Healing Trace (30 page)

Savannah
nodded, and Joan's breath hitched in her chest. How many times had Trace
remained silent during all her questions, and merely nodded his head.
You're
going to be perfectly fine now, Savannah. I promise you.

With
Savannah clinging to her neck, Joan walked back to the waiting room. She
stopped in the middle of the room, but Trace still sat with his head in his
hands staring into nothing. Lost in his grief, he didn't hear her approach.

"Trace,"
she whispered. "There's someone here who would like to see you."

She
sat Savannah on her feet, and Trace slowly raised his head. Shock and
disbelieve covered his face. He opened his arms, and Savannah crawled up in his
lap. He sat silently, holding Savannah tight while gazing up at Joan with all
the love in the world shining in his eyes.

She
nodded her head, and let the tears fall silently. Sometimes words were
unnecessary.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The
little bit of food Trace managed to eat at lunch warred inside of him. He
inhaled another deep breath in an attempt to still his upset stomach. In the
last week, he and Joan had gotten married by the judge at the courthouse in
Durham, blessed by the chief of the Lakota, and filed adoption papers with the
elder council members in their attempt to bring Savannah home to Lakota Ranch.

He'd
barely been able to settle down into some sort of routine at the ranch again,
when Devon announced the final meeting with the elders was in two hours. Bile
burned his throat. So many hearts were on the line. Trace wasn't saying much,
but he suspected everyone knew his feelings about leaving Savannah at the
reservation.

Katie
talked nonstop about having a little sister, and a bond had been created
instantly when they met, despite the age gap. Joan reached out and smoothed
Katie's hair over her back, and he wanted to gather them both up in his arms
and keep them safe.

For
all the excitement and nerves floating around the room, he was glad they were
all together. He'd fallen apart, and without the wonderful support system on
the Lakota Ranch, including his wife and sister in law, he found the strength
to stand strong.

"Are
we done yet?" Trace stretched and laid his arm across Joan's shoulders.

"Not
quite." Devon passed another paper across the counter. "One more
paper to sign, and then we'll have everything documented."

"Do
you think we've done enough?" Trace scribbled his signature and passed the
sheet to Joan.

She
wrote her name. "What happens if the elders decide Savannah's better off
living on the reservation?"

"Then
she'll go to a family that has room for her. The Blacktails have already stated
that Savannah is welcome to stay with them until another family can take her
permanently. They have no plans to adopt Savannah, and it's only right…they are
getting older." Devon stood.

"Dumbasses,"
Katie mumbled. "Who could tell a child they weren't wanted?"

"Please
don't cuss once we get to the reservation." Joan handed the paper back to
Devon.

"You
okay, Trace?" Brody squeezed Trace's shoulder.

"Yeah."
He fiddled with the cuff of his shirt. "I just want today to be over."

"We're
all going to be there for you both." Devon picked up the car keys from the
middle of the table. "No matter what happens."

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 everyone 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.