THE APACHE WARRIOR LOVED HER FOR ONE NIGHT – YEARS LATER, HE RETURNED TO CLAIM HER HEART
Chapter 2
Two days passed in a blur of quiet preparation. Hannah rode into Santa Fe and came back with her savings turned into gold, sealed in a leather pouch she wore against her ribs. She wrote letters to her suppliers, told a puzzled Miguel she was taking an extended journey, and left instructions to keep the ranch running whether she returned in a month or a year. Every night she touched the turquoise stone and sent her thoughts into the dark.
Eliza watched her like a hawk watches a rabbit. On the second afternoon she cornered Hannah in the bedroom, her face gray with worry. “This course you are set upon is madness. Running off with an Apache warrior — a man your own father’s soldiers have hunted for years.”
“My mind is made up, Eliza.”
“You will throw away everything you have built for three days beside a waterfall five years ago.”
“I will choose my own life, on my own terms,” Hannah said. “If you love me, you will understand — even if you cannot accept it.”
Eliza left without a word, and Hannah hoped the matter was closed.
The dust appeared mid-morning on the third day — a brown smudge rising out of the direction of Fort Union. Hannah counted the riders, and her stomach turned to stone. Six of them. Captain William Reynolds at the head, five soldiers behind him.
“Miss Walker,” Reynolds said, doffing his hat. “Your father was concerned when he received no answer to his letter. He sent me to ensure your safety — and, if you had made your decision, to escort you back to the fort.”
“As you can see, Captain, I am perfectly safe.”
But he did not leave. He asked for a meal, then announced that his men would camp in the yard and he would take the guest room — Colonel Walker had ordered him to remain until her decision was made. The word “escort” hardened into something closer to “guard.” The soldiers made themselves comfortable with every appearance of settling in for days.
That night, while Reynolds slept off the long ride, Hannah cornered Eliza in the kitchen. “Tell me,” she said, her voice low and dangerous, “that you did not send word to my father.”
Eliza would not meet her eyes. “I sent a letter, child. I wrote that I feared you were planning to leave the ranch for good.” Her voice broke. “I did it because I love you. I could not watch you destroy yourself.”
Hannah gripped the table, her knuckles white. Nokashi would come at moonrise — tonight — expecting to find her ready. Instead he would walk into a yard full of the very men sworn to hunt him down.
“He’ll come tonight, Eliza,” Hannah breathed. “And they will hang him from the nearest cottonwood before I can speak his name.”
Eliza’s face went pale. “What have I done?”