He turned to Whitehawk.
“Who knows where this village is?”
Whitehawk’s expression changed almost imperceptibly.
“Too many people.”
That answer disturbed Ethan more than he expected.
Ayana spoke quietly.
“Three weeks ago, riders appeared on the southern ridge.”
“Who?”
“We do not know.”
“They come close?”
“Not close enough.”
“How many?”
“Four.”
Ethan frowned.
“Army?”
“No.”
“Ranchers?”
“No brands we recognized.”
Whitehawk approached them.
“Two nights later, someone placed stakes near the eastern spring.”
“What kind of stakes?”
“Survey stakes.”
That changed everything.
Ethan unfolded the map again.
Arizona Territory was full of men looking for land.
Cattlemen.
Mining companies.
Speculators.
Railroad interests.
A spring in the wrong place could become more valuable than gold.
“Does anybody else know about your water?”
Whitehawk looked toward the darkening cliffs.
“Anyone who has watched long enough.”
Ayana folded her arms.
“You should stay tonight.”
Ethan glanced at her.
“Because of the map?”
“Because someone wanted you here.”
He gave a humorless smile.
“That makes two people.”
A faint smile touched her mouth.
“My reason was better.”
Despite everything, Ethan nearly laughed.
Then Whitehawk spoke.
“My daughter chose you before she knew whose horse you rode.”
Ethan looked at him sharply.
“You didn’t know?”
Ayana shook her head.
“The horse was brought in from the north while the gathering was happening. I had not looked at the brand.”
That eliminated one troubling possibility.
She had not selected him because of the map.
She truly had chosen a dusty stranger who had wandered accidentally into one of the most important days of her life.
Ethan still had no idea what to do with that.
But he knew what to do with danger.
“Show me the pass.”
Whitehawk studied him.
“It will be dark.”
“That might be when whoever made this map expects to move.”
Ayana immediately stepped forward.
“I am coming.”
Whitehawk’s eyes shifted toward her.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Father.”
The chief’s expression remained firm.
Ayana pointed at Ethan.
“You allowed me to choose him.”
Ethan blinked.
Whitehawk glanced at him.
For the first time all day, the chief looked almost amused.
“That decision is beginning to cause me trouble.”
Ethan cleared his throat.
“With respect, sir, I don’t believe I agreed to anything.”
Ayana turned.
“You agreed to honesty.”
“I did?”
“When you said you would not marry me because you did not know me.”
“That was declining marriage.”
“That was honesty.”
Whitehawk sighed quietly.
Ethan realized with some horror that the chief was enjoying this.
Then Whitehawk became serious.
“Take six men.”
Ayana nodded.
Ethan stared between them.
“Does anybody around here ever ask what I think?”
Ayana picked up a rifle.
“You may think while riding.”
The canyon became silver beneath the moon.
Ethan rode beside Ayana while six warriors moved silently around them, appearing and disappearing among rocks with such ease that he repeatedly forgot they were there.
For several miles, nobody spoke.
Finally Ethan said, “You really rejected a hundred men?”
“One hundred and seven.”
“You counted?”
“They did.”
“Why?”
Ayana looked at him.
“Why did I count?”
“Why did you reject them?”
“You heard my answer.”
“I heard the polite answer.”
Her eyebrow lifted.
