Lakota Baby

“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. “I’ve made such a mess of my life. And poor Paul is dead.”

“Does Joe know Dakota is his son?”

For a full five seconds, Maggie’s 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?”

“Dakota may have your red hair, but he has the skin and eyes of his father’s people.”

Maggie jumped to her feet, and grabbed Winona’s hands. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

Pudgy brown fingers patted hers. “I won’t tell what is not mine to tell. But why?”

“Joe didn’t want me because I wasn’t Lakota.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Winona waved her hand around the room filled with pictures of the teens Maggie worked with on a daily basis. “You care about our children more than most of the people on the reservation.”

“He said I didn’t fit in his way of life. I didn’t belong.” She dropped Winona’s hand and turned to the window overlooking the indoor basketball court.

“Men can say stupid things when they’re going off to war. They aren’t in their right minds.” Winona’s lips twisted. “If he’d known about the baby—”

“No!” The old hurt and fear surfaced and Maggie frowned. “I was scared. Afraid that if I told him about the baby, he’d take him away from me and raise him within the tribe. I’d lost Joe, I couldn’t lose my baby as well.” And if he’d decided to marry her, he’d have been doing it out of obligation, not love. She couldn’t stand to be an obligation. She’d thought she’d be better off marrying someone else than being in love with a man who’d never love her in return.

“So you married Paul?”

“Yes.” Maggie’s chin tilted up. “I thought if I married Paul, everyone would think Dakota was his. I made him promise not to tell.”

“What was in it for Paul?”

Paul. Dear, sweet Paul. Regret burned in Maggie’s gut. In her attempt to protect herself and her son, she’d put Paul in the situation she most wanted to avoid. Paul had stepped in when she was desperate, but despite his love for her all she felt for him was platonic affection. She’d tried to sleep with him but couldn’t, not with the knowledge she still loved her baby’s father. He’d given up his chance to choose a woman who’d love him to help Maggie. And he’d died before she could make things right. “Paul loved me.”

“You should tell Joe about Dakota. He has the right to know. Especially, since it’s his son who’s missing.”

“I know.” Maggie clasped her hands together, twisting the simple gold band around her ring finger. She’d insisted she didn’t want a diamond engagement ring. A band was all that was necessary to keep her secret.

She slipped the ring from her finger and shoved it into her pocket. “You’re right, Winona. I should tell him. But I want to be the one who tells him. Please don’t mention it. The news should come from me.”

“Yes. It should.” Winona touched a hand to Maggie’s cheek. “I promised Tom I’d fix lunch for him. Will you be all right alone? I could tell him to fix his own lunch.”

“No. I’ll be fine.” Winona’s offer to stay with her touched her. She’d made a few lasting friendships over the two years she’d worked at the reservation. Maggie trusted the older woman with her life and that of her son. She was the family Maggie didn’t have.

“Call me if you need anything. Even if only for a shoulder to cry on, thiblo.”

“Pilamaya.” Maggie responded with one of the few Lakota words she knew. Then she pulled the older woman into her arms and hugged her tightly, struggling to be strong when all she wanted to do was curl into a fetal position and cry. “I miss my baby.”

“I know, I know.” Winona patted her back once more and then held her at arm’s length and said, “Trust him.” After a long hard look, the old Lakota woman left.

The empty gym echoed with the sound of the outside door closing behind her. A blast of icy wind filtered across the concrete floors to send a chill across Maggie’s skin. She wrapped her arms around her middle, shivering, and wondered if Dakota was warm enough.

The door screeched open and Maggie looked up, half hoping Joe would walk through. Her hopes died when Leotie Jones slipped through and advanced across the concrete with her high-heeled boots grating against the silence. “Oh, good, you’re here,” was her only greeting. No How are you? or Hello.

Maggie squeezed her eyelids shut for a moment and willed Leotie to go away. I don’t need this. Not now. Then she opened her eyes and forced herself to be pleasant, something that wasn’t easy around the self-centered woman. “Leotie,” she said, dipping her head in acknowledgement.

“I just stopped by to tell you how sorry I was about your baby.” She cinched the belt circling the waistline of her long, black leather jacket.

“Thanks.” She couldn’t help it that the one word implied anything but gratitude. Leotie had had it in for her from the first day Maggie had set foot on the reservation. Or should she say from the first day she’d run into Joe Lonewolf and instant attraction had practically ignited the dry prairie grass all around the youth center? Leotie considered Joe her territory and saw Maggie as an encroaching outsider. She’d done everything in her power to get between Maggie and Joe and spoil any chance of a blossoming relationship.

“I was hoping we could forget about the past and, you know, let bygones be bygones, and all that.” Leotie stared around Maggie into her office. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Although her words sounded cheerful, the slight curl of her lip indicated she wasn’t impressed with the sparse furnishings or the two hard plastic chairs positioned in front of Maggie’s desk.

“Normally, I would. But there’s nothing normal about the way I feel today.” She stared hard at Leotie, hoping she’d get the message and leave. “Leotie, I’d rather be alone.”

“I see.” Leotie’s forced smile turned into a sneer and she crossed her arms over her ample chest, flipping her red-streaked black hair over her shoulder. “Joe’s working the case, isn’t he?”

This was more Leotie’s style—cut to the chase. Maggie braced herself for the attack. “Yes, Joe’s working the case.”

“You know he’ll never marry you, don’t you?”

“I didn’t ask him.”

“Well, don’t.” Her eyes narrowed. “He won’t ever marry you. He has too much of his father in him to care about a white woman.”

“I said, I didn’t ask him.” If Leotie didn’t get the hell out soon, Maggie was afraid she’d say or do something she’d regret. She had to remind herself not to rise to Leotie’s bait, to take the high road. But her emotions were raw and she wasn’t in the mood.

Mentally, she counted to ten.

One.

“If he marries, he’ll choose a Lakota woman.”

Two.

“Like me.”

Three.

“Do we understand each other?”

Four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten! “Leave, Leotie.” Maggie pointed to the door, her lips set in a firm tight line, afraid if she opened them again, she’d spew forth venom.

“Fine.” Leotie tugged at the belt of her already tight coat and flipped her hair back again. “Just remember—”

Maggie’s control snapped. “Out!”

Leotie snorted and spun on her heel, marching to the door. But she couldn’t leave without a parting shot. “Just because he’s helping you doesn’t mean anything.”

With her tongue pinched between her teeth, Maggie only pointed to the door.

Leotie flung the heavy metal door open and it crashed against the building, bouncing back to smack into her shoulder. She swore and shot a glance backward as if to see if Maggie had seen her fit of temper backfire.