“Then why was my family name written on territorial records concerning this valley?”
For the first time, something flickered in the chief’s eyes.
Gone immediately.
“You ask many questions.”
“I rode three days through hell following that map.
I think I earned one answer.”
Several warriors nearby shifted.
Maverick saw it.
So did Lobo Negro.
The chief raised one hand, and the men relaxed.
Then he said quietly, “There is one way you may remain.”
Maverick leaned forward.
“What way?”
Lobo Negro looked directly into his eyes.
“Marry my daughter.”
Maverick stared.
A bird called somewhere above them.
For one absurd second, Maverick wondered whether the heat had finally cooked his brain.
“I’m sorry?”
“Marry my daughter, and you become family.
Become family, and you may remain in the valley.”
Maverick laughed once.
Nobody else did.
His laugh died.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“I came here to buy land.”
“I know.”
“Not a wife.”
“I know that also.”
Maverick stood and paced once beneath the cottonwoods.
Beyond the camp, sunlight flashed across the river.
Everything he had ever wanted lay less than half a mile away.
And apparently there was a woman standing between him and it.
He turned.
“May I meet her?”
“No.”
Maverick blinked.
“You want me to marry a woman I can’t even meet?”
“She does not show herself to unfamiliar men.”
“Why?”
The chief’s mouth tightened.
Maverick waited.
Finally Lobo Negro spoke.
“Because she is ugly.”
The words changed the air.
An old woman weaving nearby lowered her eyes.
A warrior suddenly became interested in the earth beneath his boots.
Someone farther away turned his back.
Maverick noticed every reaction.
The chief continued.
“The ugliest woman in our camp.”
Maverick frowned.
“No man wants her.”
Something about the sentence disturbed him.
Not the idea that the woman might be unattractive.
The cruelty of saying it here disturbed him.
Publicly.
As though a human life could be reduced to a face.
Maverick slowly picked up his hat.
“With respect, Chief, that doesn’t seem like much of a way to speak about your daughter.”
Several heads lifted.
Lobo Negro’s gaze sharpened.
“You disagree?”
“I haven’t seen her.”
“She is scarred.”
Maverick said nothing.
“Badly.”
Still Maverick waited.
“One eye does not look like the other.
Part of her face was burned when she was young.”
The explanation should have settled something.
Instead it made Maverick angrier.
“And that makes her worth less?”
A faint murmur moved through the listeners.
Lobo Negro leaned back.
“No.”
“Then why tell me she’s ugly?”
“Because I wanted to know what you would do after hearing it.”
Maverick froze.
The chief’s stare never wavered.
“Now I know.”
Maverick looked around the camp.
The lowered eyes suddenly made sense.
They had not been agreeing with Lobo Negro.
They had been waiting.
Watching him.
Testing him.
“You set me up.”
“I gave you information.”
“You insulted your own daughter to see whether I’d run.”
“To see whether you believed a woman could be reduced to the arrangement of her face.”
Maverick exhaled sharply.
“And?”
“And you became angry.”
Lobo Negro almost smiled.
“Interesting.”
Maverick dropped back onto the blanket.
“This is the strangest negotiation I’ve ever had.”
“Then you have lived a fortunate life.”
Despite himself, Maverick laughed.
This time the chief almost joined him.
Then Lobo Negro’s expression changed.
“My daughter has been judged by strangers before.
Some pitied her.
Some mocked her.
Others pretended kindness while looking toward the land behind her.”
His voice became quieter.
