Cady sat at a cold metal table in a bleak and disconcerting room. Her hands fidgeted in front of her nervously.
A loud clank and creaking of metal on metal alerted her to the heavy door she entered through being opened again. A guard held the door open quietly.
Jacob Nighthorse slowly walked in, each footstep making a small scuffing noise in an otherwise silent environment. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit and a white t-shirt beneath. Cady could see his cheeks were slightly sunken in and his eyes were showing signs of his apparent exhaustion. He sat down in front of her silently and didn't say a word.
Cady had tried to think of what she would finally say the whole drive there, but somehow with him sitting in front of her, nothing seemed appropriate.
How could a single sentence reveal everything that she needed to say? So much had gone wrong she wouldn't know where to begin. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was for hitting him with the stake. In the moment, her love for Henry and fear for what had happened had overtaken her.
But she should have trusted Jacob. She should have known he would never hurt Henry, and never hurt her. Jacob was protective from her from the very start. And after all, she never once sincerely apologized when she had all the time in the world to. That was the worst of all. Her final betrayal.
And so here they sat, across from each other in a prison for men, and all they could do was try to take in the person in front of them. She could see in his eyes he didn't fully understand her presence. Cady never wrote a single letter, never made a phone call. She didn't know how. Just like she didn't know what to say now. But she had to come because even after all this time – the year he had spent in prison – was beginning to wear on her mind. Every time she was at the casino for her godfather Henry, her mind was flooded with thoughts of Jacob.
Jacob, Jacob, Jacob. His silky voice. His eyes and mysterious expression. The occasional chuckle he gave. The softness she saw in him and sometimes wondered if it was reserved for her. And most of all, the way he had trusted her. She also wondered if that trust – that full trust, trust based on something other than a transaction, so unlike the other relationships in his life – if that trust had been reserved just for her too. Their trust had always been built on mutual respect and care for the other person. Until she broke it over and over, that is. The state of that former trust was being called into question right now, as he finally broke the silence.
"I have to admit, when they told me I had a visitor I never imagined it would be you."
She gulped. Her whole mouth went dry.
"I know. I didn't expect to come either, but… here I am."
He raised his chin. "Bold." Tilting his head a little, she saw him biting his cheek. "And why are you here, Cady?"
She pushed his clear mistrust to the back of her mind.
"I was here two weeks ago on business. And I saw you walking in the yard, past the fence. Ever since… I haven't had a moment of peace." Her voice waivered as she spoke. "Did you see me? That day?"
He shook his head slightly. "No. I'm honestly glad I didn't," he said. "You see, peace is pretty hard to come by myself as it is, too."
His comment stung her. Ignoring the accompanying pain, she pushed onward.
"I just – I had to see you. Face to face. There's something I need to say to you that's long overdue."
He put his elbows on the table and folded his hands together. She could see the remnants of the businessman inside him, envisioning his crisp suit and colorful button-down shirts in place of this foreign jumpsuit. It almost worked.
"Go on," he said.
Meeting his eyes, almost painfully holding his gaze past the point of comfort, she blocked tears from falling by refusing to blink.
"That I'm sorry. That I'm so, so sorry," she said sincerely.
His eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"Sorry for what? Nothing you did landed me here. Unfortunately, I did this to myself."
"Not for you being here. But for everything I did leading up to you being here. I'm sorry for not trusting you. I'm sorry-" her voice cracked. "I'm sorry for hitting you. And accusing you of those horrible things. And then expecting personal favors like I never did anything wrong. I'm so sorry, Jacob." She reached out and out her hands over his.
He looked down at her hands with an unreadable expression.
"After all this time… did it not occur to you that I had let that all go?" He slid his hands out from under hers and brought them closer to his body, disconnecting the unwelcome contact.
Her shoulders dropped a little. "Even if you have… I never did. I still haven't forgiven myself," she said.
"I forgive you, Cady. I'll admit that your actions wounded me beyond the physical marks. It changed the way I look at you, which saddened me the most I think. It was nice having someone on my side even for just a little while. But the past is the past. So, if you came her looking for absolution, then you have it. You're free to leave here with it."
Her heart sank. She always knew she had hurt Jacob when she had done him wrong, but to hear him talk about it tugged at her heart strings.
"There's something else," she said quietly. Jacob only raised an eyebrow. She continued, "Have you every heard of the Anson Hamilton treasure?"
He gave it a moment's thought. "That rich white guy buried some treasure and wrote a poem. Right?"
She nodded. "Yeah. About two million dollars' worth."
He narrowed his eyes. "And how would you know how much it's worth? It hasn't been found," he said.
"Well, about that," she began. "It's been found. My dad found it," she explained.
"Of course. Walt Longmire found the treasure," he said flatly, rolling his eyes. "But what does that have to do with me?"
"He didn't want anything to do with the money. He only wanted to find it. So, he gave the money to me, as long as I promised to do something good with it. And I want to use the money to help you get out."
Jacob remained silent and sat back in his chair, adding distance between them.
"Cady…" He let out a long breath in frustration. "I had good representation the first time around. Really good. My remaining four years… I'm stuck with them," he huffed.
His eyes showed a level of defeat Cady had not seen in him before. She didn't like this Jacob – a broken Jacob. Prison was chipping away at him bit by bit, and it killed Cady. All she wanted was the former warrior who first invited her to work for him. That Jacob wouldn't give in so easily.
"Please, just let me try," she begged.
Jacob only stared down at the metal table, not wanting to meet her eyes and see her pity. It would hurt his pride too much. He simply shook his head no.
She stood up. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a package of Red Vines. She set them on the table in front of him. His eyes flashed curiously and snapped up to hers. He reached out and touched the package of candy. Looking over his shoulder, he checked to see if the guard was watching.
"The guard isn't going to bother you right now. I had favors to pull, and privacy in this room was one of them," Cady remarked.
Jacob cracked open the package and took a bite of a Red Vine, sighing in contentment at the taste. A flicker of his old self showed in his eyes.
"My phone number was added to your call list. If you change your mind… call," she said. Taking some of the most difficult steps of her life, she began walking around the table towards the door.
His hand darted out and grabbed her hand as she walked past him. She stopped in her tracks. He was staring up at her intensely.
"How – how in the world did you know I loved Red Vines?" he asked incredulously.
She smiled down at him, trying to hide that she was holding tears back. "By paying attention." She pressed her lips together into a thin line. Giving his hand a squeeze, a tear fell despite her efforts to keep them at bay. She used her other hand to quickly wipe it away.
Jacob stood up slowly, a new light in his eyes. One that almost felt like the old Jacob was looking at her. Releasing her hand, Jacob brought her into an embrace. He buried his face into her hair and pressed his hands into her back firmly. Cady responded in full, wrapping her arms tightly around his frame. God, it felt good. It felt right. Years of sadness were being released into this embrace between estranged friends.
She closed her eyes and tried to memorize the feeling of his body, his tight hug, his smell. There was no guarantee that they would ever see each other again.
"Thank you," he murmured.
She only squeezed him tighter in response, her throat too tight from holding back tears to speak. He inhaled her lavender smelling hair before releasing the hug.
"Alright, Cady. Just – just do what you have to do. If trying to get me out is what that is, you have my blessing. Just don't be surprised when it doesn't work out."
She bit her lip and said, "I'm going to try like hell."
"I know," he said. "You've got that stubborn streak."