“Stop Me When It’s Too Much…” the Lonely Apache Murmured to the Bride He Won by Fate.

Chapter 2

**Jedediah Morse** — I was standing right there. Saw the whole thing. And I’m telling you, that coin wasn’t right. I was maybe ten feet from the table when the Apache put it down. Close enough to see what was on it.

Most folks don’t know this ’cause Sam Grace died before he could tell anyone. But I was with him the winter before the fever. We was fixing a fence line out past the ridge, and he pulled out a coin—same coin, I swear it—and showed me what he’d scratched into it. Said it was a reminder. Said he’d made a promise to someone, a long time ago, and that coin was his vow.

I asked him what promise. He just shook his head and rubbed that coin between his fingers, same way the Apache rubbed it before he put it on the table.

Sam Grace was a good man. Quiet. Kept to himself. But he had a past before he came to Dry Creek. Never spoke about it. Never said where he came from or what he’d done. Evelyn probably don’t know half of it. But I know this: Sam Grace was in the border wars. And I know he came back different.

Now, I ain’t saying an Apache and a white soldier got no reason to know each other. But I’m saying that coin—with those same scratches, worn the same way—ended up in that savage’s hand. And the day after Sam died, I saw Hollis going through Sam’s belongings. Taking things. Including a pouch that clinked when he walked.

So maybe I’m asking too many questions. But if that coin the Apache paid with was Sam Grace’s coin, how did a lone Apache get it? And what did Hollis take from Sam’s cabin that nobody’s seen since?

I ain’t saying the mayor had anything to do with Sam Grace dying right when his debt came due. I’m just saying the fever came awful convenient. And I’m saying there’s a lot of folks in Dry Creek who sleep better knowing Sam Grace is in the ground.

But maybe the ground ain’t done talking yet.

Chapter 3