by Gigi Moore
She set her gaze on every child around them, taking in the variety of copper-toned faces and dark-eyed looks, searching for the little blond nipper who didn’t look like the others.
Dakota got off of Gambit and walked back to the wagon. “I will take you to him.”
Lily nodded as Wyatt, already out of the wagon, reached up his hand to help her down.
Another moment of truth was almost upon her.
She didn’t even want to think about the inevitability of her final one with Wyatt.
Chapter 21
Outside of Dakota, Wyatt had never been this close to an Indian he wasn’t trying to kill or who wasn’t trying to kill him.
He didn’t, however, feel threatened as Lily took his hand and stepped from the wagon. He didn’t know if it was Dakota’s presence or the ease with which Lily glanced around her that made him feel almost at home among Dakota’s people.
Wyatt supposed it didn’t hurt none that the people surrounding him were all youngins and looking at him and Lily with more inquisitiveness than hostility, like any other youngin might.
It struck him, too, that the kids were all well behaved, surprising him with their decidedly nonprimitiveness, if there was such a word. They were, in fact, some of the best-behaved children he had ever met, as well behaved as any of the white children he knew in Elk Creek.
Wyatt took a moment to admire the children and their clothing, the long buckskin dresses painted with yellow and green designs and beaded moccasins on the girls and the buckskin pants, breechcloths, and leather moccasins on the boys.
From just what he could see of the children, Wyatt decided that the Kiowas were not savages at all. These were a dignified people and, like his own, just trying to survive and make their way in the world.
One boy, a shirtless teenager standing several inches shorter than Dakota and Wyatt, but carrying himself much taller, stepped forward as if the representative for the group.
Wyatt noticed that his hair was cut short on the right-hand side and glanced around at some of the other boys to see the practice was common among the older males. He wondered if it had anything to do with a tribal ritual.
Dakota stepped to his side and whispered, “It is so that their hair does not tangle in their bowstrings. It is a tradition for the older boys.”
Wyatt nodded, thankful for Dakota’s perennial mind-reading abilities, or maybe he had just been staring that hard that his concern had been so evident to Dakota.
His heart ached again at the thought that he didn’t even know what his son looked like, whether his hair was short or long, blond like his or brown like his mother’s or…
The teen boy said something in his language.
Wyatt and Lily both turned to Dakota for translation.
“He asked if we are here for…for Light Hair.”
“Our son?” Wyatt asked.
Dakota nodded then said something to the teenager, who nodded in response and pointed to one of the larger teepees.
“Follow me,” Dakota said.
Wyatt took Lily’s hand as much to gather her strength as to give her his.
The children followed behind them, all the while whispering in their own tongue. A couple of the girls even touched Lily’s dress, smiling as the cotton material passed through their little fingers.
One girl in particular pointed to Lily’s crushable brown felt hat.
Wyatt stopped as Lily paused and smiled at the girl.
His wife had never been one to ignore a child, and this child was probably not much older than their son.
Wyatt wondered if the same comparisons that were going through his head at that moment were going through Lily’s head.
She had always loved children and she’d always been good with them, even when she had been but a child herself. Lily was a born teacher and nurturer and Wyatt knew how much it hurt her not to be teaching the way she had before her attack.
Lily crouched down beside the child. “Would you like to touch it?” She bent her head and the little girl stepped back before taking a tentative step forward and reaching out her hand.
Her breath left her parted lips in a little exclamation as her fingers caressed Lily’s hat. She said something in her language and pointed at Lily’s hat and then at her own dress.
“She said that your hat feels like her dress,” Dakota said.
Lily smiled and nodded before she stood beside Wyatt again. She raised her hand in a little wave at the girl.”See you soon, okay?”
The little girl nodded as if she understood.
Wyatt thought on some level she did then wondered how much translating Dakota would have to do between him, Lily, and their son.
Did his son speak English?
They arrived at the teepee and Wyatt had a moment to admire the colorful designs painted on the hide before Dakota announced his presence to whoever was inside.
A deep voice responded from within before Dakota pulled back the flap to enter. He turned to them at the last minute and said, “Follow me.”
Wyatt let Lily step inside before him, removing his hat and ducking slightly like Dakota to enter.
The inside of the teepee was cozy and a lot bigger than he thought it would be. He was able to stand up in the center without crouching at all, but didn’t remain standing for long.
“Grandfather.” Dakota nodded at the older man sitting against the farthest side of the teepee with his legs folded over each other.
“Grandson.” The older man nodded.
He had high, sculpted cheekbones like Dakota’s, his brown features stern and slightly lined. His hair was longer than Dakota’s, the gray-streaked black strands worn in two braids down each side of his head.
Rather than detracting from his masculine countenance, the braids only added to it.
“Grandfather, these are Little Wyatt’s parents.”
He nodded and pointed to a small pallet on the ground opposite him. “Please sit.”
Wyatt and Lily sat together and Dakota took a seat adjacent his grandfather.
Once they were all situated, the old man stared at Lily. “It has been a long time.”
Lily nodded. “I’ve missed you, Dyami.”
“And I you.” He turned his disapproving gaze to Dakota. “We were not told of your survival until a short time ago.”
Wyatt watched as Dakota’s face flooded with color.
“Our son is well?”
“We have been taking care of Little Wyatt as if he is our own.”
Wyatt tried not to take offense at the old man’s words, remembering what he had said to Dakota. It seemed that Lily and Wyatt were not the only ones Dakota had been dishonest with.
“We’re here to take him home,” Wyatt said.
“I know.” Dyami sighed as if he hadn’t been looking forward to this moment.
Wyatt reckoned the old man had a right to be in a state about their arrival as long as he didn’t give them any trouble about taking Little Wyatt away. “Where is he?”
“He is nearby.”
Dyami called out in his native tongue and it sounded like the name the teen boy had said to Dakota earlier.
A moment later the flap opened behind them.
Wyatt’s heart thudded so hard in his chest he could barely hear Lily’s gasp beside him as she turned. He watched as she stood and went to the opening, but didn’t turn himself. His earlier nerves had taken hold of him again.
What was he going to say to his son, a boy he didn’t know and who didn’t know him?
“Little Wyatt? Do you remember me?” Lily asked.
Wyatt couldn’t put it off any longer. He stood and turned just in time to see the little blond boy and Lily as they closed the space between each other.
“Khaw khaw?”
Lily took off her hat and hunkered down. “Yes. It’s me, Mommy.”
Little Wyatt paused, his blue eyes twinkling and widening before he grinned, and threw himself into his mother’s open arms.
Lily
almost toppled over with the force of the little boy’s body, laughing as she hugged him tight to her bosom and came to her feet.
Wyatt swallowed hard over the lump in his throat as he watched them.
Lily needn’t have worried about Little Wyatt accepting her back into his life. It was him who needed to worry about being accepted. He was a complete stranger. Lily was not.
He had to stop himself from resenting that fact. He knew the last year had been no picnic for Lily. She had been mired in unnecessary grief while he had been mired in unnecessary ignorance.
Wyatt caught the tears streaming down Lily’s face as she spun the boy and kissed his face over again and again as if she couldn’t believe he was real.
“Kee-own-day-daw!”
Wyatt heard the alien words leave his son’s mouth and Lily’s response of “I know. I know! It is, isn’t it?” and he felt totally left out. “Does he speak any English at all?” he asked no one in particular and it shocked him when Little Wyatt turned to him and answered.
“Oh yes. I speak English. Say-gee Dakota, Maw-Tame Kxee Daw. He is a teacher. Paw-ah-tday-gyah gaw thaw-koye tdoen-gyah aun ate khaumm-maw.”
Wyatt shook his head and Lily laughed and kissed Little Wyatt’s face again.
“He is excited and mixing his English with his Kiowa,” Dyami explained. “He said his Uncle Dakota is a teacher. He teaches the children how to play ball and teaches them English.”
Wyatt nodded, relieved that he would not have to struggle in order to communicate with his son and awed that his son could speak two languages when he spoke only one. “What did he say to you before?” he asked Lily.
“He called me Mother and said that this is a great day and I agreed.” Lily squeezed Little Wyatt to her and pressed her cheek against his.
“You still speak the language,” Dyami said, a note of wonder in his voice as he came to his feet and went to Lily.
“Not well. I remember a little.”
Little or not, it was enough to understand their son. “Can I?”
“Oh, of course!” Lily hurriedly lowered Wyatt to the ground and crouched down in front of him again, holding him by the shoulders. “Remember what I told you about your father?”
Little Wyatt nodded and gave Wyatt a wary look from the corner of his eyes as if he knew what Lily was going to say next and he wasn’t sure he was going to like it.
Lily stood and took Little Wyatt by the hand. “This is your father, honey.”
Little Wyatt tilted back his head to glance up at Wyatt and Wyatt quickly hunkered down in front of the boy like his mother had.
“Tdaw?”
Wyatt raised his questioning glance to Lily.
“He said ‘Dad.’”
“Yes. I’m…I’m your Tdaw.” Wyatt opened his arms the way Lily had done before him.
Little Wyatt reluctantly left Lily’s side, inching forward.
“It’s okay, honey. He won’t hurt you.”
That his own son might be afraid of him pierced Wyatt’s heart.
Little Wyatt stopped right in front of him, his gaze searching but not afraid, and Wyatt felt himself relax. He held himself still, however, when the little boy reached out to grasp his hair.
He glanced back at his mother with a look of surprise. “It’s soft and light like mine!”
“Yes, just like yours,” Lily said.
Wyatt heard her voice crack on the last word, too overwhelmed by his son to understand exactly how the reunion was affecting her.
Little Wyatt investigated further, staring into Wyatt’s eyes and looking back at his “Uncle” Dakota before returning his gaze back to Wyatt.
Before Dakota, Little Wyatt probably hadn’t met too many people with blue eyes like his own and certainly none with blond hair. Wyatt reckoned the little boy was as flummoxed by Wyatt as Wyatt was flummoxed by him.
Little Wyatt slid his hand from Wyatt’s hair to rest his palm against his father’s cheek and giggled. “It tickles.”
Wyatt smiled and raised a hand to rub his other cheek. “I was so excited about meeting you I forgot to shave.”
“I want to shave!”
“You’re too young yet, but when the time comes, I’ll show you how.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Wyatt couldn’t hold back and wrapped his arms around the child. He pulled him close and shut his eyes tight as Little Wyatt brought his arms up to return Wyatt’s hug.
The tears came then and, unashamed, Wyatt did nothing to stop them. “My son.”
* * * *
Dakota could not breathe.
Even after he stumbled out of the teepee, he still found himself gasping for breath and leaning against the buffalo hide as if someone had their hands wrapped around his throat and was choking off his air.
He had not realized how arrogant and self-righteous his behavior was. Not until Dyami expressed his displeasure with that one withering look had he understood the damage his secrets had caused. Not until he had seen Little Wyatt in the arms of his mother and father had he realized how many people he had hurt with his misguided morals and perceptions.
Dakota realized he had manipulated and taken advantage of many in his quest for the perfect solution. He had abused his position as Dyami’s grandson and especially taken advantage of the women of his tribe in his conspiracy.
They had, however, been only too happy to keep Little Wyatt and raise him as their own, more than willing to become his substitute mother and aunts. They had not asked too many questions about Lily and had not looked any further for the truth than what Dakota had fed them. They, like Dakota, had wanted to believe that they were doing the right thing, the best thing for the child. Some of the women had never fully accepted Lily as one of their own even as they had cherished her child.
Dakota had thought he protected someone too young and vulnerable to take care of and protect himself. He had allowed the memories of his own childhood pain to interfere with his decisions involving Little Wyatt.
Now, however, his actions were coming back to haunt him.
How was he ever going to make it up to Lily and Wyatt? How was he ever going to make it up to Dyami and Little Wyatt?
“You left.”
Surprised, Dakota jerked around to see Lily standing beside him.
“I didn’t think it was possible to sneak up on you.” She smiled. “You must have a lot on your mind.”
When she reached out to put a hand on his cheek, Dakota retreated. He saw the flash of hurt in her eyes, but he did not deserve her sympathy and he knew he would only hurt her and her family more if he stayed around her.
Lily let her hand drop, but made no move to leave. She simply smiled and asked, “You’re not thinking again of leaving us, are you?”
“Do you not think that would be best for all concerned?”
“I do not.”
“Lily—”
“Would you deny Little Wyatt your company?”
“He has you and Wyatt to take care of him, as it should be.”
“But you are Say-gee Dakota. He needs you just as much as he needs us, maybe more so. It would be traumatic taking his only link to the tribe away so suddenly. You need to stay around, with us, if only for continuity.”
Dakota could not help himself. He was greedy and asked, “Is that the only reason you want me to stay around?”
Lily took a step closer and this time she did put her hand on his face. She searched his gaze with hers, unflinching.
How could he have thought that Little Wyatt needed anyone except his mother and father to protect him? They were solid and strong and they were the little boy’s blood.
“You know it’s not the only reason, Dakota. We want you to stay around—Wyatt and I—because we love you.”
For a long moment Dakota did not say anything. He could not, certain that he would say or do the wrong thing.
He would stay, he told himself, but only long enough to help Little Wyatt become accustomed to being away from the reservat
ion, Dyami, and the rest of the tribe. He would stay only long enough to say good-bye to them all.
* * * *
He followed as close behind their party as he could without them picking up his trail. He was as good a tracker as anyone, even that Indian. Yet, once they all reached their destination, he regretted his decision to keep an eye on the threesome the moment he understood where they were going and who they were going to visit.
Lily had a child.
If he had not panicked when Lily wouldn’t wake up and he had finished what he had started with her five years ago, he might have been tempted to believe the boy was his. The boy looked about the right age, after all. He, however, could not be the boy’s father no matter how much he wished it. Still, admitting the obvious, that Wyatt was the child’s father, stuck in his craw. Even from this distance, though, he could see the tell-tale coloring and features and couldn’t deny his enemy’s paternity. The boy was a miniature version of his father, all the more reason to hate both of them and the Indian who had brought them all together.
Was this why the savage had been snooping around Wyatt and Lily’s property weeks ago?
No matter, except that now the child the Indian had evidently been keeping under wraps was just one more person obstructing his plans, blocking his path to Lily.
If he didn’t think the woman was worth the trouble, he would have given up on this errand of making her his a long time ago.
For the last year he had been getting by on his memories, wrapping them around himself like a comfortable old blanket for that feeling of security and warmth that he craved from a woman. Next to being in a female, feeling that tight clutch of inner muscles around his cock when he pumped inside her pussy, there was nothing like that feeling of being home and feeling safe—the feeling he had gotten from Lily all those years ago.
Despite the brevity of their encounter, despite the abrupt ending of it, he knew with Lily he would always have these feelings and more. She was nothing like his wife had been and he knew she would bear him worthier children, worthier than the one she bore Wyatt and worthier than his own.