Jesse looked at her, really looked. She was younger than he'd first thought, maybe 26, 27. Beautiful in the way of Apache women, with high cheekbones and a mouth that looked like it knew how to laugh, even though it was set in a hard line now. Strong despite her injuries. Her father's daughter in every way that mattered.
What's your name? Jesse asked. Nala. Nala Silver Hawk. Jesse Walker.
And I owe your father everything. What do you need? Nala's eyes narrowed. What? What do you need to get your sisters back?
Your father gave me my life when I had no right to it. I owe that debt, so tell me what you need. Nala studied him for a long moment. Jesse had the distinct feeling she was seeing past his skin, past his words, straight down to the truth of him, just like her father had all those years ago. Finally, she spoke.
I need guns. I need someone who knows white man's ways. I need a warrior who will not run when blood is shed. Jesse stood and offered her his hand. I'm not a hero, Nala.
I'm a broken-down cowboy with a bad heart and a worse past. Yeah, but I keep my debts. She took his hand. Her grip was iron. Then we have deal, Jesse Walker.
But know this, I lead, you follow. This is Apache fight. Jesse actually smiled, the first real smile in months. Fair enough. No.
They made camp under a cluster of mesquite trees as the sun died in the west. Jesse started a small fire and cooked a jackrabbit he'd shot earlier. Nala sat with her back against a rock, drinking water slowly, letting her body recover. Tell me, Jesse said as he turned the rabbit on its spit, tell me about your sisters, about Crane. Nala's face became a mask, but she spoke.
My father, Chief Silver Hawk, owned 2,400 acres near the Gila River in New Mexico Territory. Good land, water rights, registered in 1868 under the Homestead Act. Worth $12,000, maybe more. Jesse whistled low. That was serious money.
Railroad companies want it? Yes, but the land is legally ours. Papers filed, signed, witnessed. Crane cannot steal it unless unless there are no legal heirs to challenge the claim. Nala nodded.
Exactly. So, 3 months ago, Crane came to our village. He had 40 men. They attacked at dawn. My father tried to stop them.
Crane shot him in the back while he was trying to negotiate. Her voice didn't waver, but Jesse saw her hands clench. Before my father died, he gave us the moon wing tattoos, all six daughters. He told us someone would see the mark and remember. Someone who owed a debt.
She looked at Jesse. He meant you. Jesse felt the weight of that settle on his shoulders. Silver Hawk had planned this. Even dying, the old chief had been thinking three moves ahead.
Your sisters, Jesse said, where are they now? Separated. Crane is smart. Kiona, my eldest sister, she is 20, with her is Yazzie, youngest at 12. They are held at Crane's ranch in a place called Devil's Rim, 40 miles northeast of here.
Two guards on them always. 15 men total in the camp. And the others? Winona is 18. Ayana is 16.
They were sold to Mexican slavers 3 weeks ago, taken south to Sonora and Chinowa. Nala's voice finally broke slightly. Chinowa is 14. Crane is holding her in Tucson. He plans to sell her at auction on September 3rd, 9 days from now.
Jesse poked the fire with a stick, thinking. Three locations, five women. Crane had scattered them like seeds to make rescue impossible. What does Crane get out of this? Jesse asked.
Besides the land? He has a deal with the railroad companies. They will pay him $50,000 for our land, but only if the title is clean. No heirs to challenge, no legal claims. So, he kills your father, kidnaps all six daughters, sells or kills them, then files false documents claiming the land was legally transferred.
Yes. And he has connections. The sheriff in Tucson works for him, judges in Santa Fe, even some army officers. Jesse was quiet for a moment, then he said, there's something else you're not telling me. Nala looked at him sharply.
What makes you say that? Because Crane could have just killed all of you. Simpler. But he's keeping you alive, selling you. Why?
Nala's jaw tightened. Because Crane is building something worse than land theft. He takes Apache children young, 8, 9, 10 years old, raises them himself, trains them as soldiers loyal only to him. 15 children over 10 years. Three of them are from my father's own tribe.
He turned them against their families. Jesse felt cold despite the fire. Yeah, well. So, they can attack other Apache tribes, make it look like tribal warfare. Then the army comes in, pacifies everyone, and the land is declared abandoned.
Legal seizure. Crane has been doing this for years. Our land is just the biggest prize yet. Jesse stared into the fire. Silas Crane wasn't just a land thief, he was a monster, a smart monster with resources and a long-term plan.
Tomorrow, Jesse said, we go to Red Mesa Trading Post, gather information, find out exactly where Devil's Rim is and how to get in. Then we get Kiona and Yazzie out first. What about Winona and Ayana in Mexico? What about Chinowa? One step at a time.
We save who we can save when we can save them. Otherwise, we save nobody. Nala looked at him for a long moment. You have done this before. Rescued people.
It wasn't a question, but Jesse answered anyway. Not people. Soldiers. Different kind of rescue. He paused.
I was cavalry for 12 years. Did things I'm not proud of. Saw things that still wake me at night. Your people suffered because of men like me. I can't change that, but maybe I can balance the scales a little.
This is why you help, guilt? Guilt, debt, does it matter? Your father saved my life. I'm here to repay that. Everything else is just details.