Heard about a wounded Apache woman, he said, his eyes cold and assessing. Survived a blast near Copper Creek. Word also says you were left behind. Behind the barn, Josiah stepped out quietly, his rifle in hand. "What do you want?" Tala asked, her voice flat.
Haron shrugged. Some folks are offering a bounty for Apache fighters. Doesn't matter about the legs, just the name. A flash of something deeper than fear, colder than anger went through her. She did not move.
She did not glance behind her. She just stared straight at the man. "You here for the bounty?" she asked. He smiled, just scouting. It was then that Josiah stepped into view, his rifle held low, but his meaning clear.
"It ain't true," he said. Harlon turned, his hand drifting to his belt. "She's under my roof," Josiah said, his voice quiet, but unshakable. "And she stays." "A long, tense moment passed." Harlon looked between the two of them, weighing his chances. He saw the flat, empty look in Josiah's eyes, the look of a man who had already lived through worse, and he made his choice.
"No need for blood," he muttered. "Ain't nothing here worth dying over." He turned his horse and rode off. Not fast, but not slow either. Josiah didn't lower the rifle until the dust cloud was a speck in the distance. When he finally stepped up onto the porch, Tala's hand was still wrapped tight around the knife handle under her blanket.
"She let it go slowly, exhaling for the first time in minutes." "They know," she said. "They always did," Josiah replied. "Just didn't care until now." He sat beside her, both of them staring out at the trail. "You think he'll be back?" she asked. Josiah shook his head.
He'll send someone worse. That night, they did not talk much. After dinner, Josiah pulled up a trap door from beneath the rug under the table, revealing a hidden space beneath the floor. "If we need it," he said. "You built that for me?" she asked, her voice quiet.
He nodded. "After you had the fever." She looked at him for a long time, then leaned forward and kissed him, a slow, deep kiss that was full of a fierce, protective love. I'll kill for this place," she said. "You understand that." I already have, he replied. The morning after Harlland's visit, the wind blew hard from the east, stirring grit through the valley.
The sky looked bruised, pale in the corners. Tala sat near the doorway, wrapped in Josiah's old coat, her eyes trained on the trail. He was tightening the hinges on a barn door, making sure it could close and fast if needed. The cellar beneath the floor was stocked. Food, tools, lamp oil, enough to last a few days if it came to that.