He sat, took Naomi’s hand, came right out with it. “My grandfather is certain he knows who made that medicine wheel—Maggie Otter Tail.”
“I remember her,” Winona said. “She was old even when we were little.”
Chaska nodded. “She made the journey to the spirit world a long time ago.”
“Did she have any daughters?” Naomi asked.
“No. She had one son, but he’s gone now, too. He had two sons who are still alive. Maggie also had many nieces and great nieces through her two sisters. Old Man says she made these for the people she loved, the people in her family. He said you can tell it’s her work by the two black X marks on the back at the bottom.”
Naomi drew the leather cord over her head, turned the medicine wheel over, and examined. “They’re right here.”
She handed it to Chaska, pointed. “I never noticed them before.”
To be fair, they were tiny and disappeared into the overall pattern—until you knew what you were trying to find.
“He and Tina are going to talk with Maggie’s grandsons tomorrow to see what they have to say, whether they know who this one might have belonged to.”
“You know what this means?” Win looked like she was about to explode from excitement.
“It means I’ve come a step closer to knowing the name of the woman who gave birth to me and then left me in that alley to die.” Naomi lifted the leather thong over her head, let the medicine wheel drop back inside her shirt.
“It also means that you’re probably Oglala Lakota just like us. Wouldn’t it be fun to find out we’re long-lost cousins?”
Chaska glared at his sister, who seemed to realize what she was saying.
She grimaced. “No, that wouldn’t be good at all.”
“Why not?” Naomi asked.
Winona busied herself with clearing the table, leaving Chaska to answer. “Well, because you and I have… uh….”
Naomi’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Do you think there’s any chance—”
“No. Maggie Otter Tail wasn’t related to anyone in our family.” Now came the hard part. “Grandfather wants me to send a photo of you to Tina’s phone. I told him—”
“A photo of me? Why?” Confusion and anger flashed in her eyes. “I don’t want a photo of me going to the woman who abandoned me.”
“I told him you wouldn’t be comfortable with that. He says it might help him find your mother, but I think he just wants to see you for himself. He knows that you mean a lot to me.”
“You told him?” This seemed to surprise her, but in a good way.
“Of course, I told him. He’s important to me—and so are you.”
This seemed to spur Naomi into action. “Well, if you have to send a photo to your grandfather, I can’t look like this. Win, you have to help me.”
What was she talking about?
“You look fine.” Chaska raised his cell phone to snap a photo.
Naomi blocked him with her hands. “Please, not yet.”
She stood and made her way upstairs with Winona beside her. “I need to do something with my hair and my face.”
Chaska shouted after them. “He wants a photo of you, not makeup!”
Twenty minutes later, Naomi sat on the sofa in different clothes, her hair brushed to a shine and pulled into a barrette, mascara on her lashes, gloss on her lips. She looked lovely—and nervous as hell. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re beautiful.” Chaska held up his cell phone, saw the tension on her face. “Don’t look at the camera. Look at me.”