Jake didn't say much about it because he wasn't a man of many words, but that night he prepared dinner for the two women himself for the first time since they had arrived at the ranch. It was a fairly simple stew, not very tasty compared to Moonflower's cooking, but the gesture meant more than any elaborate speech of thanks. The three ate together at the wooden table under the warm light of an oil lamp, sharing freshly baked bread and talking little, but smiling much. Outside the desert wind blew softly against the adobe walls of the house.
But inside there was warmth, there was abundant food, and something more that none of the three dared yet to name out loud. There was true peace, there was authentic belonging. There was the fragile, but beautiful beginning of something like a family. And for the first time in many years of loneliness and suffering, both Silent Wind and Moonflower went to sleep without feeling the crushing weight of shame on their tired shoulders.
Here on this modest ranch lost in the middle of the Arizona desert, no one called them cursed. No one looked at them with cruel pity. Here they were simply two valuable women who had much to offer the world. Peace never lasts forever.
Silent Wind knew that better than anyone, but she had begun to forget it during those happy months on Jake's ranch. Almost 4 months had passed since they had arrived half dead at the ranch. 4 months of honest work under the Arizona sun. 4 months of shared meals around the wooden table. 4 months of laughter, of comfortable silences, of glances that said more than words. The ranch had flourished under the care of three people who had found in that lost place something the world had denied them. A true home.
But that autumn morning, when the leaves were beginning to change color and the air brought the first cold of the season, the past returned uninvited. Silent Wind was in the garden picking ripe pumpkins when she heard the hooves of several horses approaching along the main path. She looked up and her heart stopped for an instant when she recognized the figures approaching. There were five Apache riders and at the front rode Wise Eagle, the chief of the tribe that had banished them months ago without any compassion.
Moonflower. Silent Wind called in a tense voice, not taking her eyes off the unexpected visitors. Come here right now. Moonflower came out of the house drying her hands with a kitchen cloth and upon seeing the riders, stood frozen like a stone statue.
The color completely from her face and her hands began to tremble uncontrollably. What do they want here? She whispered barely audible. They've come to finish what they started.
Wasn't leaving us to die in the desert enough? Jake appeared from the stable hearing the commotion. A work tool still in his hand. He assessed the situation with a single quick glance and walked calmly until he placed himself between the women and the approaching riders.
He said nothing threatening but his posture was clear. No one would hurt these women as long as he was alive to stop it. The rider stopped a few meters away. Wise Eagle dismounted slowly from his horse showing his advanced age in every movement of his tired body.
His face once proud and severe as a mountain now showed deep lines of worry and something Silent Wind had never seen in him before. Genuine desperation. Silent Wind the old man said in a hoarse, humble voice. Moon flower I have come to ask for your help.
Help repeated Silent Wind with bitter disbelief in every syllable. You banish us like dogs to the desert to die alone and now you come to ask for our help. What kind of cruel joke is this? Wise Eagle lowered his head with visible shame.
Something the proud chief had never done before anyone in his entire life. It is no joke. It is a desperate plea. Our tribe is dying and we don't know how to stop it.
He explained in a trembling voice that a mysterious illness had arrived at the camp three weeks earlier. It began with high fever and extreme weakness. Then came red spots on the skin and a persistent cough that wouldn't let anyone sleep. The elders were the first to fall ill.
Then the small children began to show the same terrifying symptoms. Two respected elders had already died and five children were so sick they could barely open their swollen eyes. We have tried everything we know. Wise Eagle continued tears forming in his old eyes.
"Our healers have used all the herbs they know, all the traditional methods that have worked before, but nothing works against this unknown illness. It keeps advancing mercilessly, taking the weakest first." "And why come to me specifically?" asked Silent Wind, crossing her arms over her chest. "According to you, I am a worthless widow, a burden undeserving of a place in the tribe." Wise Eagle swallowed with visible difficulty before answering. "Your mother, may she rest in peace, was the best healer our tribe had in generations.
She taught you everything she knew before leaving this world. You are the only person who might know something we don't know. You are our last hope." Silent Wind felt rage boil in her chest like water over a fire. She remembered every insult whispered behind her back.
She remembered the looks of contempt from the women she had once called friends. She remembered the cold night when they forced her to walk into the desert without enough food or water. She remembered her beloved husband's face before he died. And how the tribe treated her after losing him.
"You left us to die," she said in a voice as cold as winter. "I was unconscious for 3 days with a fever, while Moonflower cried thinking she would lose me forever. If this good man hadn't found us by chance, our white bones would now be scattered in the desert for the vultures to clean. And now you want me to help you?" Moonflower placed a gentle but firm hand on her friend's arm.
"Sister, listen to me for a moment. I understand your pain because it is mine, too. Every word you speak is true, and you have every right in the world to refuse. But think of the innocent children suffering right now.
They didn't vote to banish us. They didn't whisper insults behind our backs. They are innocent in all of this." The children are not guilty of the adults' cruel decisions, Jake added in a calm but firm voice from his protective position. "I also have reasons to hold a grudge against many people in this world, but I learned long ago that bitterness is a poison you drink hoping the other person will die.
You are better than them, Silent Wind. Prove it. Silent Wind closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, struggling with the emotions battling fiercely within her wounded heart. Part of her wanted to shout for them to leave, to suffer the consequences of their own cruelty, to taste the bitter flavor of abandonment that they had tasted.
But another part, the part her mother had cultivated with patience and love over years of teaching, reminded her of something important. The knowledge she had received was not to be kept selfishly. It was to help those who needed it, regardless of who they were or what they had done in the past. She opened her eyes and looked directly at the old man kneeling before her.