” They stood there for another moment.

Then they walked back inside together.

Sarah was waiting by the door.

She looked at Asha’s face, looked at Jake.

If you hurt her, Sarah said quietly, I’ll kill you slowly.

I believe you, Jake said.

The next morning, before dawn, Kai slipped out of bed.

He lay there for a while, listening to the adults breathe.

Then he patted across the floor.

He’d been thinking about the journal, about the drawing of his father, about Jake’s face when Takakota told her story.

He pulled the journal out from its hiding place under his blanket, opened it, looked at the drawing again.

his father’s face, Jake’s hands, the blood.

Kai made a decision.

He walked over to where Jake was sitting in his chair.

The man’s eyes were closed, but Kai knew he wasn’t really asleep.

Jake never slept.

“Jake,” Kai said quietly.

Jake’s eyes opened.

He looked at the youth at the journal in his hands.

“I find this,” Kai said in careful English.

“Under bed, I see picture.

” He held up the journal and pointed to the drawing.

That my father, Kai continued.

You try save him.

Jake sat up slowly.

Yes.

Why you not tell me? Because I was ashamed.

Kai thought about that.

My mother say you forgive.

She say my father forgive too.

I don’t know if that’s true.

Kai sat down on the floor beside Jake’s chair.

He set the journal aside and looked up at Jake’s face.

I forgive too, he said.

Jake’s eyes went wet.

You try, Kai said.

That enough.

You come back.

You save me.

You good man.

I’m not.

Yes, you are.

Kai reached out and took Jake’s hand, held it, and for the first time in 16 years, Jake let himself cry.

When Asha woke up an hour later, she found them like that.

Jake in the chair, Kai sitting beside him, holding his hand, both of them peaceful.

She didn’t wake them.

She just stood there and watched.

And something inside her, something that had been frozen for a long time started to thaw.

The storm finally broke on the seventh day.

Jake stepped outside to find the world transformed.

The snow had stopped.

The sun was out.

The sky was so blue it hurt to look at.

He checked on Flint, broke the ice in the trough, and was splitting wood when he heard the sound of a wagon coming up the trail.

His hand went to the rifle, leaning against the cabin wall.

He waited.

The wagon came around the bend, a single horse pulling it, a woman on the seat.

Jake relaxed.

He knew that wagon.

Elena Cortez pulled up and climbed down.

She was a sturdy woman in her early 40s with dark hair going gray at the temples and sharp eyes that missed nothing.

She ran the general store in Prescott 20 m south.

Once a month she made deliveries to the ranches too far out for regular supply runs.

She’d been making deliveries to Jake for six years.

Morning Elena.

Jake said morning.

She started unloading crates from the wagon.

brought your flour, sugar, coffee, some salt, pork, and the mail, though there’s not much.

Appreciate it.

Elena paused.

She was looking past him at the cabin, at the smoke coming from the chimney, at the clothes hanging outside to dry.

Women’s clothes.

You got company, she said.

I do.

How many? Four.

Three women and a boy.

Elena’s eyebrows went up.

Apache.

Yes.

She sat down the crate she was holding.

Jake, do you know what you’re doing? Helping people.

You know that’s not how folks will see it.

I don’t care how folks see it.

Elena studied his face.

Then she sighed.

All right.

It’s your business, but I need to tell you something.

What? There’s a man in Prescott came in three days ago named Raymond Garrett.

Says he’s a bounty hunter.

He’s looking for three Apache women and a boy.

says they’re wanted for aiding enemies of the United States Army.

Jake’s jaw tightened.

That’s not true.

Maybe not, but he’s got papers or says he does.

And he’s asking questions, showing a drawing around.

Someone’s going to talk eventually.

How long do I have? A week.

Maybe less if the weather stays clear.

Jake nodded.

Thanks for the warning.

Elena looked at him for a long moment.

You care about them.

They needed help.

That’s not what I asked.

Jake didn’t answer.

Elena smiled sadly.

You always were too decent for your own good.

She climbed back onto the wagon, but before she left, she turned back.

Be careful, Jake, she said.

Men like Garrett don’t stop just because you asked nicely.

I know.

She drove away.

Jake carried the supplies inside.

Asha was at the stove making breakfast.

She looked up when he entered.

Who was that? Elena.

She runs the general store, makes deliveries.

Did she see us? She knows you’re here.

Asha’s face went tight.

Will she tell anyone? No.

Elena’s good people, but there’s something you need to know.

He told her about Garrett.

Asha sat down slowly.

Her hand went to her stomach.

He found us.

Not yet, but he will.

Then we need to leave.

Where will you go? I don’t know.

somewhere far from here.

Jake shook his head.

You’re 6 months pregnant.

It’s the middle of winter.

You won’t make it 50 m.

Then what do you suggest? Stay.

Let me handle this.

Sarah stepped forward.

Why would you do that? This isn’t your fight.

Yes, it is.

Why? Jake looked at Asha.

Because walking away now would be the same as leaving Maka behind.

I’m not making that mistake again.

That afternoon, while Kai was resting and Takakota was mending clothes, Jake sat with Asha and Sarah at the table.

“I need to know exactly what happened,” he said.

“Why is Garrett looking for you?” Asha glanced at Sarah.

Sarah nodded.

After Brennan, Asha began quietly.

I couldn’t stay at Fort Apache, so I went back to my people.

But they’d heard I was translating for the army.

They thought I was a spy, a traitor.

Were you? No, I translated meetings, that’s all.

I never gave them information they didn’t already know.

But someone used your translations.

Asha nodded.

There was a raid on a small Apache camp.

20 people killed, including children.

The army said they got the location from intelligence gathered at Fort Apache from my translations.

But you didn’t tell them where the camp was.

I didn’t even know where it was.

But my people didn’t believe me.

They wanted justice.

So they attacked a supply wagon, killed two soldiers.

And Garrett’s here because one of those soldiers was his brother, Sarah said.

Thomas Garrett, private, 22 years old.

Jake closed his eyes.

The army put out a warrant for the women who planned the attack.

Asha continued.

They think it was us.

It wasn’t.

We weren’t even there.

But someone told them we were.

Who? I don’t know.

Someone who wanted us dead.

Jake leaned back in his chair.

So Garrett’s not just looking for bounty money.

He’s looking for revenge.

Yes, that makes it worse.

I know.

They sat in silence for a while.

Then Jake stood up.

I need to go into town, he said.

Talk to the sheriff.

See if I can buy you some time.

That’s dangerous, Sarah said.

Everything’s dangerous now.

He saddled Flint and rode out before anyone could argue.

The ride to Prescott took 3 hours.

The town was small, one main street, a dozen buildings.

The sheriff’s office was at the far end next to the jail.

Jake tied Flint outside and walked in.

Sheriff Tom Hris was at his desk reading a newspaper.

He looked up when Jake entered.

Thornfield, he said.

Don’t see you much in winter.

Got business.

What kind? Heard there’s a bounty hunter in town.

Raymond Garrett.

Hendrick’s face went neutral.

What about him? He’s looking for some people who are staying with me.

Apache.

Yes, they wanted.

Garrett says they are.

I say they’re not.

Hendrick sat down the paper.

You got proof.

Just my word.

That’s not going to hold up if he’s got papers.

I know.

That’s why I’m here.

I need you to ask him to show those papers.

Verify they’re real.

And if they are, then I’ll deal with it.

But if they’re not, I want him arrested for harassment.

Hendrick studied Jake for a long moment.

You’re putting yourself in the middle of something ugly here.

I know.

Why? Because it’s the right thing to do.

Hrix sighed.

I’ll ask to see the papers, but that’s all I can do.

If they’re legitimate, I have to honor them.

Fair enough.

Jake turned to leave, but Hrix called him back.

Thornfield.

That woman translator Nash.

She’s one of them.

Jake hesitated, then nodded.

I heard what happened to her, Hrikus said at Fort Apache with Brennan.

It’s not on any official record, but word gets around.

Jake’s hands clenched.

I’m just saying, Hrix continued.

If you’re protecting her because of that, I understand.

But it won’t matter to Garrett, and it won’t matter to a judge.

I know.

Be careful.

Jake rode back to the ranch.

He was a mile from home when he saw the riders, three of them, sitting on their horses at the top of a ridge, silhouetted against the setting sun, watching his cabin.

Jake’s hand went to his rifle.

One of the riders saw him and turned.

Even from a distance, Jake could see the man’s face hard, weathered, angry.

Raymond Garrett.

Garrett nudged his horse forward.

His two men followed.

They rode down the ridge and stopped 50 ft from Jake.

Garrett was a big man, six feet tall, broad in the shoulders.

He had a thick beard and cold eyes.

A Colt revolver hung at his hip.

A Winchester rifle rested across his saddle.

“You, Thornfield,” he asked.

“I am.

” “I’m looking for three Apache women and a boy.

Heard they might be staying with you.

” “Who’d you hear that from?” Garrett smiled.

It wasn’t friendly.

“That’s not your concern.

If you’re on my land, it is.

I’ve got a warrant for their arrest.

I’m within my rights.

Show me the warrant.

Garrett’s smile faded.

I don’t answer to you.

You want to take someone off my property, you show me the papers.

That’s the law.

One of Garrett’s men, a skinny kid with a patchy beard, spoke up.

We don’t need to show you nothing.

Jake ignored him, kept his eyes on Garrett.

You knew my brother, Garrett said.

Thomas Garrett, Canyon Duchelli, 1866.

Jake’s blood went cold.

You were there, Garrett continued.

Scout Morrison, or Thornfield as you call yourself now.

I looked you up after I heard your name.

Found your service record.

Saw you were dishonorably discharged a month after Canyon Delli.

That’s ancient history.

Not to me.

My brother died because you people couldn’t finish what you started.

Left Apaches alive who came back and killed him 6 months later.

That’s not what happened.

Isn’t it? You had a chance to wipe them out, but you went soft.

Started protecting them instead of killing them.

Got yourself kicked out for insubordination, and my brother paid the price.

Jake’s voice went hard.

Your brother died because the army sent boys to fight a war they didn’t understand.

Don’t put that on me.

Garrett’s hand moved toward his gun.

You’re protecting them right now.

Aren’t you the same animals who killed Thomas? They’re not animals.

They’re people, and they didn’t kill anyone.

The warrant says different.

Then show me the warrant.

Garrett stared at him.

Then he reached into his coat and pulled out a folded paper, tossed it to Jake.

Jake caught it, unfolded it, read it.

It was a warrant, but it was vague.

Described three Apache women ages unknown wanted for conspiracy to commit murder against United States soldiers.

No names, no specific descriptions.

It could have been anyone.

This doesn’t prove anything, Jake said.

It proves I have legal authority to search for them.

Not on private land without a sheriff present.

Garrett’s jaw clenched.

You’re making a mistake.

Maybe, but it’s my mistake to make.

I’ll be back with the sheriff.

And when I am, you won’t be able to stop me.

We’ll see.

Garrett turned his horse.

His men followed.

But before they rode away, Garrett looked back.

We fought together once, he said, at Canyon Dechelli.

I remember you, Morrison.

You were a good soldier until you weren’t.

I don’t know what happened to you, but the man you used to be would understand what I’m doing.

The man I used to be is dead, Jake said.

And good riddens.

Garrett rode away.

Jake sat on Flint and watched them go.

His heart was pounding.

His hands were shaking.

He’d just made an enemy, a dangerous one.

But he’d meant every word.

When he got back to the cabin, Asha was waiting outside.

I saw them, she said.

Who were they? Garrett and his men.

What did he want? You.

Asha’s face went pale.

What did you tell him? To come back with the sheriff if he wants to search my property.

Jake, he’ll kill you.

Maybe, but he won’t touch you.

Not while I’m breathing.

Asha stared at him.

Why are you doing this? I already told you.

Tell me again.

Jake dismounted, stood in front of her.

Close enough that he could see the gold flex in her brown eyes.

Because for 16 years, I’ve been running from my mistakes.

He said, hiding out here, punishing myself, thinking if I stayed alone long enough, it would somehow make up for the people I failed.

He took a breath.

But it doesn’t work that way.

The only way to make up for the past is to do better in the present.

And right now, in this moment, the right thing to do is protect you.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

Asha’s eyes were wet.

You could die.

We all die eventually.

That’s not funny.

I’m not joking.

She reached out and took his hand.

Her fingers were warm despite the cold.

If you do this, she said, if you fight for us, it changes things between us.

You understand that? I know.

I can’t promise you anything.

I don’t know what I can give.

I’m still broken, still angry, still carrying this child I don’t want.

I’m not asking for promises.

Then what are you asking for? Jake looked at her hand in his.

Just a chance to do the right thing to be better than I was.

Asha squeezed his hand.

Then we fight, she said.

That evening, as the sun went down and the temperature dropped, Elena’s wagon appeared again on the trail.

Jake walked out to meet her.

Back so soon? He asked.

Elena climbed down.

Her face was serious.

I went to the sheriff after I left here, asked him about Garrett’s warrant, and it’s real or real enough.

Signed by a judge in Tucson, but it’s vague.

doesn’t name names, doesn’t give specific crimes, just says three Apache women wanted in connection with the deaths of two soldiers.

So, it’s garbage legally.

No, it gives Garrett authority to search, to question, to arrest if he thinks he’s found the right people.

” Jake swore under his breath.

“But Elena” continued, “Sheriff Hris is a good man.

He’s going to insist on being present when Garrett comes back.

He’ll make sure everything’s done by the book.

That’ll buy you some time.

How much a day? Maybe two.

That’s not enough.

I know, but it’s all I can give you.

She looked at him.

Really? Looked at him like she was trying to memorize his face.

I need to tell you something, she said.

Before this goes any further.

What? Elena took a breath.

I’ve loved you for 6 years, Jake.

Since the day I found you drunk in the mud behind the saloon, crying about Eliza and the baby.

I cleaned you up, brought you home, sat with you while you sobbed.

Jake opened his mouth.

Elena held up a hand.

Let me finish.

I loved you then.

I love you now.

I know you’ve never looked at me that way.

I know I’m not what you want, but I need you to know before whatever happens next.

Elena, I see how you look at her.

Elena continued, “That Apache woman, Asha, you look at her the way you used to look at Eliza, like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.

And I’m happy for you.

I am because you deserve to feel that again.

” Her voice broke.

But it hurts, she whispered, watching you risk everything for her, knowing you’d never do the same for me.

Jake stepped forward.

He took Elena’s hands.

“You’re right,” he said.

I never looked at you that way and I’m sorry.

You deserved better than that.

You deserved someone who could love you back, but you can’t.

No, I can’t.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.

You saved my life multiple times and I’ll never forget that.

Elena smiled through her tears.

I know.

That’s why I’m going to help you.

You don’t have to.

Yes, I do.

Because even if you don’t love me, you’re still the best man I know.

and she needs you.

So, I’m going to make sure you survive this.

” She squeezed his hands, then let go.

“When Garrett comes back,” she said, “I’ll be there.

I’ll testify that the women have been helping you, that they’re peaceful, that they’re not a threat.

It might not stop him, but it might slow him down.

” “Elena, if you do that, you could lose everything.

Your business, your reputation.

I know, but some things are more important than money.

” She climbed back onto the wagon.

“Be safe, Jake,” she said.

Then she drove away.

Jake stood there in the cold, watching her go.

Inside the cabin, Asha was at the window.

She’d seen everything.

When Jake came back inside, she didn’t say anything, just looked at him with dark knowing eyes.

“She loves you,” Asha said.

“I know.

” “And you don’t love her back.

” “No.

” “Why not? She’s good.

She’s kind.

she’d give you a peaceful life.

Jake walked over to where Asha stood, stopped close enough that he could smell the woods smoke in her hair because peace isn’t what I need, he said.

And she’s not who I want.

Asha’s breath caught.

I want someone who understands what it’s like to carry the weight of the past.

Jake continued, “Someone who’s been broken and put themselves back together with their own hands.

Someone who fights even when they’re terrified.

someone who reads Milton by fire light and makes a handful of beans feed five people and protects a child who isn’t even hers yet.

He reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“I want you,” he said simply.

Asha’s eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t know if I can give you what you want.

” “I’m not asking you to.

I’m just telling you the truth.

” She leaned forward, rested her forehead against his chest, and for the first time since they’d met, she let herself be held without fear.

Outside, the wind picked up.

Snow started to fall again.

And somewhere out there in the dark, Raymond Garrett was planning his return.

But for this one moment in this small cabin, two broken people found something worth fighting for.

Each other.

Three days passed.

Three days of preparation, Jake taught Asha and Sarah how to shoot.

Not well, but well enough.

He showed them how to load the rifle, how to brace it against their shoulders, how to breathe steady and squeeze the trigger instead of pulling.

Asha was a quick learner.

Her first shot went wide, but her second hit the tree she was aiming for.

By the end of the day, she could hit a target at 30 yards.

Sarah was better.

She had a hunter’s eye, steady hands.

She didn’t flinch when the gun kicked.

“You’ve done this before,” Jake said.

“My father taught me,” Sarah replied.

“Before the soldiers killed him.

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