About understanding. She was wrong. He didn't understand them, didn't understand why three women would bind themselves to a stranger over something as flimsy as a life debt. It didn't make sense. People didn't work that way.
They took what they needed and moved on. And anyone who said otherwise was lying or stupid. But the women had sold their jewelry, had spent their last coin on horses just to follow him into uncertainty. That wasn't lying. That wasn't stupid.
That was something else entirely, and Cole didn't know what to do with it. He stared into the fire until his eyes burned, then looked away, scanning the darkness for movement that never came. When Kaya woke him hours later, he didn't remember falling asleep. They reached Silver Ridge by late afternoon the next day, the town sprawling along the base of a rust-colored mesa like it had been dropped there by accident. It was bigger than Redemption Flats, more buildings, more people, more noise.
But it had the same worn-down look that frontier towns always did. Everything was temporary, built fast and cheap, ready to be abandoned when the silver ran out or the water dried up. Cole led them to a stable on the edge of town, paid for the horses to be fed and watered, and told the women to wait while he asked around about work. "We're coming with you," Kaya said. "No, you're not."
"Yes, we are." Cole sighed. "You're going to make this harder than it needs to be." "Probably," Lyra said cheerfully. They found the trail boss in a saloon near the center of town, a broad-shouldered man named Garrett with a sun-scorched face and hands like slabs of meat.
He was drinking whiskey at a corner table, surrounded by maps and ledgers, and he didn't look up when Cole approached. "You Garrett?" Cole asked. "Who's asking?" "Cole Mercer. Heard you're hiring for a cattle drive."
Garrett finally looked up, his eyes flicking from Cole to the three women standing behind him. His expression didn't change, but something in his posture shifted. A subtle tensing, like he was bracing for trouble. "I'm hiring drovers," Garrett said slowly. "Experienced drovers."
"I've worked cattle before," Cole said. "So have they." Garrett's eyebrows rose. "They?" "These three. They're good hands."
Garrett leaned back in his chair, studying them with the kind of skepticism Cole had expected. "I don't hire women." "Why not?" "Because cattle drives are dangerous, dirty, and no place for—" "For what?" Kaya interrupted, stepping forward.
"For people who can ride, rope, and shoot?" Garrett's jaw tightened. "For people who'll slow me down." "We won't slow you down," Kaya said. "You ever been on a drive before?"
"No." "Then you'll slow me down." Lyra laughed, sharp and sudden. "You ever think maybe your problem isn't women, it's that you're bad at training?" Garrett's face darkened.
"Get out." Cole held up a hand. "Look, I get it. You don't know us, but we need the work and you need the hands. Give us a trial run. One week."