Chasing Yesterday
For Jessie, love isn’t an option
By
Shiralyn J. Lee
Artwork and illustrations by Shiralyn J. Lee.
Photo’s purchased from Canstock
http://www.wickedpublishing.net/index.html
Copyright: © Copyright at Shiralyn J. Lee June 1st 2015
Copyright @ Shiralyn J. Lee June 1st 2015
All characters within this story are fictional and bear no resemblance to anyone living or dead and are purely coincidental.
A Shiralyn J. Lee story created on June 1st 2015 this book or any parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author. Piracy is a crime.
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Contact information:
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Dedication: I dedicate this book to my wife Janice. I cannot tell you enough how much I love you. You give me the freedom to write my stories and you take care of my needs while I write them. Although I create these stories, you are the foundation behind them, I recognise that, I just want you to know.
Introduction
In 2001 Jessie Wheeler has experienced the wrong side of love when Kelly, her long-term girlfriend, didn’t think twice about cheating on her with one of her own co-workers.
She’s been living in Vancouver for the past few years but her Grandpa, or Pop-pops, as she has always called him, has been killed in a car accident—one that was caused by a drunk driver, Gus Jackson.
Jessie has inherited his ranch, his dog Blue and everything else that goes with it. Now she has the chance to make drastic changes in her life.
A moody type of character, she doesn’t let people into her life so easily, but when Heather King turns up, Jessie’s heart begins to soften. Although, she doesn’t make it easy for either of them to move forward.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter One
You could hear a pin drop in the lawyer’s office—a small room on the third floor of a red brick building. This building being located in the main street of a town called Hope. That is, the main street, being the only street that accommodated businesses. Fifteen stores on one side and twelve on the other—nothing else but countryside beyond that.
Jessie Wheeler, a woman in her mid-twenties, was seated in front of Ian Miles, one of the three business partners who owned Wilson, Miles and Duncan Family Law Group. A beam of sunlight filtered in through the window behind him, causing him to have a darkened silhouette of a fat man patiently waiting for his client to sign the legal documents, although, his vested interest was more likely for the payment he was about to receive from the transaction.
He leant forward, his elbows planted on his desk, his hands clasped beneath his chin. “Your Grandpa will be missed around these parts, Jessie,” he told her. “He was a well-respected man. I can’t think of one person who ever had a bad word to say about him. Why, I can even remember him when I was a young man. He used to come over to my father’s house every once in a while. They’d sit on the front porch, maybe down a whiskey, or two, and the stories they’d exchange, well, let’s just say he was a fascinating man.”
Jessie brushed her long-blonde locks, tucking them behind her ear. “He was a good man, I know that. Perhaps far too good, if you ask me,” she replied, drumming her fingers on her lap. She needed a cigarette. It had been two-and-a-half hours since her last one, the clock on the wall behind the lawyer reminded her of that fact. Opening her tan suede jacket she felt for her cigarette pack that she’d put in her inside pocket. Pulling the pack out, she flipped open the top and tapped it upside down into the palm of her hand, until one dropped out. She placed the filter part in her mouth and then searched her other pocket for her lighter. Just as she was about to light it up, Mr. Miles gave a polite cough and casually wagged his finger. Jessie reeled her head back. “What? Now I can’t smoke in this god forsaken…so called office?” She yanked the cigarette from her lips—irritated, she stuffed it back into the carton, and showing her annoyance like an arrogant teenager, she opened her hand out and let the pack drop into her lap.
Mr. Miles slid a document across the dark-oak desk for her to read. It was a document handing over the ownership of her Grandpa’s ranch and all of his personal possessions, including his old pickup truck, twenty-five-hundred acres of land, his herd of Belgian Blue cattle and forty horses, and the large sum of money that he’d left for her in his bank account. With the tip of his finger, he tapped the document on the signature line. “Just sign at the bottom when you’ve read through it. There’s nothing to be alarmed about, it’s just releasing his name and giving you full ownership.”
Jessie snatched it up and held it out in front of her face, reading through all of the lawyer jargon. Her Grandpa had left her everything but that wasn’t surprising, being as she was his only surviving relative, who was mentally capable of handling owning such a huge plot of land. She slapped it down onto the desk and picked up the pen that Mr. Miles had put down and scribbled her signature along the line, then dropped the pen on top of the document and sat back in the seat.
Mr. Miles reached over and dragged the document across the desk towards him. Inspecting her signature, he released a slow smile, his gerbil-like cheeks raising like ruby-red apples below his deep set brown eyes. “Well, it’s all yours, Miss. Wheeler. You are one very lucky lady inheriting your Grandpa’s wealth.”
She bolted forward, slapped the palms of her hands on his desk and glared at him. “Lucky? I’ve stayed away from this town, or should I say stinking hell hole, for as long as I could and the only reason that I’m back here, is because I want to get rid of the ranch, take the money and run. Is that plain and simple enough for you, Mr. Miles, or should I…say…it…slowly?” She sat back in the chair, her mouth closed tight, her green eyes lingering in their stare at him.
The smile disappearing from his face, he placed the signed document back in the folder and closed it, then drumming his fingers on the desk he pondered over Jessie’s reaction. “You seem angered. I knew your Grandpa’s intentions, he came into this office a few months ago and set his will for you to inherit his wealth. Not everyone gets to inherit a quarter of what you’ve just gained. Perhaps you should give thought to what you’re saying before making any rash decisions?”
Jessie’s eyes darted to one side of the room and then the other, noting the dreary plain pistachio coloured walls and the cheaply framed certificates of achievements. “You were two years above me in school, weren’t you? I was in the same year as your sister, Becky. Tarty Becky, we used to call her. Is she still opening her legs for anyone who cares to take a look?”
Inhaling a sharp breath, he reeled his head back and sat up stiffly in his seat. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be, I’m sure she wasn’t,” she replied smartly.
•••
Jessie shoved the paperwork into the glove box of her blue Chevy truck. She turned the key in the ignition to start it up and then sat with her hands on the wheel, while the truck idled, looking on at the street ahead of her. Letting out a long sigh, she wondered just what the hell it was about this town that had kept her grandpa
from selling up, when he had been given the opportunity on more than one occasion. She opened the driver’s side window, took out her cigarettes and lit one up. “God damn shit hole,” she muttered, exhaling the smoke with her words.
“Is that so?” a male voice asked through the half-opened window.
Jessie was startled, as she hadn’t seen anyone approach the truck. She glanced over her shoulder to see that it was Travis Conner, the local sheriff and once a potential boyfriend back in high school. She had never acted on it, as she knew that she was different from the others. Having the knowledge that she liked girls from an early age but coming out in small town like Hope, was not the best option for her at the time. “Travis, it’s been a while.” She exhaled the smoke from her cigarette and wafted it out.
Travis leant against the truck, his arm rested on the roof, he looked in through the window. His rodeo brim-style Stetson shaded his face from the midday sun. He removed his dark tinted sunglasses and wryly smiled at her. “I’m sorry to hear about your grandpa, Jessie. I know many folks around these parts all felt that he was a good man and he will be sorely missed.”
Jessie looked down at her lap and sighed heavily. “I don’t suppose you’d let me spend just five minutes alone with Gus Jackson, would you? No one would have to know.”
“Nope, I can’t let you do that, Jessie. I’m sure that there’s a few folks around here who would like to take the law into their own hands over this.” He looked both ways at the street, his eyes squinting from the bright sunlight. “But the law is the law, and that’s how I intend to keep things. Now, if I remember rightly, you like to down a cool beer, or two. Still do?”
“I haven’t changed what I like, Travis,” she said mockingly.
“Then let me buy you a beer. Catch up for old time’s sake? You look like you could do with one, and maybe some friendly company.”
“Yeah, sure, why not?” She put the lock on the steering wheel and climbed out of the truck, then locked the door. Strolling toward the bar, she pulled out her pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket and offered Travis one. “Still smoke?”
He scratched the side of his head and took one from the pack. “I quit for two years. Then when Laurie left me, I started smoking again. She used to nag me to stop and then she banned me from smoking in the house and then the car, and the yard, so I gave it up, just for the sake of peace. She nagged a lot toward the end of our relationship, jeez, I don’t know how I was able to take it.”
“You and Laurie broke up?” She stuffed the cigarette between her lips and lit it up, then cupping the lighter in her hands to prevent the breeze from knocking out the flame, she held it out for Travis to light his.
He sucked on the cigarette, until the end caught light. Exhaling, he put his hand on her back. “Come on, let’s get you that beer.”
•••
They sat at the bar with their backs facing the pool table. A woman in denim shorts and a pink t-shirt played on the pinball machine, country music played on the jukebox and smoke from cigarettes filled the room. Travis held a bottle of cold light beer. He looked behind him to see two men playing pool. “Hey, Ricky, Hank.”
Hank was about to take a shot—his chin rested on the end of the pool cue, he looked up at Travis and gave a slight nod. Ricky picked up his bottle of beer and took a swig. Wiping his mouth with his shirt sleeve he acknowledged Travis. “Are you ready to show me how it’s done, Sheriff?” he joked.
“I’ll pass, thanks,” he answered turning back to face Jessie. “How many times did you kick my butt playing that game?”
Jessie looked behind her to see what he was talking about. She smirked. “You never could beat me.”
“What makes you think that I didn’t let you win?”
She smiled smugly. “Not likely, I know I’m better than you.”
The bartender placed a bowl of peanuts on the counter in front of them and took their order. Moments later, he plonked two more opened bottles of cold beer down. Jessie grabbed a handful of peanuts and shovelled them into her mouth.
“I take it you haven’t eaten yet?” Travis asked her. As he picked up a couple of peanuts and gracefully held his hand to his mouth for them to drop at an appropriate speed.
“Nope. I drove straight from Vancouver early this morning and met with Ian Miles, the stupid fat lawyer whom my grandpa had arranged all of his paperwork with. And then I met you.” She took a swig of beer and another handful of peanuts.
Slightly confused, he cocked his head and rubbed his chin. “So you haven’t even been to see the ranch yet?”
“Not sure if I want to,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “There’s too many memories, not the sort that I care to think about, anyway.”
“Are you getting sentimental in your old age?” He caught the attention of the bartender and ordered two double-bacon-burgers and a large bowl of fries.
“Less of the old, and no I’m not. I’ve always felt this way about it.” She crunched her peanuts loudly and took another swig of beer to wash them down. Before the bartender disappeared into the kitchen she called out to him as she licked the salt from her fingertips. “Make that two large bowls of fries and add extra pickles on my burger.”
“See that jukebox over there,” Travis said, pointing toward the end of the bar. “That’s where I first kissed Laurie. Almost six years ago, I considered myself to be the luckiest man in Hope. Now look at me.”
“So how come you two broke up? The real reason I mean. You don’t split over smoking and nagging, surely?”
Travis swigged his beer and then slapped the empty bottle down hard on the bar—the foam bubbles dripped back down on the inside of the clear glass. Pausing, he looked downcast. “We lost our first baby when Laurie was five months pregnant. Two years later we found out that she was pregnant again, after the doctors had mistakenly told us that she wouldn’t be able to conceive again, and then Mikey was born three weeks earlier than the due date. God, he was a great kid. I never knew that I could smile so much, my cheeks actually hurt…I miss him.” He brushed his hand over his face. “Mikey died when he was three years old. We didn’t know anything about him having an illness, there were none of the usual signs that you’d normally pick up on. Laurie went into his room to wake him up for breakfast and he wouldn’t wake. I was outside washing the truck down and I heard her scream.” He fisted his hand and pounded his forehead. “The doctors said it was crib death.” Raising his head, he looked at Jessie, his eyes welling, his chin quivering. “How can you just die, Jessie?” He placed his hand on the bar next to the bowl of peanuts.
Jessie placed her hand on top of his. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Stroking her thumb over the back of his hand, she squeezed her fingers, reassuring him that she felt for his situation emotionally.
He shook his head and scrunched his nose. “Ah, Laurie couldn’t handle it. I think when she looked at me, she saw Mikey and it just messed with her head. We argued over the slightest thing until that became the only way that we communicated. I suppose it was just the next step for her to move on. Anyway, less of the heavy stuff. I hear that Corby is doing well.” He turned his face away and wiped his hand over his eyes to clear them.
Jessie shuddered. “I haven’ seen Corby in years. I can’t cope seeing her just sitting in a chair and staring aimlessly out of the window. I know she’s my sister, but I don’t have it in me to visit her and just talk away while she says nothing. You must think that I’m an uncaring bitch.”
“Far from it. I think you must have a lot on your plate.”
Jessie rested her head on his shoulder. “Well another beer would lessen the stress.”
“Still a jerk, I see.”
•••
Jessie unlocked the driver’s side door and climbed inside her truck, while Travis held the door open for her while she removed the steering wheel lock. They smiled at each other and awkwardly hugged.
“You should stick around for a while, maybe even go and visit the old ranc
h. It’s good to see you again, Jessie. It’s been way too long.” He closed the door and tipped his hat. “Drive safely.”
Jessie started the truck up and as she drove away, waving her hand through the open window, she looked at her rear view mirror, watching him standing in the middle of the road until he was out of her sight.
She drove out of town and found herself driving along a familiar dirt track—one that would take her directly to her grandpa’s ranch. The long blades of grass brushed against the under-side of the truck as the tires rolled over the dry dirt and rocks, kicking up the dust behind her. Fields on both sides of her showed evidence that they were in use to make financial gain. Rolls of hay waited to be collected, blueberry bushes were being picked by local people, cattle roamed the rich green acres and fields of corn were full and ready to be cropped.
She stopped the truck and opened her door. Standing on the driver’s seat, she steadied herself by resting her arm on the roof of the truck, looking around at her lush surroundings. This was now her land and it was starting to sink in, as she breathed in the familiar fresh countryside air.
Chapter Two
Jessie leant against her truck and had smoked two cigarettes—one straight after the other, as she had remembered what Ian Miles had told her and had given thought to her new inheritance.
The sun shone in a pale-blue sky with cloud formations sweeping across, creating patches of shadows over the fields.
“Damn it grandpa, you knew just how to get me back here, didn’t you?” she muttered to herself. Flicking her cigarette to the ground, she stubbed it out with the bottom of her boot and climbed back into her truck, turned on the radio to a local music station, and listened to one of her favourite singers, Lisa Brokop. She continued to drive along the dirt track, until she reached a wooden fence made from cut tree branches. It spanned the length of a paddock and led to a driveway that took it to her grandpa’s ranch house. She stopped the truck again and stared at the house—a place where her grandpa had brought her up since the age of five. Tears filled her green eyes as she hadn’t seen her childhood home in years. “Jessie Wheeler, get a grip on yourself,” she said to herself. Putting the truck back into drive, she drove slowly and turned into the driveway.
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