by Donna Fasano
Dakota understood what his grandfather attempted to convey. But he wasn’t as upset about being the result of rape as he was disturbed by how he’d totally misjudged his mother.
“I’ve thought terrible things about her,” he told Grayson. “For years I’ve been resentful.”
Grayson patted Dakota’s shoulder. “You can make it right, Dakota. You know what to do.”
~oOo~
In a flash, Lyssa was awake, alert. She lay in the darkness, still and barely breathing, wondering what it was that had nudged her into consciousness. Low, melodious tones seeped into her brain and had her sitting up on the edge of the mattress. Without thought, she scooted her feet into her slippers, snatched up her robe, and was out the bedroom door even as she slipped her arms into the sleeves and tied the sash.
The house was dark and quiet, and Lyssa continued to search for the faint but haunting tune.
The orange glow coming from outside drew her to the window. Flames licked at the night sky. A small fire burned at the far end of the backyard. And it was from there that the poignant strains were emanating.
A shiver coursed over every inch of her skin when she realized that it was Dakota’s voice she heard. He was out there in the night… singing.
She hadn’t seen him all day long. Earlier in the afternoon, he’d been tearing down the old gazebo. She’d watched as he’d disappeared into the thicket of trees with his grandfather. But he hadn’t come in for dinner, and he still hadn’t made an appearance when she’d decided to go to bed.
She opened the back door and the hinges squeaked like tiny mice. Light from inside the house arrowed into the darkness. Dakota’s singing ceased.
He sat cross-legged facing the flames. He swiveled his head to look her way, his long hair glistening, the fire turning his bare upper body a tawny copper.
Dakota motioned for her to join him, and Lyssa didn’t hesitate.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” he said.
“Don’t be. I’m sorry I disturbed you.” She got the feeling that something about him was… different. The tension in him had eased. “You disappeared today with Grayson. I’ve been thinking about you.”
“I needed some time alone.” His gaze drifted to the fire, then he looked back up at her. He patted the ground beside him, inviting her to sit.
The grass was cool and she huddled into her robe. “It’s chilly out here, but the fire is toasty.”
“Yes,” he agreed.
There it was again, she thought, recognizing that familiar awareness that constantly purred between them.
Finally, he said, “You’ll be happy to know that I spoke with my grandfather about my mother.”
Was that the cause of this lightness she sensed about him? She certainly hoped so.
“I’ve wronged her,” he said, his tone heavy with regret. “Terribly.”
Silence stretched out, and Lyssa didn’t know what to say. She wanted to ask him why he’d built the fire. Why and what he chanted. Why he sat out here in the darkness. But all of those inquiries seemed too personal to voice.
Nearly another full minute passed before she was able to say, “Your song… it was beautiful. You were singing in your native language?”
He nodded. “I don’t know much Algonquian. But Grandfather taught me some. That was the Prayer of Reparation. I am making amends to my mother’s spirit. The smoke from the fire carries my sorrowful words to her. Hopefully, she will forgive me.”
The concept was touching, and Lyssa smiled. “I should leave you in peace.” But when she moved to get up, he reached out and touched her forearm.
“I’d like you to stay,” he said. “It is only because of you that I’m able to put this to rest. To let go of my anger and all the bitterness. It’s because of you that I realized my offense, that I’m able to offer apology. Had you not urged me to seek the truth, who knows how long I would have held on to all those negative feelings?”
Contentment had her sighing. She liked thinking that she’d helped Dakota put his demons to rest. Well, some of them, anyway.
“Will you stay?” he asked.
A tremulous feeling had her weak in the knees and she doubted her legs would have carried her back to the house had she wanted them to. But she didn’t want them to. There wasn’t another place she wanted to be more than right here, sitting on the cool grass next to Dakota.
“I’d love to.”
His voice was rich, the ancient words he intoned lyrical. His song reached down into the deepest depths of her, stirred her soul. The air, warmed by the dancing flames, opaque with smoke billowing heavenward, took on an acute reverence. Lyssa had never been a religious person, but a sense of sanctity seemed to envelope them. A purity that inspired her awe.
In that moment, she was instinctively sure that Dakota’s mother not only heard his prayer, but forgave her son the error of his misplaced antagonism.
Also in that moment, Lyssa came to yet another solid conclusion. Here on Misty Glen Reservation was where she wanted to raise her child. Here in this beautiful place where peace abounded. Where life was slow and easy. Where a person could breathe, and feel free and unafraid.
Lyssa was gifted with a third and final piece of pure, unadulterated knowledge. The love she felt for the man sitting next to her was genuine, honest, sincere. True love that came directly from the heart.
The emotions that had spurred her first marriage had been shallow and self-serving. And it was no wonder that her egocentric actions had led her into nothing but a mess. But she was desperately trying to change that. She was a different person now. She cared. And she fully accepted responsibility for herself. For her ghastly choices. For her child.
With a baby to think about, she’d forced herself to see the superficiality of the life she’d created back in California. And she also saw that that existence just might psychologically harm her son or daughter. Dakota had helped her become brave enough to stop running, to stand strong, and face it all. And for that, she’d be forever in his debt.
The love she felt for him might never be returned. But right at this most sacred moment while the two of them sat together before the ceremonial fire, that didn’t seem to matter.
What mattered was the joy that filled Lyssa, that had her smiling and feeling peaceful. Content.
That was what she wanted for her child. That was what she intended to provide for her baby. And no one—not Rodney with his harassment and intimidation, not the entire Gaines family—could keep her from it.
~oOo~
The next day, Dakota was hiking his way around Misty Lake even before the sun had risen. He carried a pack of medical supplies and nonperishable foodstuffs. He was on a mission.
The person he intended to visit probably would not be happy to see him, but his conscience wouldn’t allow him to wait one day longer to make this trip into the mountains. The cabin couldn’t be far now, Dakota surmised. It had been years since he’d visited the hunting lodge, the last time being when he was probably thirteen or fourteen. He smiled at the memories of the rowdy times he’d spent—
A flurry of movement on the path directly in front of him made him jump nearly out of his skin.
“Chay!” he shouted, adrenaline pumping. “Damn it! Do you have to hurl yourself on me like that?”
His cousin laughed. “You’re crashing around like a wild bull out here. Any good Indian could hear you coming for miles.”
Slightly embarrassed at having been caught off guard, Dakota continued his hike. “Yeah, well, there’s not much call for creeping unnoticed into the enemy’s camp these days.”
“That’s good,” Chay wisecracked, falling into step beside him, “because you’d have been taken prisoner an hour ago.”
“You’ve been tracking me for an hour? Geez, cuz—” he shrugged his way out of the backpack “—the least you could have done is offered to carry my pack for a while.” He handed it over. “They’re for you, by the way. Medical supplies and some canned goods. Mat thought you
could use them.”
“That lousy, no-good brother of yours never could keep a secret.”
“He thought you might need some medical attention,” Dakota told his cousin, shaking his head at the scowl Chay leveled on him. He knew his cousin’s bark was worse than his bite. “And someone to talk to.”
Like Dakota, Chay wore his hair long. His cousin’s jeans were worn, his hiking boots dusty, but Dakota could clearly see that Chay was physically fit. However, something dark clouded Chay’s onyx gaze.
A small log cabin came into view and Dakota continued to trudge toward it.
“The body is fine,” his cousin finally replied. His frown darkened further as he added, “It’s the mind that’s unsettled.”
Neither man spoke until they reached the front porch. Dakota felt winded as he climbed the few steps and flopped down on the top tread. Working in an office day in and day out was making him soft.
“Did Mat tell Grandfather I’m here?” Chay queried.
Dakota shook his head. “He wouldn’t break your confidence to that degree. But you should come down. See him. He’d be hurt to think you’ve been here, what—it’s been weeks, Mat said—yet you haven’t come to the rez.”
A gloominess seemed to fall over Chay’s countenance. “I need to be alone. Besides, I’m afraid our grandfather just may be part of my problem.”
Something in Chay’s tone kept Dakota from inquiring further about his cousin’s odd comment.
“I’ll come for a visit,” Chay assured him. “When I’m ready.”
Softly, Dakota probed, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“There’s not anything anyone can do. I need to work this out for myself.”
As if he couldn’t stand to be still another second, Chay stood and made for the door.
“Come on in and have a drink,” he told Dakota. “Tell me what’s been happening in your world. That’ll take my mind off my own troubles for a while.”
When the two men were seated inside the tiny one-room cabin, cups of cool spring water cradled between their hands, Chay whistled low and long once Dakota recounted the past few weeks.
“You got married? And quick, too. Do you love her?”
“Not just no, but hell no,” Dakota shot back. “Absolutely not. She’s helping me. And I’m helping her. And that’s all there is to it.”
But even as he spoke the words, he had to wonder if he might be lying through his teeth. Before he could think about it too closely, he told his cousin a bit about Lyssa’s situation. Again, Chay whistled.
“And you think someone like this Gaines,” Chay said, “who’s used to having things his own way, is going to give up on a beautiful woman who just happens to be carrying his child?”
Dakota set down his empty cup and scrubbed at his face. “I don’t know.” He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees. “But I intend to help Lyssa get out of this. She deserves a fresh start. I don’t care what lengths I have to go to see that she gets it.”
His cousin’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “And you’re still going to hold on to the notion that this woman means nothing to you?”
“I never said that.” Dakota heard the flint sharpness in his tone. “She means something.”
She means a lot, a silent voice boldly inserted. Maybe too much.
Shoving the thought—and the sudden confusion that walloped him—right out of his mind, he continued, “She’s done a lot for me, Chay. She’s helped me to come to terms with… some things I’ve been grappling with. She’s made it possible for me to get my head straight about the past.”
His cousin remained silent, and Dakota got the distinct impression that the man he’d grown up with wasn’t so sure he agreed that Dakota’s head was straight about Lyssa and his feelings for her. Unfortunately, there was a light in his cousin’s eye that suggested he just might push the matter. Before he could, Dakota rose from the chair.
“Listen, I need to get back.” His chuckle was forced. “I have a medical practice to run. Patients to see.”
Chay got up. “Thanks for the supplies.”
The men hugged, and then Dakota leveled his gaze on his cousin. “Come down to the rez, Chay. Grandfather would love to see you.”
“I will,” Chay said. “As soon as I’m ready.”
Dakota only nodded.
He paused on the porch and looked out at the trees and the lake. The serenity of the fall day was so at odds with the chaos Chay had stirred inside him with his questions regarding Lyssa and what she meant to him. He went down the steps and headed for the path that would take him back to the rez.
Back to Lyssa.
The thought came like a bolt of lightning from the sky and jolted his emotions into a total muddle. Thankful for the long trek home, he knew he had a lot of thinking to do.
Chapter Nine
Lyssa was sure she’d never laughed so much in her life. Even now her cheek muscles ached, but it was a good kind of pain.
Not one, but two patients had canceled their appointments late that afternoon, so Dakota had decided to close the office early. Then he’d done the most extraordinary thing. He’d asked her to go out to Misty Lake with him. And her acceptance of the invitation had been lightning quick.
The treetops were painted in the vibrant colors of fall: crimson and gold, bronze and amber. There was a chill in the air that forced them to bundle up in thick sweaters and gloves, but the sun was radiant, its beams warming and bright in the crystal-blue sky.
She’d never seen Dakota so carefree. Letting go of the anger he’d felt toward his mother had transformed him. Like a caterpillar metamorphosing into a dazzling butterfly, he’d gone from being sedate and serious to acting downright silly at times. Lyssa loved the change she saw in him.
Oh, he was still earnest when it came to his work. Treating his patients, helping to make them well, was his life’s calling, that much was plain. But it was nice seeing him smile so easily, seeing him ready to have a little fun.
“So,” he said, his tone full of mischief, “have you ever taken a swim in October?”
He leaned from one side to the other, rocking the small rowboat they’d taken out onto the glassy surface of the lake.
“Dakota!” Her squeal was both panicky and delighted as she grasped the sides of the boat and held on tightly. “Stop that right now.”
The boat continued to undulate even after he halted his jerky motion. When his laughter faded, he dipped his chin, his eyes twinkling with merriment and some other emotion, some deeply powerful yet unnameable feeling that coursed throughout her.
“I haven’t had this much fun in…” He cocked his head, silently calculating. Finally, he gave a tiny shrug. “I can’t remember how long it’s been.”
The oars thumped the sides of the boat as he secured them in place. Then he clasped his hands together with a sigh. “I feel good,” he told her. “Really good.”
Lyssa’s heart soared, marveling that she’d thought the very same thing only an instant before. “I’m glad.”
His green eyes were on her again. “I have you to thank, you know.”
Her smile widened. “You’ve already thanked me.”
There was nothing awkward in the silence that fell between them.
That was another thing Lyssa had noticed. The discomfort that, in the not-too-distant past, had their eyes averting, that had them avoiding one another, had seemed to dissipate like clouds blown beyond the horizon by a stiff wind.
Oh, the awareness was still there. That amazing attraction. Oh, boy, was it ever still there! Her heart thudded and her blood heated every time he got anywhere near her. But being with him was easier now. Being with Dakota was comfortable. She noticed more and more that she felt happy. That, too, was nice.
Sensing his eyes on her again, she smiled.
“You look radiant.”
His voice was soft and rich, and Lyssa felt pleasure shudder along her spine. She was about to thank him for the compliment, but before she
could, he continued.
“People say that all pregnant women just glow,” he said. “But don’t you believe it. I’ve seen more than my share of females who are expecting. The majority of them look pasty and bloated.”
She didn’t know if he was being blatantly honest, or if he was simply attempting to make her feel good about the condition of her body.
“I’m surprised at you,” she chastised, unable to hold back her chuckle. “You shouldn’t talk like that about your pregnant patients. What would they think? Besides, you just give me time. I’m swelling up more every day. Soon my ankles will be as big around as my calves.”
“Never!”
Dakota reached down, scooped up her foot by the heel, and placed it on his knee. Lyssa’s eyes went round with surprise. He slipped off her shoe and she immediately felt the warmth of his palm smooth over the bridge of her stockinged foot.
“Not as long as I’m your doctor,” he proclaimed.
His thumbs massaged her arch, and it felt so delicious that she closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the decadent treatment.
“That’s nice,” she murmured. “Mmm. So nice.”
Nice was a word that floated around in her head a lot these days.
As Dakota rubbed her foot, Lyssa let her body relax, and listened to the birds chirping, the sound of the water lapping against the sides of the boat.
Nice.
She wouldn’t mind it at all if life continued along like this indefinitely. No, she sure wouldn’t mind.
“Do you ever think about it?” he asked.
Raising her eyelids, Lyssa looked into his handsome face.
“What having a baby will be like, I mean,” he clarified. “How a child will change your life.”
“I think about it all the time. In fact, the thought is never far from my mind.”
Dakota said, “I’ve read that we learn parenting skills from our own mothers and fathers. I remember my parents. Vaguely. I’ll be forever grateful for the depth of love they showered on me.” Quietly, he added, “Even though I didn’t even understand the magnitude of it at the time.”
