She ran to him and he caught her, holding on like she was the only solid thing in a world that kept trying to pull him under. "I thought you were dead," she said into his chest. "Not yet." "Do not joke." "I'm not. I'm just stubborn." She pulled back looking him over, her hands checking for injuries. "You are hurt." "I've been worse." "That is not comforting." Kael appeared then, limping slightly, his face still showing the bruises from his captivity.
When he saw Ethan, his whole face lit up. He said something in Apache, rapid and emotional. "He says you are the bravest man he has ever known," Aela translated. "And the most foolish, and he is honored to call you brother." Ethan looked at the kid, this fierce, loyal, impossible kid, and felt something shift inside him. "Tell him the honor's mine, and tell him if he ever gets captured again, I'm going to be really annoyed." Kael grinned and threw his arms around Ethan in a crushing hug.
The camp celebrated that night, a small fire and quiet songs, the kind of celebration people have when they've survived something terrible and know more terrible things are coming. Ethan sat with Aela, his arm around her shoulders, and watched the flames dance. "Morrison will send more soldiers," Aela said quietly. "They will not stop until they find us." "I know." "So, what do we do?" "We disappear, deep into the mountains where they can't follow. And we wait for winter to do what we can't, drive them back to their warm barracks and leave us alone." "And in the spring?" "In the spring, I'm going to Prescott." She stiffened.
"Why?" "Because Morrison and men like him need to be stopped. And the only way to do that is to expose what they've done, what Vance did, all of it." "They will kill you." "Maybe. Or maybe I'll find someone who cares about the truth more than the convenient lie." He looked at her. "I can't keep running, Aela. And I can't let my child grow up in a world where monsters like Vance and Morrison go unpunished." "You cannot fight the whole territorial government." "I'm not trying to fight them.
I'm trying to make them fight each other. There are good people in Prescott, people who believe in law and justice. If I can get the truth in front of them, they will ignore it. They always do." "Then I'll make so much noise they can't ignore it." Ethan's jaw set. "I'm done hiding.
I'm done letting other people decide what happens. I'm going to stand up and make them look at what they've done. And if that gets me killed, at least I'll die on my feet." Aela was quiet for a long time. Then she said, "Then I'm coming with you." "No, you're pregnant. You're staying here where it's safe." "Nowhere is safe.
You know this." Her voice was steel. "And if you are going to do something this stupid, you will not do it alone." They argued about it for days. Ethan insisted she stay. Aela refused. Nashoba sided with Aela, pointing out that a white man walking into Prescott alone would be arrested on sight, but a white man with an Apache wife would be harder to dismiss, harder to silence.
In the end, Ethan gave in. Not because he thought it was a good idea, but because he recognized the same stubborn fire in Aela that had brought her to his ranch all those months ago. She wasn't asking permission. She was informing him of her decision. They spent the winter preparing.
The camp moved deeper into the mountains to a hidden valley where the snow drifted deep and the wind howled like a living thing. It was brutal. Three of the elders died, their bodies too frail to withstand the cold. Two children got sick with fever, though both survived. Food was scarce.
Every day was a battle. But they survived. And in those long, dark months, Ethan learned something he'd forgotten. That survival wasn't just about staying alive, it was about finding reasons to keep living. And he found them in Aela's growing belly, in Kael's determination to master every skill Ethan taught him, in Nashoba's quiet wisdom, in the community that had taken him in and made him one of their own.