“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.
Served her right. The bitch didn’t know what love was. Joe deserved someone who really cared for him and the people of his tribe. Not a venomous witch like Leotie, who only cared about herself. He needed someone kind, caring and devoted to his people.
Someone like you? A niggling voice asked the question in Maggie’s head.
No. Not a red-headed white woman.
Best stick to worrying about Dakota. Joe was out of reach.
She walked into her office and closed the door.
AS SOON AS Joe entered the station he asked, “Any leads from the Amber Alert?”
“A couple of sightings of women carrying babies into stores in Rapid City.” Del shrugged. “The babies were theirs.”
“Do you have anything on the graffiti on Mag—Mrs. Brandt’s house?” Her married name burned an acid path down his throat and gave him the worst case of heartburn he’d known since returning from Iraq.
Del slid a sideways glance at him, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. “Bother you that she married Paul after you left?”
“No,” Joe lied. Hell yes, it bothered him. The tarmac hadn’t even cooled from the plane taking off before she’d married Paul.
What galled him most was who she had married.
His stepbrother.
Paul had been nothing but a thorn in his side since his mother had married Kevin Brandt. The six-year-old boy had followed him around like a lost puppy, mimicking his every move.
Now that Paul was gone, Joe realized how much he missed his stepbrother and had to admit he’d enjoyed the hero-worship when they were younger.
“What makes a woman go out with one man and marry another the next day?” Del asked, and then winced. “Sorry, that’s pretty personal.”
“She had the right.”
“I thought you two would make a go of it before you left.”
“Well, we didn’t.” Joe moved through the crowded office to his desk in the corner and stared down at the neat top, as yet uncluttered with a full workload. He’d been easing back into his old job as chief of tribal police. Until today. The kidnapping had thrown him full-force back into work. “Did you find out who left the graffiti on her house?”
“Not yet. I bet it’s one of the druggies that hangs out with the Sukas Gang. My inside source says one of them has a gripe against your Maggie for the death of his girlfriend, Kiya Driskall.”
The Sukas Gang had been growing before Joe had left for his tour of duty, but he’d thought their numbers manageable and somewhat contained. And from the police report, Kiya’s death had been attributed to drug overdose. “Kiya’s death wasn’t Maggie’s fault.”
“We know that, but for some reason Randy Biko hasn’t figured that out.”
“Randy? I thought he’d turned around and straightened up his act?”
Del shrugged. “A lot changes in a year.”
“Apparently.” Not for the first time that day, Joe regretted the timing of his call to service with his South Dakota National Guard unit. He wondered if things would have been different if he hadn’t gone. Would he have turned his back on Maggie? Would Kiya Driskall still be alive? Would the gangs have expanded whether or not he’d been here? He’d never