Author's Note: Dear Readers, thank you for reading and for your feedback! Even when I'm slow to respond, I love hearing from you! Thank you also to my beta readers, katbybee and Piscean6724! You ladies rock!

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Chapter 2

Choctaw – English glossary

Anki - (My) dad, daddy

Chaffo - baby talk for hohchvffo - hungry

'Kokee - baby talk for Yakoke - thank you

Nusi - Sleep

Nashoba - Wolf (Johnny's Choctaw name)

Chi hullo li - I love you.

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September 18, 1985

Matt stared out the airplane window, watching as the plane lifted off. Next to him, Melissa was already dozing, her head on his shoulder. She'd been unusually tired lately. He hoped this trip would give her a chance to rest now that her summer classes were over. Thanks to her injuries early last year, she'd received a medical discharge from the Marines. And so, she had gone back to school in January, hoping to pursue a degree in special education. She wanted to help kids like her nephew Luke, who had autism. Matt just worried she was overdoing it. She had made an amazing recovery, but she still struggled with terrible headaches, and her doctors said her injuries had caused trauma-induced dyslexia. Reading was difficult for her, but she was determined, and he was ready to do whatever he could to help her succeed.

As he gazed through a break in the clouds to the earth below, he thought about his own plans. He had always loved being a paramedic, but Taffy's letter had hit the nail on the head. Matt was restless. His job once seemed to fit like a glove. Now… well… the glove was too tight. He felt like it was squeezing the life out of him. He'd been so excited to get back to it a couple months ago, but he felt ready to quit. But he needed something to move into. He'd entered the fire academy right out of high school and was certified as a paramedic before he turned twenty. Mom and Dad had told him he should have a fallback plan, but he'd brushed them off and never really thought about it.

The crate from Taffy had been rather bewildering to Matt at first. When he finally opened it, he'd found a stack of books. Theology… philosophy… biblical languages. Matt had just shaken his head at first and then pushed the crate away, swallowing his disappointment. He'd never been much of a reader, beyond what was necessary to get acceptable marks in school. But over the next few days, he'd found himself going back to the crate several times to page through a few of the books. One entitled Cost of Discipleship by some guy named Dietrich Bonhoeffer had sparked his curiosity. He wasn't exactly sure who Bonhoeffer was, but he'd packed the book in his carry-on so he would have it on this trip. He wouldn't risk waking Melissa by leaning over and fetching it out, though. He would have time to read later. He couldn't help wondering what Taffy had been thinking with such a gift. Did the man actually think Matt should become a pastor?

It's a crazy idea? Isn't it? Matt watched as the setting sun began to paint the tops of the clouds in pink and orange.

Or maybe not so crazy, Taffy's voice countered in his mind. You said yourself, my line of work wasn't so different from yours. Admit it, boyo… the idea intrigues you.

"All right, all right," he muttered. "It intrigues me."

"Hmm?" Melissa shifted slightly.

He patted her leg. "Nothing, honey. Sorry. Go back to sleep." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

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Johnny bounced JoJo on his knee as she babbled non-stop. He was glad they were on an early evening flight — other passengers were less likely to resent a noisy toddler than they would be on the red eye. Little JoJo had an endless supply of energy and seemed to thrive on running her parents ragged. Thankfully, her brother, currently sitting on Nita's lap and gazing out the window, was more mellow. Jamie liked to observe. Nothing escaped his dark, watchful eyes. Sometimes Johnny worried about him. At twenty months, JoJo was already talking up a storm in both English and Choctaw, and she was running around, getting into everything. Jamie wasn't walking yet — instead, he scooted around the house on his rear end — and he only had a few recognizable words. Nita said not to worry so much, that Billy had been the same way and he did just fine, but Johnny couldn't help it.

JoJo fussed and patted Johnny's chin. "Anki! Anki! 'Chaffo!"

He kissed her forehead, then reached carefully for the diaper bag at his feet and rummaged through it one handed until he found the bag of graham crackers Nita had packed for the kids. When he handed his daughter a cracker, she grabbed it out of his hand. "'Kokee!" she said, then shoved the cracker into her mouth. He grinned.

Three minutes later, she was asleep, her head pressed against his chest, the half-eaten graham cracker dangling from her fingers. She was almost always like that — full of energy until the moment she crashed. He hoped she would sleep the rest of the way to Seattle. He could use a little nap himself. He leaned over, taking care not to disturb the sleeping baby, and whispered to Nita. "You two OK if I doze off for a while?"

She nodded. "Nusi, Nashoba. Chi hullo li."

He kissed her on the forehead, then reclined his seat just slightly and quickly fell asleep.

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By the time the shuttle bus deposited the travelers at their hotel in downtown Seattle, Roy was exhausted and achy. He was ready to shed his prosthetic leg and relax in the hotel room's jacuzzi tub with a glass of wine. Thankfully, the lobby was almost empty. At the far end of the large reception area was a cluster of sofas and chairs beside a fireplace. After the ladies were settled comfortably there with the luggage and the children, the men headed for the registration desk. Halfway there, Roy felt DJ's hand slide into his. "Hey, Little Bear." He gave the small hand an affectionate squeeze.

Roy caught the wrinkle of the clerk's nose as the man noticed DJ, and his heart clenched. Maybe I'm just imagining things, he thought. But he was pretty sure that wasn't so. Too many people judged DJ and others like him at first glance, without getting to know them. Blood boiling, he bent down to his youngest son and said, "Hey, Buddy… why don't you go sit with Mama and Aunt Nita? I'll watch you all the way over there."

"OK, Daddy." DJ gave him a hug, then patted him on the back before he trotted over to JoAnne and settled on the sofa next to her. When Roy turned back to the desk, the person ahead of him had just finished up and was walking away from the desk. Roy moved forward.

"Must be rough." The clerk's gaze followed DJ, but then landed on Nita and the twins. His expression twisted from pity to disgust. "This used to be a classy place," he muttered, "till management started letting just anybody in."

Roy was seething now. "You know what's really rough?" he snapped. "Dealing with ignorant bastards like you." He was glad JoAnne was too far away to hear him — she'd give him hell for his choice of words. "I'm Roy DeSoto. I had a reservation here tonight, but I'm canceling. Under the circumstances, I expect you won't charge a cancelation fee."

"Oh, our policy is very clear, sir. You have to cancel forty-eight hours in advance to avoid being char —"

Roy leaned over the desk, his eyes fastening on the man's name tag. J. Gerard. Roy wanted to grab the guy by the collar and give him a good shake, but he crammed his fists into his jacket pockets instead. "Cancel it now, Mr. Gerard. Without the fee. Otherwise, I'll be happy to alert the media immediately to your discriminatory behavior."

Gerard sneered. "You won't find another room anywhere in the downtown area this weekend. Everything's booked sol —"

"Mister, we'd rather sleep in a cardboard box in the park than anywhere that employs the likes of you." Johnny had moved up next to Roy, who looked over to see a carefully controlled fury etched in his best friend's features. "Is there something wrong with my family?" he asked icily. "I mean, you were just looking at my wife and kids as if they weren't even human. Now, I won't speak for myself, but I guarantee you, my wife is a hell of a lot classier than you are. And you could stand to learn something from my nephew over there." He nodded toward DJ. "Here you are, putting him down without knowing anything about him. Well, let me tell you this… if he thought you were hurt, that little guy would be the first person to try to comfort you. He doesn't care what you look like or what your IQ is. Believe me, when it comes to compassion, he's got you beat. My name's John Gage. You can cancel my reservation too. Without the fee."

Matt moved up next to them. "Matthew Carter. I'm canceling too."

Gerard fussed and fumed, but he produced the necessary paperwork. The men signed, then headed back toward the ladies, quietly agreeing before they reached the cluster of chairs and sofas that they would not mention what had taken place… not tonight, anyway. "Hey," Roy said to Jo. "We've gotta find someplace else."

She shifted DJ on her lap — the boy had finally crashed and was sound asleep with his head on her shoulder. "Oh Roy, honey, what happened?" He could hear the exhaustion in her voice.

Roy took a deep breath. He didn't want Jo to see how angry he still was. He would tell her the truth later, but not now. "Reservation fell through, that's all."

She frowned and her eyes narrowed. "Well, that's simply unaccep —"

"Jo." Roy rarely hardened his tone with his wife. He regretted it as soon as that clipped syllable slipped out of his mouth and she glared back at him. If it weren't for their son, he knew she'd be doing more than glare. As he reached for their suitcase, he took a deep breath, then continued more gently. "I'm sorry, honey. That's just the way it is. Nothing to be done. We'll find something else." Then he gave her that pointed look that he knew would tell her without words that there was a story he just couldn't tell her yet.

"Fine," she said. She looked around, then down at DJ. At eight years old, the little guy had gotten hard to carry, but trying to wake him up right now would be a bad idea. Roy's stump ached, but he wasn't about to ask Jo to carry him. Before he could set the suitcase down again and take his son instead, Johnny stopped him.

"Let me," he said, pushing their wheeled suitcase toward JoAnne. "You take this. You can fasten your duffel on the handle, and DJ's backpack can go in the basket under the stroller."

On their way to the door, the grey-haired concierge stopped Roy. "Sir, my daughter works at a nice little hotel just a few blocks away. It isn't fancy, but it's clean and safe and the people are real good there." His nose wrinkled as he glared at the clerk. "Not like him. Best breakfast in town, too. I just called and she says they have a few rooms available. Eddie will be glad to drive you over there before he makes his last run to the airport."

"Uh… yeah. Thanks." Roy felt a surge of gratitude. He hadn't been sure what they would do this late at night if they couldn't find a room, but he wasn't going to go crawling back to Mr. Gerard with his tail between his legs.

"You're going to tell me everything once we get DJ to bed," Jo breathed in Roy's ear. He just nodded. He was pretty sure Johnny was getting the same demand from Nita.

Or maybe Johnny's wife had already guessed at the situation. She stood next to her husband, visibly trembling, her jaw set and her cheeks flushed. Johnny had pulled her into a one-armed hug. He whispered something in her ear and then Roy watched as Nita's tension slipped away. She smiled and swatted at her husband, then nodded to the concierge. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Ma'am." He gave Nita a nod, then turned toward the registration desk. "Hey Jim," he called, raising his voice. "I'm retiring. Effective immediately." He came out from behind the desk and took the handle of the suitcase from JoAnne. "I'll get that for you, Ma'am," he offered. "Eddie's parked right outside."

They followed him to the door, helped Eddie stow their luggage in the back of the shuttle, and then came around to talk with Roy, Johnny, and Matt while the ladies climbed in and got the kids situated. He shook their hands and introduced himself. "Charlie Donovan. I'm sure sorry about how Jim treated you. He's done it before, and management turns a blind eye. Buncha idiots. I told Eddie what happened and he's quitting too… turning in his keys as soon as he gets back from the airport."

Roy felt the sharp bite of guilt. "Oh, but you shouldn't —"

Charlie raised a hand. "Don't you worry about us, now. My wife has been trying to get me to jump ship for years, and Eddie… well, he'd never admit it to a customer, but he hates this job." He moved aside so they could climb into the van. "I'm real sorry your visit to Seattle had such a rough start. Hopefully, things will go better for you the rest of the week."

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Sarah Katherine DiAngelo, age nine, watched through the hotel room window as the shuttle from the fancy hotel a few blocks away stopped in the parking lot of Carolanne's Suite Dreams hotel. The driver got out and opened the side door, and the van disgorged its passengers. Sarah Katherine — or Sarah Kate, which was her preference — liked the word disgorge. It was one of the bonus words on the spelling and vocabulary list for this week, and she thought it was fun to say.

She counted the people while the driver pulled their luggage out of the back end of his van. Three ladies… two of them holding babies… and three men. And one of the men had a sleeping kid nestled up against his shoulder. That kid wasn't a baby or even a toddler because he had long legs that dangled down past the man's waist. Always intrigued by the thought of making a new friend, Sarah Kate perked up at the sight, though it also sent a pang of longing through her. One of the men who wasn't holding a kid pulled out his wallet, and she figured he was giving the driver a tip. But the driver didn't take it. He pushed it back and shook his head, then waved to the men and walked around to the other side of the van. A minute later, he waved goodbye and drove away. That he had refused the tip surprised her. Ramona, one of the housekeepers here at Suite Dreams, had told her those drivers didn't get paid much. Ramona knew because her husband Oscar, who had died last year, used to be a driver for one of those hotels. Sarah Kate knew a lot more about Oscar's accident from Gemma who worked at the front desk, but she also knew better than to talk about it to Ramona.

Math homework beckoned, but Sarah Kate kept watching out the window until the whole group had gone in through the lobby door. She thought for a moment about going to the lobby and getting herself a soda from the vending machine, but quickly realized it was a bad idea. Nine-year-old girls were supposed to be in bed asleep right now, not wandering around the hotel. Gemma had already complained that Sarah Kate's dad didn't keep a close enough eye on her — best not to make her ask questions. And so the girl finished up her homework, climbed into bed, then switched off the bedside light.

"Goodnight, Daddy," she whispered into the silence. Then she deepened her voice. "Good night, Sarah Kate, my love." With a wistful sigh, she rolled over and drifted off to sleep, already working out a plan to meet Carolanne's newest guests tomorrow after school.