I did, Joe admitted, his softly spoken words drifting toward the ceiling with the stone vapor. After a year in the desert country of Iraq hed come to realize he didnt trust himself where Maggie was concerned.
The shaman laid a hand on Joes arm. When you were in battle, did you care about the color of your soldiers? What religion, what race?
Joe sat straighter. No, they were my brothers.
Does a child have a choice of what color, religion or race he is born into the world with?
You know they dont. But that doesnt change the world for our people on the reservation.
We are all brothers, Joe Lonewolf. Matoskah lifted a cup of water and poured it onto the glowing stones. Steam hissed and rose in a cloud to fill the room. Children are wakanyega, sacred beings. The child is one with the earth, one with our people, as is his mother. Look for this child like you would look for your own son, and remember, not all is as it appears. That is all you need to know. Mitaku oyasin.
My relative.
Joe extended his hand and grasped his mentors forearm. Pilamaya. Thanks. Then on all fours, he crawled from the sweat lodge into the frigid air outside, welcoming the swift rush of cold filling his nostrils and stinging his cheeks.
Look for this child like youd look for your own son. Dakota wasnt his son but he was a child, part of the circle of life and born of mother earth. His focus would be on finding the baby alive. Once hed accomplished that mission, he could decide what to do about his feelings for Maggie.
Chapter Four
Maggie unlocked the door and entered, automatically reaching in to switch on the lights of the large gymnasium. Her snow boots made echoing clopping sounds as she crossed the painted concrete court to her office on the opposite side.
As she pushed the glass door open, a lump lodged in her throat. A colorful playpen stood in one corner as if waiting for her to place Dakota in it with his toys.
How many times had she brought Dakota to work with her? Had she set herself and her child up for this disaster? Had one of the teens whod visited the center on multiple occasions seen Dakota and figured hed be a good trade for something?
Damn. Maggie slapped her hand to the doorframe and closed her eyes against the sting of tears. She could imagine Dakota crying for his mommy, holding out his hands for her to pick him up and make him safe. The tears squeezed through one at a time until she gave up and let them flow, hunching her shoulders in despair.
So caught up was she in her misery, Maggie barely heard the sound of the outside door opening. When the sound of rubber boots stopped in front of her, she looked up into Winona Little Elks dark face.
Come, thiblo. Daughter. Heavy, warm arms curled around her shoulders and drew her into a maternal embrace.
Oh, Winona, where is he? Wheres my baby? Maggie wailed into the older womans wool jacket.
I dont know. I miss him, too. Her shoulders shook with her own silent sobs and the two women stood holding each other until the storm passed.
After several minutes, Maggie pulled back and gave Winona a wobbly smile. Im sorry. I should be strong.
Look at me, she snorted. Im just as bad. Winonas brown eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and she rubbed at the moisture clinging to the sunkissed, leathery skin of her cheekbones. I love my hoksika. Little boy. Her words were a mix of English and the sometimes harsh, yet beautiful native Lakota language shed grown up speaking with her parents and grandparents.
Maggie paced in front of the government-issued metal desk littered with files and work shed thought so important only yesterday. Now nothing was as important as finding Dakota. She stopped and faced her sons caregiver. The woman who was more a grandmother, more than a babysitter to her child. Why, Winona? Why would someone take my son?
Joe will find him and ciks agli. And bring your son home. Her voice rang with conviction as she stood with her back ramrod-straight and her ample shoulders pushed back. Winonas waist-length hair hung in long braids over her shoulders, the gray ropes a stark contrast to the black wool of her winter jacket. The woman was Lakota and her proud lineage shone through in her high cheekbones and deep-brown eyes. Then her shoulders slumped forward. Do you think one of the tribe took hoksika?
I dont know anyone but the teenagers and people of the tribe. Who else would take him? She hesitated for a moment and made a decision. Winona, I had a call this morning from the kidnapper.
Winonas eyes widened and she reached for Maggies hands. What did they say? What did they want?
Maggies brows furrowed. Thats the problem. They want to use Dakota as a trade.
A trade for what?
I dont know. She threw her hands in the air and turned away, searching her office for the answer and coming up blank. She sighed and faced Winona. The man said something about trading Dakota for what was stolen.
What do you mean, what was stolen?
I wish I knew. Id give it to them. Hell, Id give them everything I own to get Dakota back.
Winonas eyes narrowed into a ferocious scowl and she tapped her finger to her chin. What would someone want so badly theyd take our hoksika?
Ive tried and tried to come up with something. But frankly, I dont have anything of value. And I certainly havent stolen anything.
You think the kidnapper is Lakota?
I think so. The meeting place is on the reservation at Coyote Butte. Maggie stepped behind her desk and sank into her battered office chair. I dont even know where that is, much less what I supposedly stole.
The older woman shook her head. I dont understand the ways of the young people of my tribe. Have they no shame? Drug use and alcoholism is a disgrace, child abuse unforgivable and that casino should never have been built.
I thought the tribe was happy about the money the casino brings to the community.
Winonas lips thinned. Money is not everything.
Your husband, Tom, works there, doesnt he? Having worked on the reservation for almost as long as the casino had been open, Maggie knew the benefits the tribe received from the profits. New roads, a new clinic and next year the new school would be complete. Whats wrong with the casino, other than the usual habitual gamblers?
Tom isnt sure, but he has the feeling there are illegal activities going on there. He just cant put his finger on it.
Maggie leaned forward. What makes him think that?
Hes a janitor, and as a janitor, hes somewhat invisible. He sees things. She shrugged. Thats all he will say.
Do you think someone from the casino took Dakota? Maggie pushed away from the desk and stood.
I dont know.
Ive never been there, even when Paul was alive.
Did Paul tell you anything about his work or the people there? Winona asked.
No. Maggie sat down again and buried her face in her hands. Ive made such a mess of my life. And poor Paul is dead.
Does Joe know Dakota is his son?
For a full five seconds, Maggies heart stopped beating. When it started up again, it pounded against her rib cage, threatening to burst out with the force of her lie. Slowly, she lifted her head from her hands and stared at Winona. How did you know?