So speak carefully. Ethan dismounted and approached Nashoba. He met the older man's eyes, kept his voice steady. I know what you've lost, Ethan said. I know what they've taken from you, and I know you have no reason to trust me, but we have a common enemy.
Vance. He burned my home, killed my family, and now he's hunting both of us. If we fight together, we can end him. If we don't, he'll pick us off one by one until there's nothing left. Nashoba listened without expression.
When Ethan finished, the old man spoke, his English slow but clear. You are white. Your people have taken everything from us. Why should I believe you will not do the same? Because I don't have people anymore.
I'm alone, just like you. Nashoba stared at him for a long, tense moment. Then he smiled, sharp and cold. You are not alone. You have her.
He gestured to Ayla, and she has you. That is more than most. He paused. We have been killing Vance's scouts, taking their weapons. We know they are coming, and we will be ready.
How many warriors do you have? 12, Maybe 15 if the boys fight. Vance has 20 men, maybe more by now. Then we will need a better plan than numbers. Ethan felt the tension ease slightly.
I've got some ideas. Nashoba's smile widened. Good, then we fight together, and when it is done, you and I will talk about what comes after. Fair enough. That night, Ethan sat with Nashoba and the warriors planning the ambush.
The Apache knew this land better than anyone. They knew where Vance would ride, where he'd camp, where he'd be vulnerable. Ethan contributed what he knew about militia tactics, how they moved, how they thought. By midnight, they had a plan. It was brutal.
It was desperate. And it just might work. Ayla found Ethan later, sitting alone near the creek, staring at the water. She sat beside him, saying nothing at first. They trust you, she said finally.
That is rare. They trust you. I'm just the guy you brought along. You are more than that. You're the man who chose to stand when it would have been easier to run.