Jonah's voice remained calm.
“Cut it.”
“You don't give orders here.”
Jonah pointed toward the document.
“Then read the affidavit.”
Hutchins did not move.
Jonah continued.
“It states that the transfer violated territorial law.”
The deputy stepped closer.
“What law?”
Jonah turned.
“The one that requires a captured civilian to be processed through the proper territorial authority before any transfer can occur.”
The deputy frowned.
“You calling her a civilian?”
Jonah looked at Tala.
“I am.”
Tala stared at him.
No one had called her that since the soldiers arrived.
Civilian.
Not prisoner.
Not property.
Not merchandise.
The deputy looked toward Hutchins.
Hutchins looked at the crowd.
Finally, the soldier approached Tala.
He cut the rope.
Her arms dropped.
Pain shot through her wrists.
Tala nearly stumbled.
She caught herself.
Jonah did not reach for her.
Instead, he stepped back.
That surprised her.
Most men who had approached her since her capture had done the opposite.
They grabbed.
They pulled.
They ordered.
Jonah gave her space.
“You can stand?” he asked.
Tala nodded.
“Can you walk?”
Another nod.
He pointed toward a wagon.
“There is water there.”
She looked at him suspiciously.
“Why?”
Jonah paused.
“Because you're thirsty.”
That was all.
No demand.
No bargain.
No condition.
Tala walked toward the wagon.
Her legs were shaking.
She hated that he could see it.
But when she reached the canteen, Jonah turned his back.
He gave her privacy even while the whole town watched.
She drank.
Then she looked at him.
“Why?”
Jonah understood the question.
Why did you interfere?
Why did you spend your money?
Why do you care?
His answer came slowly.
“Because somebody should.”
Tala looked away.
She had no response.
Jonah climbed onto the wagon.
“You don't have to come with me.”
That surprised her even more.
He pointed toward the western road.
“My ranch is fifteen miles away.”
He looked at the soldiers.
“It's safe.”
Then he looked back at Tala.
“You can come.”
He paused.
“Or you can go.”
For the first time that morning, Tala realized she had been offered a choice.
It was not a large choice.
It did not erase the soldiers.
It did not restore her family.
It did not undo the rope.
But it was still a choice.
Tala climbed into the wagon.
Jonah said nothing.
They left Black Mesa before noon.
Neither spoke for the first hour.
The road stretched west through dry country.
The mountains looked blue in the distance.
Tala sat at the far edge of the wagon seat.
Jonah held the reins.
He did not ask questions.
That helped.
She was tired of questions.
Where did you come from?
How many are with you?
Who was your leader?
Where is your family?
Questions had followed her for weeks.
Jonah offered silence.
Eventually, Tala fell asleep.
She woke when the wagon stopped.
They were beneath a cluster of mesquite trees.
Jonah had built a small fire.
Food waited on a flat stone.
Bread.
Beans.
Dried meat.
Water.
He walked several yards away.