“You are finally home,” he said in a low rumble soaked to the brim in awe. “The missing piece of my heart.”
My lips trembled as he cupped my face and wiped my tears with his thumbs, which fell in rivers over his hands. His dark gaze took in every feature as though he was memorizing it. His lips twitched as he lifted his hand and hovered it over my hair in a rather delicate caress for a man so intimidating.
“Fire,” he whispered, gesturing to my hair. “Ice.” He traced the pale skin of my cheek with a single finger. “Isabeau, the Creator’s gift.”
My grandfather thought I was a true gift from God. I choked back a sob and held my breath, not wanting to break this moment or forget a second of it.
“I will give many prayers of thanks for the gift of you. My grandchild is home. This makes me complete. We will celebrate.”
He pulled me against his chest, and I locked my arms around him. Finally, I couldn’t hold back the sobs tearing through my body, needing to make their way out. I lost it. I let it all go and gave it to my grandfather. The fear, the hurt, the sorrow of not having had this all these years, on top of breathing in the treasure that this moment was. All of it. Regardless of how it came to pass, Toko, Evie, Suda Kaye, Camden, Milo, they were all such a blessing. A gift from Catori to me.
“What does Kasaraibo mean?” I choked out between the body-jarring emotions spilling out all over the desert floor and at this man’s feet.
I felt him kiss the crown of my head. “Kasaraibo is Comanche for angel. As my Catori believed you were a gift from the Creator, meant to bring joy, love and understanding to the world.”
My mother and grandfather not only thought I was a gift, they also believed I was an angel. I cried harder.
Tahsuda opened his arms wide once more and suddenly, I felt two bodies squish up against me. “My Huutsuu, Taabe and Kasaraibo in my arms. I am happy. It is a good day.”
I grinned and lifted my head to see my sisters smiling wide, but their eyes were closed as they pressed close to our grandfather and me.
“We have much to celebrate,” he whispered over our heads. I felt his grip get tighter. “My girls are home.”
I had never felt more at peace than I did in that moment, cuddled to the man who ultimately created the woman who gave each of us life. And while we stood there in Toko’s arms, the sun shining at our backs, a breeze flowed over us, smelling of bergamot, patchouli and the earth.
* * *
Jasper wiggled his booty to the music playing inside as he brought out a bottle of insanely delicious wine. Apparently, it was Toko’s favorite and made by Native Americans. I learned today while cooking side by side with my grandfather that he was very proud of his heritage. Our people were born to this land far before the Europeans came across the pond, and everything Toko did was in support of Native Americans. Right down to the wine he enjoyed.
“Here you go, Grandpa.” Jasper bobbed his head while holding out the glass of wine. He’d taken to calling Toko Grandpa. I asked him why he didn’t call him Toko as it didn’t seem to bother him when Camden called him the same. Milo, however, addressed him as Elder Tahsuda. Jasper said he felt like it was mine to have with my sisters.
Toko pressed his lips together but the right side lifted with a hint of what I’ve come to see was his way of showing amusement. “Ura,” he said in Comanche. “Thank you,” he repeated in English.
Jasper handed my glass to me.
“Ura.” I glanced at Toko to ensure I enunciated it correctly and he nodded, his chest lifting a bit.
“Teach me something beautiful in Comanche,” I requested and sipped more wine.
Toko set his wine down and picked up the piece of wood sitting in a basket with a bunch of metal hand tools. Currently, the piece was formed into the shape of an owl sitting down, its wings at rest. Though it didn’t have a face yet.
Jasper clapped and leaned against the banister surrounding the cozy porch.
Toko pointed at Jasper. “E-haitsma,” he said.
“E-haitsma,” I repeated.
“Very good, Kasaraibo. You speak excellent Comanche.”
I grinned wide and sat up straight, pride licking at my spine. “What does e-haitsma mean?”
Jasper put his hand on his hip and struck a semiserious fashionable pose. “It means your best friend is fabulous. Isn’t it obvious? He’s. Hot. Ma.” He twisted the word into exactly what worked best for him. “You got some great taste, Grandpa.” He lifted his wineglass in salute. “I am pretty hot.”
Surprisingly, Toko tipped his head back and laughed full and deep; the sound rumbled straight through my body and out the soles of my feet.
“My new grandson of the heart is funny,” he murmured, and both Jasper and I lit up like a Macy’s parade on Thanksgiving.
Me because he liked my best friend and Jasper because he wanted everyone to like him.
“The word means good friend,” Toko answered.
“Well, I am that. Anyhoo, I’m going to let you two catch up and see if I can wrangle Milo and Camden into taking off their shirts and arm wrestling.” He waggled his eyebrows dramatically.
“You’d have better luck getting Suda Kaye to make the request,” I hollered as he opened the door. Suda Kaye would be all over that plan. Always interested in a new experience.
“Oh, good idea! Have fun!” he tossed out before letting the screen door slam.
Toko and I both winced at the noise.
“Sorry, he’s got more energy than common sense,” I mumbled.
Toko hummed then reached into his basket of goodies and pulled out a small piece of wood and handed it to me. Then he grabbed a whittling tool and handed that to me, too.
I took them both into my hands and watched him maneuver the tool into the wood and tried to copy his movements.
“Tell me of the sadness in your eyes?” he asked while his gaze was on the owl and the indention he was carving.
I twisted my lips and sighed. “I’m not sad, exactly.”
“Hurt?” He hit the nail right on the head.
I shrugged. “I wish I could have met you sooner,” I whispered, letting the wind take the admission with it.
“Ah, you speak of Catori’s choices.” His words held no judgment, just facts.
Mentioning my mother’s name sent a bolt of guilt to sear my insides and squeeze my heart until I had to suck in a big breath and let it out slowly.
“You have her letters?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, but it’s not the same as having her.”