He wondered if this was how his father had felt when he died.
Alone.
Too tired to continue.
Too stubborn to surrender.
Then he heard something.
Hoofbeats.
Elias struggled to reach his rifle.
The sound grew closer.
But before he could raise the weapon, someone shouted.
Not in English.
Not in fear.
In command.
Several riders appeared against the moonlit ridge.
Elias recognized them immediately.
Apache warriors.
He raised the rifle.
Then the woman on Ash called out.
The warriors stopped.
She spoke rapidly.
One of the older men dismounted and approached Elias.
Elias prepared himself.
Instead, the man extended a hand.
Elias stared at it.
Then took it.
The world went black.
When he opened his eyes again, he smelled smoke.
Not gunpowder.
Not burning wood.
Food.
Elias groaned.
A voice spoke nearby.
"You are difficult to kill."
He opened his eyes.
The wounded woman sat beside a small fire.
Her wound had been treated properly.
Fresh herbs covered the injury.
Her posture was straighter.
Her eyes were clearer.
"You look disappointed," Elias said.
"I am surprised."
"That's better."
She handed him a water skin.
He drank carefully.
"Your horse?"
"Safe."
"My rifle?"
"Beside you."
"My boots?"
She glanced down.
"Still ugly."
Elias laughed.
It hurt his ribs.
The woman almost smiled.
Almost.
"My name is Naelli."
"Elias Crow."
"I know."
He frowned.
"How?"
"You spoke your name when you were unconscious."
"That's embarrassing."
"You also argued with a dead man."
Elias looked at her.
"I did?"
She nodded.
"You told him you were not ready to die."
"Sounds like me."
Naelli studied him.
"You gave away your horse."
"I lent her."
"You walked into the desert without water."
"I had some."
"Not enough."
"Details."
"You could have died."
Elias shrugged.
"Could have."
Naelli looked into the fire.
"My people believe a life saved creates an obligation."
"I don't want one."
"You don't choose."
Elias sighed.
"I was afraid you'd say that."
He did not yet understand what that debt would mean.
He did not know that Naelli was not simply a wounded traveler.
She was the daughter of an Apache leader.
He did not know that five other young women were missing.
He did not know that men were already searching the territory for them.
And he certainly did not know that by sunrise, his quiet life would be gone forever.
The following morning, Naelli led him through a narrow canyon.
Elias expected a temporary camp.
Instead, they emerged into a hidden valley.
There were horses.
Cooking fires.
Families.
Children.
Hunters.
Elders.
And, standing beneath a cottonwood tree, five young Apache girls.
They watched Elias with suspicion.