Chato narrowed his eyes. "If you claim her as your woman, you must prove you are worthy of our blood. You must pay the price of honor. If you refuse, I take her." Elias didn't hesitate. "Name your price." "Your horses," Chato said, pointing to the corral where Elias kept his six prized Appaloosas—the most valuable assets he owned, vital for running the ranch. "All of them."
The Appaloosas were worth a small fortune. Without them, rounding up the cattle before winter would be nearly impossible. It would set the ranch back years. Elias looked at the horses, then at Nita. She had tears in her eyes, silently pleading with him not to give up his livelihood.
Elias walked over to the corral, opened the gate, and led the beautiful, spotted horses out one by one. He handed the lead ropes to Chato's men. "Take them," Elias said. "They are nothing compared to her." Chato watched the white man carefully. In Apache culture, such a massive sacrifice of wealth was the ultimate sign of respect and devotion. The anger in the warrior's face softened. He nodded slowly, recognizing Elias not as an enemy, but as a brother. Before they rode away, Chato performed a brief, solemn blessing in the dirt, effectively recognizing their union under Apache custom.
The peace was short-lived. A month later, Deputy Miller returned, this time accompanied by Sheriff Holden and two men in suits from the territorial capital. Holden held a piece of parchment. "Elias Thorne, by order of the Territorial Governor, it is illegal for a Native American to reside on deeded white property unless they are a legal ward or a lawful spouse. You've got an Apache woman living here out of wedlock. We have orders to remove her to the San Carlos reservation."
Elias felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. "She is my wife. We were married by her brother, under her customs." The suited men laughed. "Heathen customs don't hold up in a U.S. court, son," one of them sneered. "You have three days to vacate her, or we return with the cavalry and take her by force." They rode off, leaving a cloud of dust and despair in their wake. Nita stood on the porch, her face stoic, but her hands trembling.
They had three days. Elias wasn't going to wait. The next morning, he hitched his draft horse to the wagon, dressed in his finest suit, and had Nita wear a beautiful dress she had sewn from traded cotton. They drove straight into Oakhaven, pulling up to the courthouse.