go on home and let us handle this for you?”
Magaskawee looked into those topaz-blue eyes and could do no more than nod. Then she let Jack take the bat from her and lead her out the door, because in that moment, Magaskawee Whitefeather would have agreed to just about anything Jack Winston asked her to do.
“Going to be a beautiful day!”
“Yes, I believe it is, Nizhoni!” Magaskawee smiled at her friend. Nizhoni made little clay pots, and her husband, Mato, painted them. They had the space next to her, but there were other crafters set up on the road as well. They were a closely knit community, all of whom lived on the reservation and made their living selling handcrafted items. Turquoise squash-blossom necklaces, ribbon-woven shawls, hammered silver belts, and soaps made of mountain sage and lavender were priced to sell and sat in riotous displays of color and craftsmanship.
Magaskawee’s hand-beaded earrings were among the offered items. She spent hours designing them and working out the mathematical patterns for the intricate work. It gave her a sense of peace and accomplishment to work those tiny glass beads into miniature works of jeweled art. After Magaskawee put in a few hours peddling her merchandise, she would take the truck home for Taki or one of her cousins to use. Then she would pack up her supplies and get on her bike and ride along the hot, dusty roads of the reservation until she found a shaded, quiet spot. There, she would work for hours, dreaming of faraway places while her nimble fingers worked on the colorful patterns.
Now that her display was all set up and ready for customers, Magaskawee sat in her camp chair, sipped her coffee, and thought about how she had waited on the rooftop last night for her brother to arrive home. First Taki’s truck, then Johnny Bear’s car pulled into the long dusty road that led to the trailer, and Maggie had held her breath until Taki came stumbling out of the cab. Then, without so much as a glance in her direction, Johnny jumped out of the old Ford and hopped into the car that had followed behind. He had barely shut the passenger door before it sped away.
Magaskawee was relieved beyond description to have her brother home safe and sound—bruised and bloody, but still whole. But when Taki looked up at the roof where he knew his sister would be waiting, he gave her an unrepentant grin and a drunken salute. In that moment, Magaskawee knew that Johnny was right. Taki was never going to change. It made Magaskawee want to climb down from the rooftop and beat him herself. Disgusted, Magaskawee now turned her eyes away from her brother and towards the horizon, holding out a faint hope that Jack had followed Johnny Bear to the trailer.
It was ridiculous, she chided herself, that she should harbor any expectations that he would want to see her again. Why would he? In the few minutes they had met, all Magaskawee had to offer him was trouble. Not a great first impression. Still, she couldn’t help but hope. Jack Winston had the bluest eyes she had ever seen … and the whitest smile and the deepest dimples and … oh boy, Maggie felt herself heat up from the inside out just thinking about him.
Oh, well. Maybe one day, Magaskawee would be the one traveling across the country. She’d pull into a small town and would run into him in a coffee shop. They would have a cup of some outrageously expensive blend whose name she couldn’t pronounce. Then, she and Jack would sit close together in cushy leather chairs and talk about worldly things …
It was nice to dream.
And although she knew that he had probably moved on hours ago, every time Magaskawee heard the rumble of a motorcycle coming down the road, her heart skipped a beat and her eyes searched for the man with the sea-blue eyes, the boyish grin, and the heart of a warrior.
As the next few hours had passed by, Magaskawee was sad to see nothing of Jack Winston, and by mid-afternoon she’d become resigned to the fact that she would never see him again. Magaskawee felt such a keen sense of disappointment that it wrapped around her heart and squeezed tight until she wanted to cry from the pain of it. When she looked down the long stretch of lonely highway, it seemed to mock her with an empty promise. She yearned to get away and erase Jack from her mind. However, quitting early for the day was not an option she could afford to take. She could not let her emotions dictate her earnings. If she wanted to have a future, she needed every cent. So when the roar of a single motorcycle came sounding down the road, Magaskawee didn’t even bother to glance up.
“Hey Maggie!” a deep voice shouted above the roar of an idling engine.
Magaskawee turned around so quickly that she almost toppled over the display case.
Jack Winston was off his bike in a flash, helping her put it right again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Magaskawee stood frozen to the spot. The sound of his voice sent a chill down her spine, and she had trouble catching her breath. The best she could do was stare at him.
“Damn.” He brushed his hand through his hair. “You don’t remember me? Last night, in the bar? Saved your brother from getting the shit beat out of him? That was me.” He bobbed and weaved in a boxing move in front of her. Then, he laughed, and those dimples popped out in his cheeks.
How was it possible that Jack was even better looking in the light of day? She noticed small things now that she had missed the night before: the fullness of his lips, the fine laugh lines around his mouth, the small scar on his jaw. He was more handsome than she had even thought. Best of all, he looked at her with the kind of warmth and light that made Magaskawee want to bask in forever.
Because … those eyes.
“Of course, I remember you,” she said shyly. “But my name isn’t Maggie.”
Jack’s grin deepened. “Yeah, I know. It’s Maga … what?”
“Magaskawee.”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl. But I try never to use words with more than two syllables.” He winked at her. “I hope that Maggie is okay with you. Otherwise, we’re gonna have to keep doing this embarrassing thing where I keep getting it wrong and you keep correcting me, and after a while I just wind up yelling out … ‘hey, you’ whenever I want to get your attention. We both know that ain’t gonna go over too well.”
Magaskawee laughed and shook her head. “Maggie, it is, then.”
Jack nodded, satisfied. “How’s your brother doing? He okay?”
“I left before he woke up, but I saw him come in last night, and yes, he was all right. Thank you for helping him out. I’m not sure if he would have made it out of that alley alive this time.” She sighed.
“This time?” Jack scowled at her. “Jesus. There have been other times?”
“I’m afraid so. But just one other time … he spent a week in the hospital with broken ribs, a ruptured spleen, a broken nose, bruised kidneys … You get the picture.” Magaskawee grimaced.
“What the hell?” Jack scrubbed a hand down his face. “Have to tell you, honey, that your brother is an idiot. Not only is he an idiot, he’s an idiot with a major gambling problem. If a beating like that didn’t stop him the first time? Then nothing and no one’s gonna ever stop him, but himself. You get that, r
ight?”
“Oh, I get it. Trust me, I get it,” she said with resignation.
“Good. Because make no mistake here, those dickheads in that alleyway? They are not playing around. He’s dealing with some real hardcore bastards.” Then Jack laser focused on Magaskawee with those intense blue eyes that seemed to look right through to her soul. “And you? You going in and trying to stop that, alone, with nothing but a wooden bat? Exactly how much power do you think you’d be able to put behind that at your full weight? My boys and I pack two-twenty, two-thirty at least, and with combat training to back that, it took us a while to put those fuckers down. You’re too smart a girl to do a dumb thing like that. You can’t help your brother until he wants to get help, and by the looks of it, he ain’t there yet. Sad to say, he might never get there. You understand?”
“I u-understand,” she stammered. Magaskawee knew Jack was right and everything he said was true, but she also knew that if the situation arose again, she wouldn’t hesitate to try and help Taki again. It was a lose-lose situation, and one that Magaskawee honestly saw no escape from, but she was not going to tell Jack that.
“Glad to hear it.” Jack broke into a sudden smile and her heart skipped a beat. Then he looked at the earrings on the table. “These are beautiful, Maggie. Did you make them?”
“Yes.” Magaskawee turned to the display, grateful to move beyond the matter of Taki and his poor life choices.
“Seriously incredible. Like little works of art.” He picked up a dainty earring off the rack and ran a careful finger over the colorful beadwork. “I can’t even imagine working with something as tiny as these beads and then forming them into these intricate patterns. Very cool.”
She blushed with pleasure. “Thanks. I’m glad you like them.”
“Like them?” Jack held them up to the sunlight. “They’re amazing. Yeah, I like ‘em, but Irene would fuckin’ love ’em.”
Magaskawee felt her insides twist with an unpleasant and irrational search of jealousy.
Irene.
Of course, he had someone. Magaskawee forced a light tone into her voice.
“Please, take those earrings for Irene or pick out another pair if you think she would like something else. My gift to you … as a thank you.”
“I’ll take a pair for sure, but I want to pay you for them.”
“I won’t take your money, Jack,” Magaskawee replied. Then she asked with an honest curiosity, “So, Irene? Tell me more about her, and I will help you pick out the perfect pair. Each pattern and color variation have meaning and appeal to different types of people.”
“Well, Irene is my eighty-year-old great aunt, and the coolest woman on the face of the planet. She’s a real fireball.” Jack scrubbed a hand over the bottom of his face. “Hmmm, they’re all really pretty, Maggie, and Aunt Irene would like every one of them. Which ones are your favorites?”
Magaskawee felt a surge of relief, one she had no right to feel, but still … eighty-year-old aunt … was music to her ears. She rocked back on her heels and smiled at him as his words danced and fluttered like beautiful butterflies all around her.
“Maggie? You’re favorite?” He teased. “Earth to Maggie … Earth to Maggie.”
Maggie reddened with embarrassment and forced herself to focus. “Actually, that’s hard for me to say. I put a lot of care and thought into them, and I love them all equally but for different reasons. If you want to know what my favorite ones are, they would have to be these blue ones right over here. See? They’re shaped like little birds.” Magaskawee gently took them off the display and handed the delicate earrings to Jack. When his calloused hand touched hers, a pleasant charge radiated through her and did something funny to her insides.
She stood still in rapture-filled fascination as Jack brought his hand up to Magaskawee’s hair, tucked the heavy strands behind her ear, and held the earring up to her lobe. He looked from her face to the earring and back again.
“Beautiful,” he said softly. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my whole damn life.”
And looking into Jack’s handsome face, Magaskawee couldn’t have agreed more.
Jack moved his hand from her hair and pressed the earrings into her palm. “So, how long do you have to stick around here?”
Maggie wanted to grab Jack’s hand and hold on forever. She forced herself to concentrate on wrapping up the earrings.
“A few more hours, at least. It’s a holiday weekend and there will be more tourist buses coming through.”
“So, you stay until you sell everything?”
“Everything?” Magaskawee’s eyes went wide.” I wish! Hopefully, I’ll leave with a few less items than I started the day with. But I have never come even close to selling out.”
“Well then, today just might be your lucky day,” Jack said. “Do you believe in luck?”
She smiled at him. “I’m Lakota Sioux. I believe in fate. I believe in mystery and magic and dreams that tell the future. And I believe things are written in the stars.”
“Well, I believe that people are in control of their own destiny, but I also believe in a little bit of luck, and Maggie, this is your lucky day.”
“It is? How so?” She smiled at him.
“Because you just sold your inventory.” Jack reached into his back pocket and took out the wallet that was chained to his belt loop. “Two hundred enough?”
Maggie looked from Jack to the small fortune in his hand and back again. “No …”
Jack grinned and reached into his wallet again. “Two fifty?”
“No!” Magaskawee was horrified that he actually thought she was bargaining up. “Please, Jack, put your money away.”
She placed her hand over Jack’s in a stop motion and he immediately grabbed on to hers, then his thumb brushed the soft skin of her palm. In that moment, Magaskawee’s entire being was transformed. With infinite care, his hand left hers and reached around to the side of her hip. Maggie held her breath as he slowly unzipped the small pouch and carefully placed the money inside. After Jack had zipped the pouch closed, his hand lingered on her waist. It was the singular most erotic moment Maggie had ever experienced. It made her tummy do flip-flops and her breasts tingle. It had taken her a moment to recover, and when she did, she realized Jack was speaking to her.
“Now, the only thing left to do is to take all your display cases down and get them packed up. After that, the rest of the day is ours.”
Magaskawee stuttered and stammered and watched on as Jack began to dismantle the merchandise. Then she glanced at Nizhoni, whose eyes danced with approval. Nizhoni nudged Mato, who was standing next to her with a grin splitting his lined face.
Maggie looked at both of them helplessly.
“Magaskawee, providence has truly smiled on you!” Nizhoni said with reassurance. “Mato will pack all your things up and drive the truck home for you. Now give him the keys and run along. Go take advantage of the generosity and good fortune that the spirits have blessed you with on this glorious and fine day!”
“See, now that’s what I’m talking about!” Jack smiled wide at Nizhoni and nodded his thanks to Mato.
Then he turned to Magaskawee with a devilish grin. “You ever been on a Harley before, Maggie?”
Magaskawee wrapped her arms around Jack and held on for dear life. The sudden roar of the engine sent vibrations running up and down her legs. Then, with little warning, the Harley shot forward with so much power that she felt her lungs hit her spine. The quick acceleration and wind velocity made Maggie feel as if she had been catapulted into the air. She laughed out loud with the sheer exhilaration of it all.
The next few hours were the most magical and exciting ones that Magaskawee had ever experienced. With the sun on her back, the wind in her hair, and her arms tight around the handsome Jack Winston, she flew through the winding roads as if on wings. Her senses were ambushed by a cacophony of sound, while her eyes fought to register the quickly changing landscape. Magaskawee’s natural gra
ce made her a perfect passenger. Intuitively, she leaned in hard and held on tight as Jack navigated expertly through the ribbons of winding road. Maggie was having the time of her life and she wished the ride would go on and on and never end.
It was just past sunset when Jack finally slowed down and pulled off the road and into a large commercial campground. He eased up on the throttle as he rode past the RVs, the recreation hall, and the two swimming pools to the designated tent area. He made his way down the smaller of the two roads to a clearing where several dozen chromed-out Harleys were parked alongside a few older pick-up trucks and a gray utility van. Further on towards the tree line sat a bunch of tents in various colors, sizes, and shapes staked-out and staggered from one another. Throngs of men and women dressed in Harley gear, worn denim, and road leathers milled around wooden tables filled with picnic food. There were large grills that sizzled with a wide variety of meats, and a half-dozen kegs sat nestled in big buckets of ice. A huge bonfire blazed in the middle of the area while music and laughter filled the air.
Jack parked the bike and helped Magaskawee off. Then he grabbed her by the hand and began to lead her to the party. She pulled back on his hand and looked at the crowd with more than a little hesitation.
“What’s the matter?” He frowned.
“I … uh … don’t really think I’ll know anyone here,” she mumbled inanely.
Jack just stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. When he did, those blue eyes danced at her and those gorgeous dimples leapt out from his cheeks. “Of course, you won’t. Ain’t that the whole point of introducing you?” Then without another word, Jack wrapped his arm around Maggie’s waist, tucked her in close to him, and pulled her along.
“Maggie, this is everybody.” Jack swept a hand around the firelight. “And everybody—this is Maggie.” The assembled group looked at her curiously. Their bodies cast long shadows against the light of the blazing fire. The campsite was both weirdly ominous and welcoming at the same time.
Prosper (Hells Saints MC Book 7) Page 3
