She turned and left.
Elias watched her disappear through the doorway.
"Who is she?"
The chief's expression hardened.
"My daughter."
Elias nodded.
"I didn't mean—"
"You will marry her."
The words landed so abruptly that Elias actually laughed.
Then he realized the chief was serious.
The laughter died.
"I'm sorry?"
"You heard me."
Elias looked toward the doorway.
"The woman with the veil?"
"My daughter."
"And you want me to marry her?"
"Tonight."
Elias stared.
"No."
The chief leaned forward.
"You have not seen her face."
"I don't need to."
"Then why refuse?"
"Because marriage isn't a trade."
The chief's eyes narrowed.
"Everything is a trade when men are desperate."
Elias stood.
"I'll sleep outside."
The chief lifted one hand.
The scarred warrior immediately raised his rifle.
Elias stopped.
The chief spoke calmly.
"You may leave."
Elias glanced toward the storm outside.
"But?"
"But you will not leave alive."
Silence filled the room.
"You mean to kill me?"
"If you refuse my daughter."
Elias looked at the old chief for several seconds.
Then he laughed bitterly.
"You're serious."
"Completely."
Elias looked toward the doorway again.
The veiled woman was gone.
He had no idea who she was.
He had no idea why the chief wanted this.
He only knew that the storm had trapped him, twenty armed warriors surrounded him, and a rifle was pointed toward his chest.
He could fight.
He could die.
Or he could accept.
Elias slowly exhaled.
"Fine."
The chief raised an eyebrow.
"I'll marry her."
The scarred warrior lowered his rifle.
The chief nodded.
"Good."
Elias rubbed his face.
"But I'm not marrying someone who doesn't choose me."
The chief stared at him.
Then, unexpectedly, a faint smile touched his lips.
"You may discover, cowboy, that my daughter chooses very carefully."
Elias didn't understand what he meant.
Not yet.
He would.
Before midnight.
And when her veil finally fell, Elias Boone would forget how to breathe.
The Veiled Woman
The wedding preparations began before sunset.
Elias had expected something simple.
Instead, the camp transformed.
Women brought blankets embroidered with colored thread. Men prepared food over several fires. Children ran between the shelters, whispering and laughing.
Elias sat beside Duke and watched.
He still couldn't believe what had happened.
He had entered the valley looking for shelter.
Now he was apparently getting married.
Duke lowered his head and nuzzled Elias's shoulder.
"You think this is funny?"
The horse snorted.
"You're no help."
Elias looked toward the largest tent.
The woman had not appeared again.
He kept thinking about her eyes.
Green.
There was something familiar about them.
But he couldn't place it.
An older woman approached him.
She carried a folded shirt.
"Chief says wear this."
Elias accepted it.
"Thank you."
She smiled.
"You are frightened."
"I'm cautious."
"Same thing for men."
She walked away.
Elias changed clothes.
When he returned to the center of the camp, the chief was waiting.
"Before this marriage," Elias said, "I want to speak to your daughter."
The chief nodded.
"That is wise."
The veiled woman emerged.
She walked slowly toward him.
Up close, Elias noticed the details he had missed earlier.
Her hands were scarred.
Not from fighting.
From work.
Her posture was straight.
Confident.
She stopped several feet away.
"You wanted to speak to me?"
Her voice surprised him.
Soft.
Clear.
Educated.
"You speak English well."
"I was taught."
"What's your name?"
She hesitated.
"Isabela."
"Isabela what?"
"Isabela Nantan."
Elias nodded.
"Isabela."
She looked at him through the veil.
"My father says you agreed."
"I did."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
"Then why?"
Elias looked toward the surrounding camp.
"Because your father gave me two choices."
"Death or marriage."
"Basically."
She lowered her head.
"I am sorry."
"Are you?"
She looked up.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I know what it means to marry a stranger."
Elias was quiet.
Then he asked, "Do you want to marry me?"
Isabela said nothing.
A breeze moved through the camp.
Finally she answered.
"I don't know you."
"Neither do I."
"Then why should either of us say yes?"
"Because sometimes life doesn't ask permission."
She considered that.
"You have been hurt."
Elias stiffened.
"How do you know?"
"Your eyes."
He almost smiled.
"That's a dangerous answer."
"I have learned to recognize men who carry ghosts."
Elias looked away.
"Maybe you shouldn't marry one."
"I did not say I would."
He looked back.
She was still watching him.
There was no fear in her expression.
That surprised him.
Most people who were forced into difficult situations either fought or surrendered.
Isabela did neither.
She observed.
Measured.
Decided.
"What happens if I refuse?" Elias asked.
"You die."
"That's what your father says."
"My father does not make empty threats."
Elias nodded.
"I believe him."
She stepped closer.
"I will tell you something."
"What?"
"If we marry, I will not belong to you."
Elias's eyebrows rose.
"I wouldn't expect you to."
"I will not obey you because you are my husband."
"Good."
"I will not leave my people."
"I wouldn't ask you to."
"And I will never pretend to love you."
Elias looked at her.
"Fair enough."
She seemed surprised.
"Most men would object."
"I'm not most men."
"No."
Her voice softened.
"You are not."
Then she walked away.
Elias watched her.
Something about that conversation had unsettled him.