Baby blankets and sheets had been stripped from the crib and sent to the state crime lab along with the blue cloud curtains that used to hang in the window. Shed made them herself from a piece of fabric shed found in Rapid City last Christmas.
With an icy lump of pain lodged in her throat, Maggie struggled to breathe. Yet her eyes remained dry, almost too dry, with that achy, hollow feeling she couldnt blink away.
Longing to hold her child had become a physical need, just like breathing. And now that she was completely alone in her house, worry set in with a vengeance.
Was Dakota warm enough? Was he hungry? Were they changing his diapers and holding him so he wouldnt be afraid? She prayed whoever had taken her son wouldnt hurt him.
A sob rose in her throat and she pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from wailing aloud.
Then she noticed a powder-blue teddy bear lying forgotten against the wall. The plush, pillow-like toy was Dakotas favorite. He liked to sleep with it at night.
Maggie sank to her knees and gathered the plaything to her breast, inhaling the scents of baby powder and milk.
Why her child? He didnt like going with strangers, preferring only those he recognized, his mother and his caregiver, Mrs. Little Elk.
Please Dakota, dont cry too much. With all the child abuse and neglect shed witnessed in the year and a half shed been on the reservation, she hoped whoever had Dakota wasnt one of the abusers.
She pressed her face into the teddy bear, squeezed her eyes shut and sent a prayer to God and the Lakota spirits to help Joe find her son. At this point, she didnt care if he found out he was the father or if he sued for custody. Maggie loved Dakota so much shed give him up to his father if she could be certain he was alive and taken care of.
Why hadnt she heard them when theyd entered her house? A good mother would have woken up at the slightest movement. If only she hadnt slept soundly. If only shed woken with the dream. If only shed left the reservation and gone home to Des Moines when Joe went to war. She should have left while she was still pregnant and Dakota was safe in her womb. Her baby would still be with her if shed gone to Iowa. None of this would have happened.
If only.
She buried her face in the bears soft nylon fur, her shoulders shaking, her body racked with dry, silent sobs. Alone in the middle of the prairie, her son was nowhere to be found.
The phone in her bedroom rang twice before Maggie heard it, so deep was she in her misery.
She lurched to her feet, the teddy bear still in her hand, and raced for the cordless phone on her nightstand.
Hello? She practically hyperventilated with her hopes and fears tangled in her chest.
Well trade the baby for what was stolen from us. Coyote Butte. Saturday, midnight. Come alone or we kill the kid.
My baby? Is Dakota all right? Maggie asked in a strangled whisper. Please. Is he okay?
An infants cry could be heard in the background, before the line went dead.
Dakota! Maggie crushed the receiver to her ear, straining to hear her baby. Her hands shook so much she banged the phone against her temple, the pain barely registering. Dakota! Oh, please, let me have my baby!
Maggie?
As her vision blurred, the phone slipped from her ear. They had her baby and he was alive. Blackness curled around her and her knees buckled.
Maggie! Joe was there, gathering her into his arms, holding her up when her legs gave way. He smoothed her hair from her face and muttered soothing words.
She stood for several moments, reminding herself to breathe, telling her heart to go on beating, absorbing the strength, smell and touch of Joe holding her in his arms.
Finally, Joe tilted her chin up and stared down at her intently. What happened, Maggie?
I heard my baby. Her fingers clutched at the lapels of his shirt. They have Dakota. Hes alive.
THANK THE SPIRITS. Joe held her face against his shoulder. Shhh, hell be okay. He hoped to hell they found the child before the kidnappers did something stupid. The tribal police were already combing through a list of possible suspects and the state police had issued an Amber Alert throughout South Dakota and the bordering states. The FBI would be there within the next two or three hours. For now, the best he could do was to hold Maggie and help her through the terror of her loss.
With her body pressed against his and the scent of herbal shampoo stirring his senses, memories flooded in.
It had been extremely hot the summer hed first met Maggie. Hed hung around the activity center on the pretext of working out with the young people. What he wanted was information about drug abuse and drug dealing involving the teens. What he found was a pretty white woman playing a lousy game of basketball with the young adults. Sweaty, her hair curling wildly around her flushed face, shed looked so alive, so vibrant. Joe couldnt resist hanging around. And shed been so good with the kids, concerned and caring about everything in their lives.
Even after he identified the teens involved in the drug trafficking, he still went by the center with one excuse or another to talk to Maggie. His fascination for the auburn-haired social worker with the sunny smile was pretty obvious.
Charlie Tatanka, a recovering teen drug abuser, had agreed to assist in a DEA sting operation to bring the dealer in. Because of the rapport and level of trust he had with Maggie, the teen insisted she be close at hand as the bust went down.
Within the first two minutes of the maneuver, the dealer realized it was a setup and freaked, pulling a gun. Charlie was shot in the arm before the DEA and the tribal police could disarm the perpetrator.
Joe remembered how upset Maggie had been. As distressed as any parent would be over her own child, shed accompanied the boy in the ambulance to the hospital where shed stayed half the night ensuring Charlie was comfortable and had the proper treatment.
After the drug dealer was handed over to the state police, Joe dropped by the hospital to check on Charlie and Maggie. Charlies father was there to take him home in his pickup truck. Joe offered to give Maggie a lift. Thats when his inward struggle began.
She was still wired, talking nonstop during the trip back, riding an adrenaline high. Although worried about Charlie she couldnt contain her excitement over ridding the reservation of another dealer. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shining.
Shed been so beautiful, Joe had had a tough time concentrating on the road. When theyd arrived at Maggies small house on the reservation, hed insisted on checking out the place to make sure she was safe. Reluctant to leave her, hed been caught up in her exuberance, the passion of her conviction spilling into him and kindling a similar passion of another nature.
When Joe started to leave, Maggie made the mistake of throwing her arms around his neck to thank him for caring about the teenagers. Unable to resist, hed returned the embrace, kissing her until he was breathless, amazed at the burst of desire surging through his body.
In the heat of that embrace, he hadnt given a thought to what color, race or religion she was. That she wasnt Indian didnt cross his mind once. He only knew he had to hold her, touch her and feel her skin against his. The kiss didnt end until morning. Hed spent the night in Maggies arms feeling as if hed been given a gift from the spirits.