THE STRANGER AYANA CHOSE
The Man Nobody Expected
The spring of 1873 softened the Arizona Territory for only a few precious weeks.
Wildflowers appeared between the red rocks. Cottonwoods brightened the canyon floors, and cool winds moved through valleys usually punished by dust and heat.
Hidden beyond one of those valleys stood an Apache village led by Chief Whitehawk.
That spring, an extraordinary gathering had drawn families from distant camps.
Whitehawk's only daughter, Ayana, was ready to choose the man she wished to marry.
The decision belonged to her.
No warrior could claim her because of reputation, family influence, or strength.
Ayana would choose for herself.
Word had spread through the surrounding country.
Soon more than one hundred people had gathered beneath the cottonwoods along the river.
Among them were warriors from distant camps, hunters known for their courage, young men whose names were spoken with admiration around evening fires, and older leaders who had come simply to witness the choosing of Whitehawk's daughter.
The young men had prepared for the occasion.
Some wore their finest beadwork.
Others carried decorated bows.
Several had painted their faces according to the traditions of their families.
They had brought horses, blankets, knives, gifts, and stories about themselves.
Each believed he had something worthy of Ayana.
One had killed a mountain lion alone.
Another had rescued two children during a flash flood.
A third was famous for tracking an enemy through bare stone where no ordinary man could see a footprint.
There was also Running Wolf, a tall warrior with broad shoulders and a reputation for never backing away from a challenge.
Many believed he would be Ayana's choice.
He certainly believed it himself.
But Ayana had never been impressed by men who spent too much time describing how impressive they were.
She stood beneath a cottonwood tree while the gathering continued.
She was twenty-four years old, with dark hair braided down her back and a turquoise pendant resting against her dress.
Her father had told her that she could choose freely.
Her mother had been gone for six winters, but Ayana still remembered her words.
"A strong man is not the one who makes others afraid," her mother had once told her.
"A strong man is the one who gives others a reason not to be afraid."
Ayana had never forgotten that.
She watched the warriors one by one.
Running Wolf approached first.
He spoke of his victories.
He spoke of horses he had captured and enemies he had defeated.
When he finished, several older men nodded approvingly.
Ayana smiled politely.
Then she shook her head.
The second man spoke of his family.
The third spoke of his wealth.
The fourth spoke of his courage.
One brought her a beautiful horse.
Another gave her a knife with an ivory handle.
A third presented a necklace of polished stones.
Ayana thanked them all.
She chose none of them.
As afternoon approached, Chief Whitehawk looked increasingly concerned.
He sat beside the ceremonial fire with several elders.
"This gathering cannot last forever," one elder said quietly.
Whitehawk nodded.
"I know."
"Perhaps she has already decided."
Whitehawk looked toward his daughter.
"I think she has."
"Then why does she wait?"
The chief did not answer.
Because he knew his daughter.
Ayana did not hesitate when she knew what she wanted.
She hesitated only when she was waiting for the right moment.
Then something unexpected happened.
A horse appeared at the far end of the valley.
It was a dusty bay gelding.
Its rider looked nothing like the warriors gathered beneath the cottonwoods.
He wore an old brown coat.
His hat was faded almost gray.
His boots were cracked.
A leather saddlebag hung against one side of the horse.
He carried a rifle across his back and a revolver at his hip.
He was not riding toward the village.
He was simply passing through.
The stranger looked exhausted.
Dust covered his shoulders.
His horse moved slowly, head lowered.
He probably had no idea that an important gathering was taking place.
Several young warriors turned to watch him.
Running Wolf laughed.
"Look at that."
The stranger did not react.
He simply continued riding.
Ayana watched him.
Something about the man caught her attention.
Not his clothes.
Not his weapon.
Not his horse.
It was the way he looked at the people.