I couldn’t tell you what day it was might have been a Tuesday might have been the ass end of forever out here in Apache country the sun just keeps coming up and going down and the calendar burns with everything else you used to own days don’t bother with names anymore they just spill one into the next slow and red as whiskey poured into creek water but I remember her eyes dark as sin staring up at me from that bear trap with enough hate to burn down Missouri she had a knife in her hand blood soaking the sand around her leg

and she was deciding whether to kill me or herself first hell she was sharp most folks would have been bawling and pleading she just stared like I was the reaper himself riding up on horseback and maybe that day I was I’d killed four Apache near Fort Bowie during the war wore a Union Scout uniform and did things I don’t talk about anymore so when I knelt down beside her and reached for that trap I figured she’d put that knife through my throat she didn’t that’s when I should have known should have seen what was coming

but a man who’s been dead inside for four years doesn’t recognize danger when she’s bleeding out in front of him I never figured saving a life would turn around and take mine but it did the buck I’d been tracking LED me to her funny how things work I was following blood through the rocks thinking about dinner when I heard breathing wrong kind of breathing the kind that comes when pain’s been gnawing on you for hours and you’re too stubborn to quit she was sprawled between two red boulders one leg bent wrong where the trap had her steel

teeth buried deep chain bolted to a rock half the size of a horse this wasn’t for catching coyotes this was for catching people I’d seen those traps before Genizaro’s used them Mexican slavers with Indian blood who made their living stealing Apache women and children selling them south of the border domestic slaves they called them we both knew what they really were she said something in Apache when I came close sharp warning her knife hand was shaking but her eyes were steady I’ve seen men face firing squads with less composure

I knew enough of patchi to understand one word indah white man easy I said keeping my hands visible I’m not here to hurt you she said something else that probably translated to go to hell or I’ll gut you but her body was giving out blood loss and infection were doing what that trap couldn’t I’ve opened bear traps before this one was stiff crusted with old blood not her blood someone else’s while I worked the mechanism I thought about riding away thought about how much easier my life would be if I just left her there

then I thought about my daughter Sarah 7 years old when the plague took her same age this woman might have had a child if the world had been different my hands kept moving when those jaws opened she gasped first real sound of pain she’d made I wrapped my Bandana around her calf cinched it tight the bleeding slowed but didn’t stop she needed clean water shelter time three things this territory didn’t give freely can you ride I asked she looked at me like I was stupid probably was but she let me lift her onto my horse and that told me something

she was practical enough to accept help from a man she’d probably kill if she had the strength we rode west toward a spring I knew her weight heavy against my chest her blood soaking through my shirt behind us I saw what I’d been afraid of fresh tracks four horses all shod the men who set that trap were still close I pushed the horse harder the cave wasn’t much just an overhang in the Red Rock with enough depth to hide a horse and two people but it had water seeping from a crack in the stone and more importantly it had only one entrance I could watch

her leg was worse than I’d thought the trap had crushed muscle clean through to bone by the second day infection had set in fever came on hard I heated my knife in the fire and cut into the wound to drain the poison she bit down on a piece of leather eyes locked on mine and didn’t make a sound when it was over she passed out that night she started talking Apache in her sleep one name again and again started gentle turned pleading then pure fury then just stopped like someone yanked the sound right out of her throat

I sat against the cave wall rifle across my knees and wondered what the hell I was doing wondered if the men who set that trap were worth killing over wondered if she’d thank me or curse me when she woke up third morning I spotted dust on the ridge four riders moving slow quartering the country like hounds one had glasses glinting in the sun they meant business I loaded my rifle and waited that’s when she spoke up behind me English plain and steady first time I’d heard it from her why did you save me I didn’t turn around

seem like the thing to do they’ll kill you for this maybe silence then you’ve killed a patchy before wasn’t a question I don’t know how she knew but she did maybe it was how I moved how I tied knots how I read tracks men who’ve hunted other men carry it different than men who’ve hunted animals yes I said during the war I was a scout for the Union Fort Bowie how many four that I know of for certain more silence when she spoke again her voice was different not softer just uh considering I’ve killed white men too

soldiers who shot my husband I killed three before they rode away I turned then looked at her properly for the first time she was sitting up back against the stone her bandaged leg stretched out her face was gaunt from fever but her eyes were sharp there was something in that look I recognized two people admitting they’d done violence and survived it what’s your name I asked Kiona she studied me what do they call you different things most of them not friendly a ghost of a smile I believe that we sat there in the cave mouth while the sun moved across the sky

watching those riders search they never found us by evening they’d moved south but we both knew they’d be back they came at dawn didn’t announce themselves didn’t make noise just materialized out of the grey morning light like shadows given form 12 Apache warriors armed with rifles and bows moving in perfect silence I stepped out of the cave with my hands up rifle left inside fighting would have been suicide and more importantly it would have gotten Kiona killed the man who LED them was old 60 at least but he moved like water over stone

he wore Medicine Man markings and carried a rifle that had seen better days when he saw Kayona sitting in the cave entrance something crossed his face relief then anger he said something in Apache Keona answered they went back and forth while I stood there like a fence post knowing my life was being decided in a language I barely understood finally he turned to me his English was accented but clear you touched my daughter the way he said it made my blood cold not angry just measuring I treated her wounds I said nothing else

you saved her life anyone would have no he shook his head slowly most men would not most men would leave her to die or worse his eyes held mine you stayed with her for three days you protected her from the slavers you gave her water treated her wounds kept her warm he paused by our law you have responsibility now Keona said something sharp he raised a hand silenced her I am nakitats medicine man of the Chiricahua this is my eldest daughter she is widow two years ago soldiers killed her husband while she watched

he studied me like I was a book he was reading among our people when a man saves a widow’s life touches her body to heal her spends days alone with her he takes on obligation he must provide for her protect her live with her family the words hit me square in the chest you’re saying I have to marry her I am saying you already have you just don’t know it yet he gestured at Kiona she is medicine woman healer carries sacred knowledge she cannot be left without Protection you understand what those men wanted her for

I understood Genizaro’s didn’t just take Apache women for domestic work they took them for other things things I won’t say out loud and if I refuse I asked then you dishonor her make her untouchable to other men she becomes burden on family cannot remarry loses place in community his face hardened we will not kill you but you will carry that knowing for rest of your life I looked at Kiona she was watching me with an expression I couldn’t read not pleading not angry just waiting what do you want I asked her directly

she was quiet for a long moment then what I want does not matter it matters to me that got a reaction her eyes widened just slightly Naki Tatz made a small sound that might have been approval Keona spoke carefully those men who trapped me they are still out there they hunt my people they take women and children she paused if you marry me you become part of my family part of my tribe you help protect us her gaze held mine or you can leave go back to whatever you were running from stay alone stay safe that word safe sat there ugly between us

four years of waking up to nothing two graves back in Missouri because I was off playing hero in a blue coat four years trying to outrun the smell of that burned house couldn’t do it I’ll stay I said not because of your law because I owe her nakitats nodded once reason does not matter action does the rancheria wasn’t what I expected no big tepees no war camps just small wickiups scattered across a protected valley easy to move easy to abandon if soldiers came practical like everything else about these people

they put me in Keona’s family wiki up not with her exactly I slept in the guest section separated by a deer skin partition close enough to hear her breathe at night close enough to lie awake wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into the men kept their distance can’t blame them I’d worn union blue carried a rifle against their people but the older women watched me with curiosity one of them asked Kiona something that made her laugh first time I’d heard that sound she wants to know if you can cook Kiona translated

some coffee and beans mostly Apache men help their wives cook you’ll need to learn that first week was an education I Learned to move quietly through the wickiups so the support poles wouldn’t creak Learned which plants Keona gathered for medicine and which ones would kill you if you touched them wrong Learned that Apache don’t waste words when silence works better little by little I Learned the way she moved sometimes she’d brush past me and stop half a breath longer than she needed her hands on the grinding stone were quick

sure beautiful without trying and every now and then across the fire she’d look at me like I was a knot she hadn’t decided to untie yet ten days in we were making tortillas she was showing me how to work the dough her hands pressing mine into the right motion her fingers were calloused strong when they touched my skin we both felt it she pulled back went back to her side of the workspace that night I woke to find her watching me from her sleeping mat the fire had burned down to coals barely enough light to see by

our eyes met across that small space and something passed between us not words just recognition she spoke first voice low in the dark do you wanna leave leave where here this life she gestured at the Wikiup walls go back to your people I thought about that thought about towns with laws and churches and women in proper dresses thought about trying to explain where I’d been and what I’d done don’t have people anymore I said lost them a long time ago your wife how’d you know I was married you talk in your sleep sometimes call out names

she paused did you love her the question cut deeper than I expected yes but not enough to save her what does that mean means I was off fighting a war while plague took her and my daughter came home to two graves in a burned out house I stared at the dying fire sometimes love isn’t enough sometimes you’re just not there when it matters Kiona was quiet a long time when she spoke her voice was soft my husband died in my arms soldiers shot him during a raid I held him while he bled watch the light go out she drew a gay breath

for two years I wanted to follow him then those men put me in that trap and I realized I didn’t want to die I wanted to live but I forgot how I looked at her across the darkness maybe we’re both learning maybe something shifted in her expression or maybe we’re just two people who forgot what it felt like to be alive and were stupid enough to try again the way she said it the way she looked at me and I wanted to cross that small space between us wanted to touch her face wanted things I had no right to want instead I said get some sleep morning comes early

she smiled small sad yes it does but neither of us slept much that night they came for the children three women and two little ones down at the spring just after dawn the ginny sorrows hit them fast and quiet had them tied and gone before anyone knew left a message scratched in Spanish on a Flat Rock return the widow or they get sold the younger warriors wanted blood immediately knocky tats counselled patients they had Winchester repeaters good horses a direct assault would cost lives Keona stood up in the circle

this is because of me I’ll go every head turned I spoke before I thought about it no we’ll trade but not with you Nakita’s frowned what do you mean use me instead I’m white they can sell me to mines to ranches I’m worth more than one Apache widow I met his eyes give me a day one day to get those people back if I fail you do it your way Keona grabbed my arm you’ll die maybe but better than watching kids get sold she searched my face why you don’t owe these people anything no but I owe you and you’d die for them so that’s what I’m doing

her grip tightened for a moment I thought she might hit me then she pulled me close whispered fierce in my ear come back you hear me you don’t get to save me just to die like a fool wasn’t planning on it she kissed my forehead hard desperate then let me go I walked into their camp alone hands up unarmed they had sentries but they weren’t expecting someone to surrender the leader was a mestizo with a scar across his throat wearing a stolen cavalry jacket he looked at me like I was a gift from god you’re the one he said in Spanish accented English

the white man protecting the Apache Puta I didn’t answer just stood there while he circled me why you come alone trade me for them he laughed you worth more than one woman and three kids to a mine boss yeah I know surveying metal work can break horses you’ll get 500 for me and Chihuahua more than you’ll get for starved Apache children he considered that greed one same as always okay we make trade but we keep one child insurance no all of them then no deal behind him I saw movement in the rocks shadows Apache warriors waiting for my signal

I gave it dropped flat and rolled left the next minute was chaos rifles firing men screaming I grabbed a pistol from the dirt and came up shooting the mestizo with the scar dropped then another man then I lost count Apache fought different than soldiers no formations no orders just coordinated violence executed with perfect timing within two minutes it was over 14 Jenny Zaros dead 3 captured on our side two warriors killed five wounded and me with a knife wound in my gut that was bleeding harder than I wanted to admit

Keona was there suddenly hands on me eyes wide you fool you absolute fool got them back I managed and got yourself killed doing it not dead yet she dragged me to shade started working on the wound her hands were shaking first time I’d seen her scared she whispered don’t you even think about dying on me wasn’t planning on it I said again smiled despite the pain you’re stuck with me she bent close her forehead touching mine good because I she stopped couldn’t say it didn’t matter I heard it anyway six weeks later dawn ceremony

Nakita stood in the circle sage smoke curling around his hands he’d painted his face worn his medicine man regalia this wasn’t a marriage ceremony it was a covenant Keona stood beside me in traditional dress her leg mostly healed scar still visible she looked like everything I’d lost and everything I’d found all at once the old man spoke in Apache then English two people different blood same path now he bound our wrists with leather cord what the land witnesses no one breaks when the ceremony ended we walked back to our Wikiup our Wikiup now

first time since I cut her out of that trap I felt anything but hollow she stood in the center of the small space firelight catching the edges of her body then she reached up and unfastened her dress let it slip from her shoulders I don’t know how to do this she said quietly with someone who isn’t I crossed to her knelt so we were eye level then we’ll learn like everything else I kissed her shoulder where the dress had fallen felt her shiver ran my hand down her arm felt the strength there she was breathing faster now her eyes dark and wide

I thought I was dead inside I said against her skin thought there was nothing left but you I kissed her neck you make me remember her hands found my face pulled me up to meet her eyes promise me something anything don’t leave no matter what comes don’t leave I kissed her then really kissed her felt her melt against me felt her arms go around my neck felt heat rising between us that had nothing to do with the fire we sank down together onto the sleeping furs her body fitting against mine like it was always meant to be there

her breath hot against my ear my hands learning the shape of her her fingers digging into my shoulders what came after belongs to her and me alone morning came soft through the wicket up walls I woke to the smell of cornbread cooking Keona already up moving around our space with quiet efficiency she saw me watching didn’t smile but something had changed in her eyes the wall was gone you talk in your sleep she said what did I say nothing bad just my name she brought me food that’s new for you I took the bread caught her hand held it yeah it is

we sat there in the morning light two people who’d survived more than most and somehow found each other in the wreckage outside I could hear the rancheria waking up children playing women talking men preparing for the day normal sounds life continuing but I knew better knew the cavalry would come eventually knew the Janissaries would regroup and try again knew this land didn’t forgive and didn’t forget still for the first time in four years that night I didn’t dream of those Missouri graves didn’t wake up praying a bullet had found me years ago

for once I didn’t feel like a dead man still walking people ask me sometimes if I regret it regret saving her that day regret staying when I could have run regret trading my old life for this one I don’t know how to answer that but last night when she fell asleep in my arms her breath warm against my chest her hand resting over my heart I realized something ain’t redemption sure as hell ain’t forgiveness just too busted up folks too stubborn to finish dying more than a man like me’s got any right to don’t care I’m holding on till they pry it out of my cold hands

they’ll come again the soldiers or the slavers or someone worse this land doesn’t let you rest but now I’ve got something worth fighting for not for glory not for country just for the woman sleeping beside me she stared death in the face and still picked me go figure hell it’s enough for me that’s the whole damn thing ain’t a pretty tale ain’t a Sunday sermon it’s just what happened if you’ve got stories of your own ones you carry in the dark I’d like to hear them leave a comment tell me where you’re watching from

tell me if you’ve ever saved someone who ended up saving you back and if this story meant something to you well I’d appreciate you sharing it letting others know we’re all just drifters looking for something real in this world until next time keep your powder dry and your heart open that’s all a man can do