Kathleen Eagle published her first book, a Romance Writers of America
Golden Heart Award winner, with Silhouette Books in 1984. Since then she
has published more than 40 books, including historical and
contemporary, series and single title, earning her nearly every award in
the industry. Her books have consistently appeared on regional and
national bestseller lists, including the USA Today list and the New York
Times extended bestseller list.
Helen Ketterling’s twelve year old son, Sidney, thinks his
father is dead. Helen has a hundred
reasons for keeping her child in the dark about his father, but they really all
boil down to one—she’s afraid of losing her son. This is the kind of secret that grows in in
the dark, and Helen knows it’s wrong to keep it locked up much longer. What if something were to happen to her?
Somewhere in Helen’s private papers, somewhere outside the
pages of What the Heart Knows, Helen must be keeping a letter for her son, just
Ever since you were old enough to understand, I’ve told you
stories. Your favorites at first were
animal stories. Then you liked stories
about kids doing funny things, and then it was super heroes who defeated super
villains, and lately it’s impossible beings and amazing athletes. You’ve never had trouble separating fact
from fiction, but I can’t say the same for myself. I told you that your father was dead. He’s not.
Your father is a combination of many of the characters in
those stories. We were only together for
a few months, but in that time I saw him spin the world on one finger while he
hung the moon with his other hand. And
when he left South Dakota
to become a star—no, more than a star, he’s the whole sky. Blue Sky.
You’ve seen him play basketball.
Yes, that Blue Sky. Reese Blue Sky is your father.
Anyway, when he left, we didn’t know about you. And when I discovered that you were growing
inside me, I left, too. I was
scared. I was confused. I was selfish and intimidated, and I knew
that if I kept you a secret, there would be no question that you belong to
me. So I’ve had no contact with Reese,
and he doesn’t know about you.
Your father is bigger than life. He is Lakota Sioux, and
there are laws that protect Lakota children from being taken from their
parents. I knew Reese to be good man,
but he was ambitious, and I don’t really know him now. What I need to tell you is that I lied to
you—he’s not dead—and if this news comes as a surprise to you as you read it,
then you would come as a surprise to him, too.
I’m writing this letter just in case. Right now you’re a little boy, and this is
not the time to tell you about your father.
The time will come. I know it
will. But not now. I’ll tell Reese myself when the time is
right, and then this letter will just be an old piece of paper I forgot to
I love you, Sidney. I am your devoted mother, no matter what.