THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTER HAD A SECRET THE COWBOY NEVER EXPECTED

 The Price of Crossing the River

The first thing Caleb Mercer saw was the fire.

It burned on the far side of the river, a small orange glow trembling against the darkness.

The second thing he saw was the bodies.

Three horses lay beside the trail.

A broken wagon rested against a cottonwood tree.

Caleb pulled his reins tight.

His horse, Ranger, stopped immediately.

Caleb's hand moved toward his revolver.

He had spent fifteen years learning that a quiet trail was sometimes more dangerous than a noisy one.

He studied the darkness.

Nothing moved.

No birds.

No insects.

Not even wind.

Then a voice came from behind him.

"Don't reach for it."

Caleb slowly turned.

Four riders stood on the ridge.

Their rifles were aimed directly at him.

Caleb raised his hands.

"I wasn't reaching."

The tallest rider lowered his rifle slightly.

"You were."

Caleb sighed.

"Then I was thinking about reaching."

Nobody laughed.

The riders approached.

Their leader was an Apache warrior with a silver braid and a scar across his forehead.

"You crossed the river."

Caleb nodded.

"Didn't know it belonged to anyone."

"It doesn't."

"Then what's the problem?"

The warrior pointed toward the burning wagon.

"You came from the north."

Caleb looked at the bodies.

"I did."

"Did you see them?"

"No."

"Did you kill them?"

"No."

The warrior stared at him.

Caleb stared back.

Finally the man said:

"Come with us."

"I'd rather not."

The rifles lifted.

Caleb looked at them.

"Fine."

They took him through the trees.

After half an hour, they reached a hidden valley.

Dozens of people lived there.

Women gathered around fires.

Children carried buckets.

Warriors stood along the perimeter.

At the center was a large lodge.

Caleb was taken inside.

An old chief sat near the fire.

He was broad-shouldered despite his age.

His hair was almost completely white.

His eyes were sharp.

"You are Caleb Mercer."

Caleb frowned.

"You know me?"

"I know your father."

Caleb's expression changed.

"My father died eleven years ago."

"I know."

"How?"

The chief leaned forward.

"Because I was there."

Caleb's hand tightened.

"You knew him?"

"Your father saved my life."

Caleb had never heard that story.

His father had never mentioned the Apache chief.

"What is your name?"

"Running Wolf."

Caleb nodded.

"What do you want from me?"

Running Wolf pointed toward the entrance.

"Your brother."

Caleb went still.

"My brother?"

"Daniel Mercer."

"Daniel disappeared six months ago."

"He did not disappear."

Caleb stared.

"He was taken."

"By whom?"

"Men who want this valley."

Caleb looked around.

"Why?"

"There is silver beneath the mountains."

Caleb understood.

Men had killed for less.

Running Wolf continued.

"Your brother learned the truth."

"Where is he?"

"Dead."

Caleb lowered his head.

The news hit harder than he expected.

He and Daniel had fought constantly as boys.

But blood was blood.

"Who killed him?"

Running Wolf's expression hardened.

"Samuel Vane."

Caleb knew the name.

Everyone did.

Samuel Vane owned three ranches, two mining companies, and enough hired guns to start a war.

"Why tell me?"

"Because Vane believes you have something he needs."

"What?"

"The location of this valley."

Caleb looked toward the doorway.

"Then why haven't I told him?"

Running Wolf smiled faintly.

"Because you have not been given the chance."

Caleb frowned.

The chief stood.

"My daughter."

A woman entered.

She wore a dark red dress and a black veil that covered her entire face.

She stopped beside her father.

Caleb stared.

Running Wolf spoke calmly.

"You will marry her."

Caleb almost laughed.