She smiled faintly. "We have plenty of that." Cole looked away, staring out at the dark hills. "I don't stay places, Kaya. Never have." "Maybe it's time to start."
Before Cole could answer, Lyra and Sani emerged from their bedrolls, stretching and yawning. Lyra caught the tail end of the conversation and raised an eyebrow. "Are we talking about settling down?" she asked. "Kaya is," Cole said. "And what do you think?"
"I think it's a bad idea." "Why?" "Because nothing good lasts out here. You build something and the desert tears it down. You put down roots and someone comes along to rip them up."
Sani sat down beside the fire, her expression thoughtful. "Then we build something strong enough that it can't be torn down." Cole shook his head. "You three don't know what you're asking." "Yes, we do," Kaya said.
"We're asking you to stop running." "I'm not running." "Then what do you call it?" Cole didn't have an answer. The conversation lingered in the back of his mind for days, gnawing at him like a splinter he couldn't dig out.
The women didn't bring it up again, but he could feel the question hanging between them, heavy and unresolved. And then, ten years to the day after the canyon, the women made their move. They'd stopped in a town called Stillwater Crossing, a nothing place with one street and a general store. Cole was inside buying supplies, and when he came back out, he found all three women waiting for him. Their expressions were different, serious, determined.
"We need to talk," Kaya said. Cole set the supplies down. "About what?" "About the debt." Cole's stomach sank.
"I thought we were past this." "We were never past it," Sani said. "We were just waiting." "Waiting for what?" Kaya stepped forward.
"For the right time. For you to be ready." "Ready for what?" "For us to repay what we owe." Cole's heart was pounding now, a sick, heavy rhythm.
"You've repaid it a hundred times over." "No," Kaya said. "We haven't." She took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was steady, formal, like she was reciting something she'd memorized. "Cole Mercer, ten years ago you saved our lives."
"By the laws of our people, that binds us to you. The debt can only be repaid one way, by offering our lives in return. Not as servants, not as companions, but as wives." The world tilted. Cole stared at her, certain he'd misheard.
"What?" "We offer ourselves," Kaya said. "Marriage, loyalty, a shared destiny, all of it, freely given." "You're joking." "We're not."
Cole looked at Lyra, then Sani. Both of them nodded. "This is insane," he said, his voice rising. "You can't just... People don't..." "In our culture, they do," Sani said quietly.
"Then your culture's wrong." "It's our truth," Kaya said. "And we're offering it to you." Cole backed away, hands raised like he was warding off a physical blow. "No. Absolutely not."