by Kayn, Debra
They filed out of the house single file, splitting into two groups. Trace held the truck door open for Joan, but laid his hand on her arm.
"Wait," he whispered, gazing off into the field.
She gazed up at him, and then followed his line of vision and blinked. "Oh, my God, is that…?"
He nodded. "Stay here."
Across the road, on the other side of the fence, Thunderbolt stood still. Trace walked straight toward him, never dropping his gaze. He never thought he'd see the horse again, except on the lucky chance he snuck up on the herd while out riding.
His steps slowed as he strode across the gravel. Thunderbolt tossed his head and nickered. The tension in Trace's shoulders eased, and he approached his friend.
"Waste, Wakiya Hotop" He dropped his chin to his chest and waited.
Thunderbolt nosed Trace's hair, skimming his cheek. He chuckled low, so not to frighten the rare gift Thunderbolt gave him with this visit.
"Today's the day, my friend," whispered Trace. "I have received everything I've wished for lately, and I'm scared to death that this last thing I need to do will not work out. That somehow the elders will not find me worthy enough to love Savannah."
Thunderbolt stomped his front hoof.
Trace lifted his gaze. "Thank you."
The horse reared up and batted the air above Trace's head. He did not flinch. Thunderbolt had earned his trust, and given it back to him.
The horse ran away. He watched the skyline, until Thunderbolt disappeared out of sight. "Peace be with you, Wakiya Hotop."
Trace returned to the pickup, and he and Joan led the caravan to the reservation. Joan sat in the middle of the seat, her hand clutched in his. Lost in his thoughts, he prayed that everything would go through okay and the council would grant them custody of Savannah.
The horror of the fire played heavily on Savannah's mind, and she couldn't accept the fact that her father was gone. She searched for him wherever she went, and the Blacktails had said she would run away to spend hours in the abandoned house, not understanding that she was safe with her new caregivers.
Savannah had a long road ahead of her, but he believed that all she needed was love and time to blossom. He gazed at Joan. She would be there for Savannah every step of the way, showing her that anything was possible.
They'd buy her the best doctor to talk her through her healing, and supply her with enough love that she would gain back the childhood she lost.
Trace pulled into the parking area in front of the community house. He shut off the truck and breathed deeply. He hadn't gone before the elder, since the allegations of child neglect were brought up against his father when Trace was eight, only a year older than Savannah.
The Lakota court system failed him then, and he was sick inside to know what today would do to Savannah. His fingers curled around the steering wheel. The one good thing about today was Savannah's father was not around to beat her for shaming her the way his father had done to him.
"I'm scared." Joan lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. "I'm afraid my being white will stop us from winning."
He pulled her into his embrace. "If that happens, it has nothing to do with what color you are, but the unbending rules of my people. All we can do is our best."
They exited the truck, approached Devon, Katie, and Brody. As a group, with Trace and Joan leading the way, they walked into the building.
He spotted Savannah right away. Sitting in the front row, her head bowed, and her hair combed back into a single braid. His chest tightened. No child should ever cower in fear.
The preceding elder nodded at Trace and motioned for him to approach the table. "Is everyone here?"
All four members were in their late sixties to early eighties. Yellowdog, the eldest member served on the council the day Trace had reached out for help and been denied. He squeezed Joan's hand, needing her strength.
"Yes." He stiffened his back and held his head high.
"Very well." Yellowdog leaned forward. "We're here to discuss the permanent custody of Savannah Johnson. What we'd like to hear today is why you believe she should be taken off the land of her ancestors, and raised beyond the sanctuary of the Lakota walls."
Trace cleared his throat and stepped forward, alone. "It is not my wish to take Savannah away from her heritage and our people. If we are chosen to raise her for the rest of our lives, we will support her need to belong to the Cold Crow tribe of the Lakota."
"If this is the case, wouldn't she be better off living with one of the many families who have room for another child? Where she can participate in the communal activities of her people?" Yellowdog lifted his brow and sat back in his chair.
Trace clenched his fists, turned his head toward Savannah, and allowed the love he had for her to flow through his body. He turned to the elders. He was no longer a child who needed protected, and he knew what he had to do.
"Not many people know my story," he said softly. "I've kept my years growing up on the reservation a secret my whole life. The two men, one of them the chief's wife's brother, another one is Little Bird's grandson, are men I call my heroes. They saved me from starvation, took care of me after every beating I received since I was six years old. Simply put, they kept me alive when I should have died numerous times. All these years, I have not spoken of my life. Even my otakuyayas know only the small amount of which I shared with them, and without questioning, gave me help when I needed it."
He swallowed. "My wife does not know the full extent of what I have lived through and I find myself battling my reluctance to tarnish her opinion of me and my people."
Joan stepped up beside him and slipped her fingers into his hand, supporting him. He straightened his shoulders and looked straight at Yellowdog. "I stood in front of you twenty-six years ago when you investigated charges brought against my father for child neglect. Instead of being taken away from a father who beat me until I couldn't move or he collapsed from exhaustion, whichever one came first, I was sent home and told that I belonged to my father and must stay on Lakota land."
"Many years went by and the only thing that kept me from killing my father was my deep belief that his sins would come back to him in the afterlife, and he'd pay his dues. I was taught to respect my father. Instead, I learned how to hide, to lie still as his foot slammed into my spine, and how lonely it could be when you live within your mind, not trusting the people who are supposed to love you." He glanced at Savannah.
She'd raised her head and listened to him intently. He nodded, wanting her to know they'd both survive. "Today isn't about me, it's about Savannah."
"I am the best person to raise Savannah, because I believe she's worthy of my love. I have financially supported her for three years; have camped outside her house on more occasions than I can count to make sure her drug addicted father did not enter her home to beat her again." Trace inhaled through his nose. "I do not want to strip her of her heritage, but show her the proper way to respect her people. I want to teach her, teach myself, what we were not taught as children."
Joan squeezed his hand. "May I say something?"
Yellowdog nodded.
"Trace, along with Brody and Devon donated the Hope Clinic to the Lakota. I've had the privilege of working…"
Joan's voice faded to somewhere in the distance. Trace's heart pounded. He flexed his legs, in an attempt not to collapse. He had to make sure Savannah had a better start to her life than he had.
Yellowdog rounded the table and approached him. "Trace. This is an unusual situation we have here. You know how much we want to preserve the Lakota community and grow. Our numbers dwindle every year as children grow up and find the outside more enticing and exciting."
"Yes." He reached for Joan's hand.
"I'm in my later years, and don't have much more time on this earth." Yellowdog's mouth tightened and he didn't seem as intimidating as he did when Trace was eight years old. "I see things more clearly than I did as a young man who was gung ho to show everyo
ne how proud and brave I had become. I would like to be the first person to thank you for listening to your heart. For all reasons, I can understand why you would run away from your pain, but it takes a strong man to meet them head on."
Trace held out his hand. "Not strong, just stubborn."
Yellowdog nodded. "I'm inclined to grant you permanent custody of Savannah Johnson on two conditions."
"Anything." Trace held his breath.
"You accept my apology for not seeing the truth all those years ago." Yellowdog grasped his hand and held it tight. "And, you use all that love you have stored within your heart on your new family."
He blinked back the tears. "I promise."
Chapter Thirty-Five
Standing in front of the Lakota ranch with two layers of clothes on and wearing a pair of mittens, Joan hid behind Trace's body. She squealed and pushed Trace forward, into the oncoming attack.
"Are you going to let them do that to me?" She laughed. "I thought you were supposed to help me. We're on the same team."
Trace handed her two already made snowballs and motioned for her to follow him. She stomped through the snow, holding on to the back of Trace's coat. She couldn't believe the weather changed almost overnight, and the first snowfalls had happened as they slept.
The last month flew by with everything happening. Between getting Katie and Savannah on the bus every morning before heading to work at the clinic, and then helping with the chores, Joan always looked forward to the weekends when everyone was together at the ranch.
She caught sight of Katie helping Savannah make more snowballs, and smiled. Savannah never questioned them about her father after they explained that he'd died in the house fire. Although the doctor Savannah saw twice a week told them both that Savannah was opening up more and questioning what was going on, she still tended to pretend that her life on the reservation never existed.
Trace made sure Savannah went back to the reservation often and learned to bolster through her new fears. He didn't want her to go through most of her life worrying and doubting the way he had.
Brody popped up in front of her. "Hey Joan!"
"No, no, no…" She tried to turn and run, but the snow was too deep and she fell to her knees. "Trace!"
Devon came out of nowhere and Trace crouched down beside her, covering her with his body while Devon pummeled them with snowballs. She laughed, letting Trace take the brunt of the attack.
Soon their ammunition ran out, and they all agreed hot chocolate sounded good right now.
"Before we go in, I want to show you all something." Devon motioned them over to the trailer hitched behind the tractor.
As they all clambered up and took a seat, Devon drove, pulling them through the snow to the stables. Joan held Savannah on her lap, warming her up. Trace in return put his arm around Joan's shoulders and rubbed her arm. She smiled up at him. Devon had informed her a couple months ago on what he planned to do, and she couldn't wait.
The tractor stopped, and Devon hurried them all inside the stable and closed the door. He motioned Katie to stand by him, and she skipped to his side. Katie still had a young crush on her idol and Joan hoped when her sister left for college in the fall, Katie would learn a relationship with a man seventeen years older was foolish. Devon would never see her for anything more than a young girl who tagged his every step.
Devon stood behind Katie and put his hands on her shoulders. "After a long time of listening to Katie's dream of opening a stable and offering riding lessons, amateur rodeo, and horse boarding when she's older, I've given it serious thought, crunched a few numbers, and I think this would be a great business for Lakota ranch."
Katie whipped her head around. "What? Really?"
Devon turned her back around, pointed in front of her, and watched Brody remove the horse blanket off the table to reveal a scaled down model of a horse arena and stable. "Go check out, Katie's Equestrian Emporium."
"Oh, my God." She shrieked and ran to peer inside the model, squealed again, and headed back to Devon to give him a teary-eyed hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Hang on, kiddo." He stepped back and gave her a pointed look. "There are a few stipulations. I've talked things over with everyone, especially your sister, and we have some conditions that must be kept."
Katie nodded. "Anything."
"First, you're going to college in the fall after you graduate this June, and you will become a veterinarian like you dreamed. We'll need an on-site vet at Lakota ranch." Devon lowered his voice. "Second thing we want you to do is make sure you come back in the summer, to your home, and help us with the ranch. We're gonna miss your sassy mouth around here, and we want you to know this will always be your home…even if you decide to move away sometime in the future."
She shook her head, and wiped her cheeks. "Never. I'm gonna stay here forever."
Joan hugged Katie. She whispered, "Say thank you."
"Oh shit. I forgot." Katie laughed
Trace coughed. "Katie…"
"Sorry, Trace. Ex-nay the it-shay." She grinned, not looking a bit sorry because she knew she got away with everything around the men. "It just slipped out. I promise."
After Katie made the rounds, thanking everyone, Trace stepped out into the aisle and called for attention. "There's one more thing. I know you didn't have a horse when you lived in Durham, Katie, but now that you live on Lakota ranch we can't have you without your own mount."
Katie covered her mouth, finally knocked speechless for the first time since moving onto the ranch. Joan held Savannah's hand and squeezed.
Trace walked down the aisle, grabbed a lead rope, and continued to the far stall. He returned, leading a small black mustang. Beside the mustang was a one-month-old filly. Joan pulled Savannah up in front of her, so she could see the horses.
"Before I married your sister, I bought this pretty mare with you in mind. She's all heart, and with a little bit of training, she'll make you a fine mount." Trace handed the lead rope to Katie.
"Thank you, Trace." Katie threw her arms around the mustang's neck and kissed the horse. "She's beautiful."
Trace squatted in front of Savannah. "Hey princess, don't think I forgot about you. It's time to put you to work around here. I was thinking you're just old enough to make sure the little filly gets fed and watered every morning, and claim her as your horse."
Savannah nodded. "I can do that. Katie lets me help her. I know how."
"I thought so." Trace held his hand out. "How about we go pet your new horse? She won't be ready to ride for a couple years but in the meantime, you can ride with any of us when we go out. For right now, you need to love the pretty, little baby, and care for her."
Savannah petted the filly's nose. "Can I name her?"
Trace winked at Joan. "She's your horse, so giving her a name is your responsibility."
Savannah bit down on her lip, tilted her head, studied the horse, and then said. "Dee-wah-hay."
Trace's arm came around Joan and pulled her close. She gazed up at him for translation, but he hesitated, moisture growing thicker in his eyes and the muscle in his jaw ticked. She looked to Brody and then Devon for an answer, but they appeared to be struggling to hold it together too.
"What does it mean?" she whispered to Trace.
He kissed her hard. "It means family."
The End
Biography
Top Selling Romance Author, Debra Kayn, lives with her family in the beautiful coastal mountains of Oregon on a hobby farm. She enjoys riding motorcycles, gardening, playing tennis, and fishing. A huge animal lover, she always has a dog under her desk when she writes and chickens standing at the front door looking for a treat. She's famous in her family for teaching a 270 lb hog named Harley to jog with her every morning.
Her love of family ties and laughter makes her a natural to write heartwarming contemporary stories to the delight of her readers. Oh, let's cut to the chase. She loves to write about REAL MEN and the WOMEN who love them.
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When Debra was nineteen years old, a man kissed her without introducing himself. When they finally came up for air, the first words out of his mouth were…will you have my babies? Considering Debra's weakness for a sexy, badass man, who is strong enough to survive her attitude, she said yes. A quick wedding at the House of Amour and four babies later, she's living her own romance book.
You can visit Debra's website at www.debrakayn.com
Debra Kayn's books
Chantilly's Cowboy
Val's Rancher
Margot's Lawman
Florentine's Hero
Biker Babe in Black
Ride Free
Double Agent
Love Rescued Me
Betraying the Prince
Resurrecting Charlie's Girl
Where There's Smoke
Wildly
Coming Soon
Homemade Hijinks
Breathing His Air
Suite Cowboy
Seductively