For the first time, her eyes met his.
They were dark and steady.
There was no gratitude in them.
Nathan almost respected her for that.
The auctioneer called again.
“Fifty-five?”
A man near the saloon raised his hand.
“Sixty.”
Nathan knew he couldn't afford sixty.
He also knew he could not walk away.
“Sixty-five.”
The crowd murmured.
The other bidder looked annoyed.
“Seventy.”
Nathan swallowed.
That was more than he had.
He pulled out his small leather pouch.
Inside were the proceeds from the sale of his last good horse.
Every dollar.
He counted it.
“Seventy-five.”
The crowd went silent.
The auctioneer stared.
“You have that much?”
Nathan placed the money on the table.
“I do now.”
The other bidder laughed.
“You're a fool, Cole.”
Nathan looked at him.
“Probably.”
The hammer came down.
“Sold!”
The crowd applauded.
Nathan didn't.
The woman was led down from the platform.
The officer removed the chain from the post but kept the iron around her wrists.
Nathan looked at the officer.
“Take those off.”
“They're government property.”
Nathan pulled the auction receipt from his pocket.
“Then put the government property in the trash.”
The officer frowned.
“You paid for her.”
Nathan's expression hardened.
“No. I paid to get her out of your hands.”
The officer laughed.
“Same thing.”
Nathan looked at the woman.
“No,” he said quietly. “It isn't.”
He took a knife from his belt.
The officer reached for his revolver.
Nathan didn't move.
“I said take them off.”
After a long moment, the officer unlocked the cuffs.
The woman rubbed her wrists.
Nathan stepped away.
“You're free.”
She stared at him.
“You bought me.”
Nathan shook his head.
“I bought your freedom.”
She studied him for several seconds.
Then she spoke for the first time.
Her voice was low.
“My name is Iona.”
Nathan nodded.
“Nathan.”
“I know.”
He frowned.
“How?”
She looked toward the hills.
“People talk.”
Then she walked away.
Nathan watched her go.
He assumed that was the end of it.
He was wrong.
By sunset, half of Dry Creek would believe Nathan Cole had purchased an Apache woman as a wife.
By midnight, someone would try to kill him.
And before sunrise, Nathan would make a promise that would change both their lives.
The Woman Who Would Not Stay
Iona disappeared before Nathan reached his ranch.
He found her tracks near the river.
She had followed the water west.
Nathan stopped his horse.
He should have let her go.
Every sensible thought told him to turn around.
Instead, he dismounted and followed.
He found her two miles downstream beneath a cottonwood tree.
She was sitting with her back against the trunk, holding a small bundle wrapped in faded cloth.
Nathan kept his distance.
“You should keep moving,” he said.
Iona looked at him.
“Why did you follow me?”
“To tell you that.”
She almost smiled.
“You followed me to tell me to leave.”
“That's about right.”
“You are strange.”
“So I've been told.”
She looked at the bundle in her lap.
Nathan noticed her fingers trembling.
“You hurt?”
“No.”
“Hungry?”
“No.”
“You're lying.”
She looked annoyed.
Nathan reached into his saddlebag and tossed her a piece of bread.
She caught it.
“Eat.”
“I don't take orders.”
“Neither do I.”
She stared at him.
Then, reluctantly, she ate.
Nathan sat beneath another tree.
Neither spoke for several minutes.
Finally, Iona said, “Why did you pay?”
Nathan looked at the river.
“Because what they were doing was wrong.”
“You paid seventy-five dollars.”
“I know.”
“You could have bought a horse.”
“I needed one.”