We've come a long way in search of water. Is this well still being used? The well belongs to everyone, traveler. But every drop of water comes with a price. It's to pay that very price that we are on this journey.
He thought giving three dying strangers a little water would cost him nothing. He was wrong. Late one scorching afternoon, a lonely cowboy found three Apache strangers collapsed beside a dry trail barely strong enough to lift their heads. His canteen held his last water, but he gave it to them anyway. That night, he expected them to disappear.
But at sunrise, he stepped outside and froze. The three strangers were standing silently beside his cabin, staring toward the hills. Then one of them pointed at his front door and whispered, "They know you helped us." The cowboy looked down. Someone had left a bloody arrow on his doorstep.
Cole Mercer had spent years learning how to survive alone. His small cabin stood miles from the nearest settlement, surrounded by dry hills, empty trails, and endless stretches of wilderness. He worked cattle when he could find the jobs, repaired fences for a little money, and kept mostly to himself. Life had not been kind to him, but Cole had never complained. He owned an old rifle, a tired horse, a few basic supplies, and a canteen that was nearly empty.
What little he had, he protected carefully. Still, Cole had one rule he refused to break. If someone was in danger, he would help them. That rule was tested on one of the hottest afternoons he could remember. Cole was riding home across a rocky trail when he noticed something strange near a group of dead trees.
At first, he thought the shapes were abandoned blankets or fallen branches. Then, one of them moved. Cole pulled his horse to a stop. Three people were lying beneath the trees. As he approached, he realized they were Apache strangers.
An older man named Tomas struggled to lift his head. A young woman named Ara appeared barely conscious, while a teenage boy named Saurin was trying to remain alert despite his exhaustion. Their clothing was covered in dust, and their faces showed how long they had been traveling without enough water. Cole immediately understood their condition. They were close to death.
He looked at his own canteen. It was almost empty. The ride home would still take hours, and without water, he could become as desperate as the strangers lying before him. For a moment, Cole hesitated. Then he remembered his father's words from years ago.
When someone is dying in front of you, you do not ask whether helping them is convenient. Cole climbed down from his horse and handed Tomas the canteen. The old man drank slowly before passing it to Ara. Saurin took the final few mouthfuls. Cole watched his last supply of water disappear, knowing he might regret the decision before reaching home, but he said nothing.
Instead, he opened his saddle bag and gave them the little food he had left. The strangers looked suspicious. They were clearly accustomed to people demanding something in return for kindness. Cole simply told them they could rest as long as they needed. He did not want payment, promises, or anything else.
As the sun began to disappear, Cole offered to take them to his cabin. They accepted. During the journey, Cole noticed something strange. Tomas kept turning around, watching the trail behind them. Ara repeatedly studied the hills while Saurin kept one hand close to a small leather pouch hidden beneath his shirt.