The revelation hit Caleb harder than the bullet had.
The chief had not recognized him because of records.
Or rumors.
Or Vale.
Takakota had been looking for Caleb Morrison for eleven years.
Not to kill him.
Not to punish him.
To return a compass.
And to tell him that at least some of the people he believed he had failed had survived because of him.
Caleb saddled Rust the next morning.
The entire camp seemed determined not to notice.
Nantan limped over.
“You go?”
Caleb nodded.
Nantan frowned.
“Stupid.”
Caleb laughed.
“That word is getting old.”
“Still true.”
They clasped forearms.
Takakota watched from a distance.
Caleb mounted.
Then Aayita appeared.
She carried no weapon except the knife at her belt.
No expression betrayed what she was thinking.
Caleb looked down at her.
“Well.”
“Well.”
“I suppose your father’s debt is settled.”
“It never existed.”
“I know that now.”
“You believed it for a surprisingly long time.”
“Your father is convincing.”
Aayita almost smiled.
Caleb looked toward the open pass.
Then back at her.
“I’m heading north.”
“I know.”
“Maybe Wyoming.”
“Cold.”
“That is generally how north works.”
Now she did smile.
Caleb tightened his grip on the reins.
There were things he wanted to say.
None sounded right.
Thank you was too small.
Goodbye sounded too final.
I love you felt impossible after weeks of arguments, danger, blood, revelations, and silence.
So he settled for the truth.
“I don’t want to leave.”
Aayita’s smile disappeared.
Caleb continued.
“But I won’t stay because your father declared something beside a fire.”
She watched him carefully.
“I won’t stay because I saved Nantan.”
Silence.
“And I won’t ask you to belong to me because nobody should belong to anybody.”
Aayita stepped closer.
“What would make you stay?”
Caleb looked at her.
“You asking.”
For several seconds the entire camp seemed to stop breathing.
Aayita reached up.
Caleb thought she might touch his hand.
Instead she slapped Rust lightly on the neck.
The horse started forward.
Caleb nearly fell from the saddle.
Behind him, Nantan burst out laughing.
Caleb turned.
“Aayita?”
She folded her arms.
“You said you wanted me to ask.”
“Yes.”
“I have not decided.”
Caleb stared.
“You could have mentioned that before starting my horse.”
“Go to the pass.”
“What?”
“Go.”
Caleb muttered something deeply unflattering about chiefs and their daughters.
He rode toward the northern edge of camp.
He had almost reached the trees when hoofbeats sounded behind him.
Caleb turned.
Aayita was riding toward him.
Fast.
Her hair streamed behind her.
A rolled blanket and travel bag were tied behind her saddle.
Caleb’s heart stopped.
She pulled alongside him.
He stared at the supplies.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
“With me?”
“No.”
His hope collapsed so quickly she laughed.
“I am traveling north,” she said.
Caleb narrowed his eyes.
“Toward Wyoming?”
“Perhaps.”
“On the same trail?”
“Possibly.”
“For how long?”
She looked ahead.
“Until I decide whether you are tolerable.”
“That could take years.”
“Yes.”
Caleb began smiling.
Then he noticed Takakota standing at the edge of camp.
The chief raised one hand.
Caleb returned the gesture.
But before they rode away, Takakota called his daughter’s name.
