“According to the Campbell boy, he found it somewhere below Powderhorn on Lake Eucha, which is exactly where Charlie lost his lure. The boy saw something shiny in the water, climbed down on the rocks to see what it was, and found the gun wedged between a couple of large boulders. Emma confessed to throwing it in the lake on her way back to Siloam Springs. She thought it would fall into the water, but it didn't make it that far.”
“That was kind of out of her way, wasn't it?”
“Yeah, but she needed to kill some time anyway. Remember, she didn't show up in Liberty until the day after Goldie was killed.”
Sadie thought for a moment. “What happened to Gertie's kid?”
“His Kiowa grandparents have him. I met them and they seem to be good people. They'll remember the good things about his mother and pass them on to him. Hopefully, he won't fall prey to drugs and alcohol the way Gertie did. I think he'll be all right. Kids are pretty resilient.”
Sadie could see Rosalee and Red walking up the sidewalk. Sadie got out and waited, then handed Rosalee an envelope. “Hi, Rosalee. I have the deed to the café for you. Red asked me to put the café in your name when he gave me the money.” They both looked at Red who stood staring at the ground. Sadie returned her attention to Rosalee. “I know it hasn't been very long, but I think you've proven you've got what it takes to persevere. It's a trait you must have inherited from your real mother and father. And I think Goldie would be proud to know that her daughter is the one who will carry on for her. And I won't mind if you change the name back to the Liberty Diner.”
“Oh, I could never do that,” Rosalee said.
“I think we should name it the Indian Café.” Red smiled and adjusted his hat.
Sadie laughed. “I know the regulars are anxious for the café to reopen, and I'm thrilled to be getting back to life in Eucha.”
“I will never be able to thank you enough, Sadie.”
“I'm sorry about Goldie,” said Sadie, “and Emma.”
Rosalee looked down. “It's kind of funny isn't it? I knew my mother all along. I just thought she was my aunt, a very special aunt. I wish I knew why she gave me away.”
“You know,” Red interrupted. “Your mother would have never given you up for adoption if Mickey hadn't been killed. She thought she was doing what was best for you. Nowadays, single women raise kids on their own all the time. But not back then. It was a different time, Rosalee.”
Rosalee held the envelope to her chest and smiled. Sadie pulled a small camera from her pocket, snapped a picture, and stepped back by Lance.
“I think everything worked out the way it was supposed to,” said Rosalee. “I have a wonderful new family. It's awesome. And that includes you, Sadie. I feel like we are family, too.” She looked at Red, then rummaged in her purse and pulled out a Creek tribal card. “Look, I'm a Creek citizen.”
Sadie took the card and read out loud. “Rosalee Skye Yahola. That's got a nice ring to it, Rosalee. You're not keeping Singer as your name?”
“No. I'm starting a new life. Red got my birth certificate unsealed and he's helping me with the legal work to change my name. That's what my name should have been all along, anyway. And besides that, I'm learning so much about my ancestors.” She smiled. “I am so happy.”
Red grinned and repositioned his hat. “Cehecakares,” he said, then walked away.
Sadie and Lance looked at each other with blank faces.
“It means, See you all later,” said Rosalee over her shoulder as she hurried to catch her uncle.
Sadie looked at Lance. “I think they're going to be just fine.”
“Yes, I agree.” He opened the car door and waited for Sadie to get in. “Let's see,” he said. “I think you owe me a horseback ride.”
“Let's go,” beamed Sadie, as Sonny barked his approval.
About the Author
Sara Sue Hoklotubbe is a Cherokee tribal citizen who loves to write about her people and transport readers into modern-day Cherokee life. She grew up on the banks of Lake Eucha in northeastern Oklahoma and uses that location as the setting for her mystery novels.
As author of Deception on All Accounts (The University of Arizona Press, 2003), Sara was named “Writer of the Year” by the Wordcraft Circle of Native Writers and Storytellers. She and her husband divide their time between Oklahoma and Colorado.
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