Cole drank it in one swallow, set the glass down, and gestured for another. "Rough week?" the bartender asked. "Something like that." Cole was halfway through his second drink when the doors swung open, and three women walked in. He recognized them immediately.
The tall one, dark-skinned, sharp-eyed, moving with a confidence that hadn't been there in the canyon, led the way. The other two flanked her. One was smaller, wiry, with sun-bleached hair and a scar running down her jaw. The other was older, maybe 40, with gray streaking her black hair and a face that looked like it had seen every hard thing the world had to offer. They walked straight to Cole's table and stopped.
The tall one spoke first. "We've been looking for you." Cole set his glass down slowly. "You made it to the trading post." "We did."
She pulled out a chair and sat without asking. The other two followed. "Thanks to you." "You don't owe me anything." "That's where you're wrong."
Cole frowned. "I did what anybody would have done." The smaller woman laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. "No, you did what nobody else would have done, and now you're stuck with us." "I'm not stuck with anybody."
The tall woman leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "My name is Kaya. This is Lyra." She gestured to the smaller woman. "And Sani." The older woman nodded.
"We come from a place where debts aren't optional. You saved our lives. That means something." "It means I made a choice," Cole said. "Doesn't mean you owe me."
"We disagree." Cole drained his whiskey. "Well, you're free to disagree somewhere else." Kaya didn't move. "We're not leaving until we repay you."
"I don't want your money." "Good, because we don't have any." Cole stared at her. "Then what exactly are you offering?" Kaya smiled, slow, deliberate, and nothing like gratitude.
"Ourselves." Cole blinked. "What?" "We'll follow you," Kaya said. "Wherever you go, whatever you need, until the debt is settled."
"That's..." Cole stopped and shook his head. "That's insane." "It's tradition," Sani said quietly. "Where we're from, a life debt can't be ignored, and it can't be refused." Cole stood up, chair scraping against the floor.
"I'm refusing it." Kaya stood too, meeting his eyes without flinching. "Then we'll follow you anyway." "I'll leave town." "We'll follow."
"I'll ride into the desert and not look back." "We'll follow." Cole's jaw tightened. "Why?" "Because you gave us our lives back," Kaya said simply.
"And where we come from, that means your life is ours to protect, to serve, to stand beside, whether you want it or not." Cole looked at the other two. Lyra shrugged. Sani's expression didn't change. "This is crazy," Cole said.
"Maybe," Kaya agreed. "But it's the truth." Cole sat back down, suddenly exhausted. He rubbed his face with both hands, feeling the weight of the last few days pressing down on him. "I don't need protection," he said finally.
"Everyone needs something," Kaya replied. Cole looked up at her, and for the first time he saw something in her eyes that wasn't determination or duty. It was something quieter, something that looked almost like hope. "What if I told you to go home?" he asked.
"We don't have a home anymore." "What if I told you to start over somewhere else?" "We'd rather start over here." Cole exhaled slowly. "You're not going to leave, are you?"
Kaya smiled again. "No." "Damn it." Lyra laughed. "You'll get used to us."
"I doubt that." Sani leaned forward, voice calm and steady. "We're not asking you to marry us, Cole Mercer. We're not asking for anything except the chance to repay what we owe. Let us ride with you."
"Let us help. And when the debt is settled, we'll go." Cole studied her face, then Kaya's, then Lyra's. They weren't lying. They believed every word.
And that somehow made it worse. "Fine," he said finally. "But I'm leaving at dawn, and I'm not slowing down for anyone." Kaya nodded. "We won't slow you down."
"And when I say the debt's settled, it's settled. No arguments." "Agreed." Cole stood, tossed a few coins on the table, and headed for the door. Behind him, he heard Lyra whisper something to Kaya, and Kaya's quiet reply, "He'll understand eventually."
Cole pushed through the doors and stepped into the fading daylight, already regretting every decision that had led him there. The desert didn't forgive mistakes, and he'd just made a big one. Dawn came cold and gray, the kind of morning that made a man question why he bothered getting out of bed. Cole was saddling his horse outside the livery when he heard footsteps behind him. Three sets, moving in sync like they'd practiced it.
He didn't turn around. "Thought maybe you'd changed your minds," he said, cinching the girth tight. "We don't change our minds," Kaya replied. Cole glanced over his shoulder. All three women stood there with bedrolls slung across their backs and worn saddlebags at their feet.
They looked ready. Too ready, like they'd been up half the night preparing. "You got horses?" he asked. Lyra jerked her thumb toward the livery. "Bought three yesterday. Used the last of our coin."
"What'd you buy them with if you're broke?" "We had jewelry," Sani said quietly. "Sold it." Cole turned back to his horse, frowning. Jewelry meant something.
It meant they'd had lives before all this, maybe good ones. And they'd traded those lives away to follow a man they barely knew into a desert that would kill them without hesitation. He should have told them to keep the horses and ride the other direction. Instead, he said, "We're heading north. There's work in Silver Ridge if the rumors are true."
"Cattle drive needs extra hands." "We can handle cattle," Lyra said. "You ever worked a drive before?" "No." "Then you can't handle cattle."
Lyra grinned. "Guess we'll learn." Cole swung into the saddle, settled his weight, and looked down at them. "This isn't going to be easy. The work's brutal, the pay's worse, and most trail bosses won't hire women even if you're twice as good as the men."