He wrapped his arms around her. “I read it. It’s a powerful letter.”
“I don’t have time for it now. I just can’t … not now, not with customers in the store, not till I’m home. Can you keep it safe for me?”
“Of course.”
She walked back inside, smiled to Win, who looked worried. “I’m so hungry. Where are those tacos?”
Chaska saton the sofa beside Naomi while she read through the letter that her biological mother had left for her today, unable to imagine how this must feel. The woman had abandoned her, had nearly killed her, and hadn’t reached out—until now.
And yet Chaska couldn’t help but feel for Kristi. She’d been a child in a terrible situation with no support, no one to help her. She hadn’t been able to see any way out, so she’d made the problem go away by abandoning Naomi.
He couldn’t excuse what she’d done, but now he could understand it.
Naomi finished the letter, tears streaming down her face.
Chaska drew her into his arms, held her while she sobbed, wishing he knew what to say to her. Hell, he didn’t even know what she was feeling.
Win sat down on the other side of her, rested her hand on Naomi’s back, offering silent support, a helpless expression on her face. She loved Naomi, too, and she was probably just as uncertain about what to say or do as Chaska.
Naomi drew back, picked up the letter again, tears on her cheeks. “I’ve spent so much of my life hating her, raging at her. Why did she leave me? Why did she dump me? Why did she think I was garbage?”
“Now you know.” Chaska handed Naomi a tissue. “She never thought you were garbage.”
“It’s not what I expected. That’s for sure.”
“What does the letter say?” Win asked. “Can I read it?”
Naomi picked it up again and read it aloud, her voice breaking, new tears streaming down her cheeks. “Dear, dear Naomi: Every day since your birth, I have thought about you. Every day, I have regretted what I did. There is no excuse so I won’t offer one, but I do owe you an explanation.
“I was sixteen when I met your father at summer camp. He was the sweetest, most handsome boy I’d ever known. I didn’t think about the consequences. I thought I was in love, and I just wanted to be with him.
“When I got home, my parents were furious to learn that I had a Lakota boyfriend. They refused to let me call him or even write him a letter. My mother took his phone number and threw it away. When he called, she told him to stay away from me. She even tried to take away the medicine wheel he’d given me. I hid it in my room.
“I think some part of me understood I was pregnant, but I just couldn’t face it. I did my best to hide my belly from everyone, especially my parents, who had once threatened to kick me out if I ever got pregnant.
“The night you were born was the longest and toughest and most terrifying night of my life. I was in so much pain and so afraid. I had no idea what to do, no knowledge about childbirth. I had you in the basement bathroom by myself, biting a towel so that I wouldn’t scream. There was so much blood.
“When you were out, I held you. You looked up at me and didn’t even cry. You were the most precious, most perfect thing I’d ever seen. But you looked like your father, and I knew my parents would punish me if they saw I’d been together with an Indian boy. I knew I had no choice but to give you up.
“So I wrapped you in a blanket I’d used for one of my dolls when I was little, tucked the medicine wheel inside it along with the afterbirth (I thought it would keep you warm), and snuck out of the house.
“I had no idea what to do with you. Back then there were no laws that enabled a mother to leave her newborn at a church or fire station without answering questions. I was sure that if I went to the fire station, my parents would find out. So, I put you near the back door of a grocery store because I thought a lot of people must go in and out and that they would find you quickly. Then I went home, cleaned the mess in the bathroom, and tried to hide my bleeding.
“When I heard on the news that a baby had been found, I knew it was you. The news reports said you’d been close to dying. I have never gotten over the guilt I feel for abandoning you rather than facing my parents, for putting you in danger, for making the first hours of your life so terrible. When I think of you, lying in that alley, crying, with no one around, I am crushed and hate myself.
“I worked hard to finish high school after that and went to college. I married a man and later divorced him. I’ve had no other children. My life has been focused on higher education. But there hasn’t been a day when I haven’t thought of you and hoped you were safe and happy.
“When I saw the news stories about the young Lakota woman who’d been reunited with her father and then heard the father’s name, I knew you’d found your way home, found your way to your people. I celebrated with you both in my heart, so happy that you were together.
“You should know that your father reached out to me after he found you. He located me, demanded answers, and then apologized for what I’d gone through by myself. He left it up to me how and when to reach out to you. He said he thought it would help you to know how you ended up in that alley. I hope this brings you some peace.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I am sorry to the depth of my soul for what I did. Love, Kristi Larson.”
When Naomi finished reading, Winona was in tears, too.
Chaska rolled onto his back, taking Naomi with him, his heart still pounding from an orgasm that had almost blown off his balls.
She snuggled against him. “You like it more this way, don’t you?”