The first rays of dawn filtered through the cracks in the cabin when Kate opened his eyes. The fire had dwindled to embers outside. The storm had ceased, leaving an absolute silence that only deep snow can create. He sat up slowly, careful not to startle the women. They were asleep, still huddled under his coat, breathing irregularly.
The woman, with soft features, was coughing even in her sleep. They were not well. They needed more than fire and shelter. Kate stoked the embers and added more wood. When the fire gained strength again, he inspected the cabin in the daylight.
It was worse than he remembered. The roof had holes. The windows were broken, partially covered with rotten planks. The wooden floor was damp and warped. There was an old table overturned in a corner and the remains of what was once a bed.
But it was a roof. It was shelter, and for now it was enough. He heard movement behind him. The woman with defiant eyes was awake watching him with the same cautious intensity as the night before. Kate held her gaze but did not approach.
"Good morning," he said quietly. "How is your friend feeling?" The woman did not answer. Her face was a mask of distrust. Kate sighed. "Look, I know you have no reason to trust me, but I need to know if she is sick.
She has a cough. It could be serious." The woman looked at her sleeping companion, then back at Kate. Finally, she spoke with a marked accent, but clear Spanish. She is weak. Too much cold.
Too much time. How long were you out there? The woman lowered her gaze. three days, maybe four. I don't know. Kate felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold.
3 or 4 days in the mountains in midwinter without proper shelter. It was a miracle they were still alive. They need hot food, water, blankets. Kate went to his saddle bag and took out the little. He had dried jerky, a bit of hard bread, a small bag of beans.
"It's not much, but it's something." The woman watched the food with barely contained hunger, but did not move to take it. "It's for you," Kate said, leaving it nearby. "I can get more. There is a town half a day's ride away. When the storm settles completely, I will go." "Why?" The question came out like an accusation.
"Why help?" Kate shrugged. "Because you were dying. I don't need more reason than that. White men do not help Apaches. White men, she stopped, pressing her lips together.
I am not white men, Kate said calmly. I am just Kate, a homeless cowboy passing through and you are not Apache to me. You are two people who needed help. The woman studied him for a long time. Kate saw something change in her eyes.
Not trust, not yet, but perhaps curiosity. I am Tala, she said finally. She is Sia. Kate Thornton. He nodded respectfully.
Nice to meet you, Tala. A soft groan interrupted the moment. Suga was waking up. Her eyes opened with confusion, then with fear when she didn't recognize where she was. Tala quickly approached, speaking to her in Apache, in a soft, soothing voice.
Kate retreated toward the door, giving them privacy. He needed to check outside anyway to see how much snow had fallen and to verify that his horse was okay. Outside the world was a perfect white blanket. The snow reached his knees. The trees were covered heavy with weight.
The sky was clear now, bright blue and ruthless in its beauty. His horse was where he had tied it under a small rock overhang. The animal snorted when it saw him, shaking the snow from its back. Kate checked it, ensuring it had no frostbite. It was fine, strong.
It had survived worse storms. Good boy, Kate murmured, patting the horse's neck. You saved us all last night. When he returned to the cabin, Tala had helped Sajia sit near the fire. The younger woman looked at him with huge, frightened eyes.
Tala had given her some jerky, which Sajaya chewed slowly, as if afraid it would disappear. Kate sat on the other side of the fire again, keeping his distance. Tala, if you allow me to ask, how did you two end up in the mountains in the middle of winter? Tala looked at Sajaya. The two women exchanged a long look.
Finally, Tala spoke. Our tribe cast us both out. Why? Tala clenched her jaw. Sajaya was married for five years.
She had no children. Her husband blamed her. The tribe blamed her. They said she was useless, that she brought bad luck. Her voice trembled with contained rage.
I defended Sajaya. I said it was unfair. That maybe the problem was the husband, not her. They told me to shut up, that women do not question men. But I didn't shut up, did I?
Tala raised her chin defiantly. So they threw us both out. No food, no shelter. They told us that if the spirits wanted us to live, we would survive. If not, she shrugged.
Then we would die, and the tribe would be better off without us. Kate felt a surge of anger toward people he would never meet. That is cruel. That is our world, Tala said without emotion. or it was Sajia spoke for the first time. Her voice was barely a whisper.
We thought we were going to die. We made peace with that. And then she looked at Kate with bright eyes. Then you arrived. Kate didn't know what to say.
Silence stretched, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Finally, Tala broke the silence. This cabin is yours? No. It belongs to no one.
An old mine closed years ago. The miners left. The cabin remained abandoned. And you? Do you have a home family?
No, I am a traveling cowboy. I work temporarily on ranches. They pay me, I leave. I have no roots, Tala frowned, processing this. So, you are also alone, homeless.