Savage in a Stetson (Crossroads #4) - Em Petrova Page 0,5
and picked at his Stetson on his lap. Looking across the parking lot of the nursing home, he wondered how Grandpa would greet him. With love and affection as he’d done for his dog when it made a mistake?
Hell, he wouldn’t find out sitting here in his truck like a coward.
When he stepped out onto the asphalt, he automatically glanced toward the employee parking area. Jada’s vehicle didn’t sit there. She must be working another shift.
The woman would prove to be another difficult mountain to climb. He’d dumped her to chase his dream of fame and fortune. Another person hurt by his decision to leave…but he had to find out.
He had to know if Dominick “Savage” Cole could rise from the ashes.
Just thinking that made the scar on his jaw itch beneath his short beard, but he resisted scratching it.
The feet between him and the entrance to Crossroads Manor seemed like a mile of desert. He even felt his mouth dry out. All those miles between him and Crossroads didn’t offer him the words to say. He and Grandpa had exchanged harsh words. Dom knew now the old man only wanted to see him happy, comfortable and settled. In his eyes, following his own footsteps of living in Crossroads his whole life and raising his family here would do that.
Regret lay thick on his tongue as he pushed open the front door and approached the reception desk. The redhead in glasses and wearing a bun low at her neck looked up and did a double take.
“Dom!”
Though he couldn’t remember smiling since his drive from Texas, he offered her his most friendly smile. “Hi, Jodi.”
“We haven’t seen you in ages. It’s so good to see you again. Your grandpa will be elated, I’m sure!”
Dom wasn’t so certain about that, but he was here to try to make amends. Life was too short for a rift between family.
“Go on back to his room. You know the way.” Jodi grinned, and he tipped his hat in thanks before moving down the long corridor.
His boots thumped on the tile, and usually the sound would bring Jada out of some room to greet him as he passed. Only she didn’t appear, and she never would. He’d thrown that all away, and for what? Eight seconds of fame?
He reached the door. He knocked and then pushed it open without waiting for a reply. But when he heard, “What the hell do you want?”, he drew up, blinking in surprise.
He opened the door all the way and stepped inside. His grandpa sat in a chair by the window, where he liked to watch the birds outside on the grass. “It ain’t time for lunch yet, and I don’t want your damn chicken anyway. Or what passes for chicken in this place.”
“Gettin’ awfully ornery, aren’t ya?” Dom’s statement made his grandpa whip around in the chair. For a long heartbeat, they stared at each other. Dom’s stomach dipped sharply—had the Alzheimer’s progressed so far that he no longer recognized Dom?
“Savage is back in town, I see.” He looked him over, from boots to hat. “Sportin’ a new beard and a buckle. Won a few?”
He nodded and entered the room. The time since he’d seen his grandpa hadn’t been kind to the older man, and Dom’s stomach knotted at the sight of more wrinkles on his face and the down turn of his mouth. Knowing he was responsible for his unhappiness gutted him even more.
Doffing his hat, he approached the extra chair where he spent countless hours enjoying his grandpa’s company. He nodded toward the chair in question, and Grandpa nodded.
As he sank to the seat, he felt himself relax into the regular swing of their visit. Maybe things weren’t so changed between them as he first thought.
“How many wins?” William J Cole had once been a formidable man in Crossroads. Then he’d lost his wife, who he endearingly called “my Ellen,” and within months had grown confused enough with his progressing disease to be placed in Crossroads Manor.
“Thirteen.”
“Not too shabby.” Grandpa sat back, head cocked in that familiar manner as he contemplated him. At least that hadn’t changed.
“Who did you think was knocking on the door just now? You sounded grumpy.”
“I didn’t think it was you, that’s for sure. I don’t want any lunch today, not if it’s gonna be that terrible chicken they serve around here.” His mouth drew down again.
“I’ll see if I can get you something besides chicken.”
“You plan on stickin’ around, Savage?”
He inflated his