"THE APACHE CHIEF GAVE MAVERICK TWO CHOICESâMARRY THE DAUGHTER NO MAN WANTED OR WALK AWAY FROM THE RICHEST LAND HE HAD EVER SEENMaverick Cole had endured three scorching days beneath the Arizona sun for one reason: land. He wanted a place of his own badly enough to cross miles of burning desert, sleep beneath the open sky, and ride until his horse was almost as worn out as he was.But when he finally reached the green valley he had been searching for, Chief Lobo Negro named a price Maverick never could have expected.The chief spoke calmly. âMarry my daughter, or leave this valley forever.âFor several seconds, Maverick could only stare at him. He nearly laughed, but then he glanced beyond the Apache camp and realized the chief was entirely serious.A clear river curved through rich, dark earth. Tall grass moved gently along its banks, cottonwoods provided shade beside the water, and even beneath the relentless summer heat, the valley stayed green.Cattle could flourish here. Crops could grow, and a man could build a cabin, raise a family, and finally stop drifting from place to place.It was everything Maverick had spent the last five years searching for. No more bunkhouses, no more fixing fences for someone elseâs ranch, and no more working season after season to make another man wealthy while his own name belonged to nothing.Maverick chose his words carefully. âI came here to buy land. Not to find a wife.âLobo Negro did not smile. âThe land is not sold to strangers.âHe pointed toward the river. âBecome family, and it can be yours.âAround them, the nearby conversations slowly faded. The entire camp seemed to be listening.Maverick slowly took off his hat. âThen let me meet your daughter.âLobo Negro answered immediately. âNo.âMaverick frowned. âWhy not?âThe chiefâs expression remained still. âShe does not show her face to strangers.âMaverick studied him. âWhy?âSomething shifted in the chiefâs face. His eyes became harder.Lobo Negro answered. âBecause she is unattractive.âThe words settled heavily over the camp. One warrior dropped his gaze, while an older woman suddenly focused intently on the beadwork in her hands. Someone beside a nearby shelter quietly turned away.Lobo Negro continued without emotion. âThe least beautiful woman in the tribe. No man wants her.âMaverick looked around the camp. Their reactions unsettled him more than the chiefâs words themselves.This did not sound like an ordinary description. It sounded like a judgment repeated so many times that everyone had eventually accepted it as truth.Maverick kept his voice respectful. âI didnât ride all this way looking for marriage.âLobo Negro replied simply. âThen leave.âBehind the chief, three warriors shifted slightly. Their weapons remained lowered, but the meaning was still unmistakable.There would be no bargaining.Maverickâs gaze fell toward several documents resting near Lobo Negroâs feet. A territorial map lay beside a trade ledger, while a folded agency claim was secured with a decorated cord.His own name appeared among the papers. The offer was real, and so was the land.Maverick finally asked. âWhy me?âFor the first time, Lobo Negroâs expression softened. âMy daughter deserves a chance.âHe looked toward the shelters behind them. âShe has spent years hidden. Judged. Rejected by men who never tried to know her.âThen the chief looked back at Maverick. âYou entered our camp without hatred. Without fear. You spoke honestly.âMaverick said nothing. Somewhere behind those shelters stood a woman whose own father had just described her as unwanted in front of everyone she knew.He thought about his own five years of wanderingâempty roads, borrowed beds, temporary work. He remembered cold nights beneath the stars while imagining a cabin with smoke rising from its chimney and a piece of earth no one could ever order him to leave.Before he had time to reconsider, Maverick heard himself speak. âWhen is the ceremony?âA murmur passed through the camp. Lobo Negro watched him carefully.The chief answered. âThree days.âMaverick took a slow breath. âThen I accept.âThree evenings later, the setting sun turned the river into molten gold. The entire camp gathered along the bank while Maverick stood in his cleanest shirt, gripping his hat tightly against his chest.Then the crowd separated.A woman walked forward. A long white veil covered her face, decorated with tiny blue beads that shimmered beneath the fading sunlight.Her hands were clasped together in front of her. Maverick noticed one thumb pressing nervously against the other.She was afraid. Perhaps she was even more frightened than he was.A woman nearby whispered. âAyasha.âMaverick repeated the name silently.Ayasha.Not the unattractive daughter. Not the price attached to the land.Not the woman no man wanted.Ayasha.She stopped directly in front of him. Chief Lobo Negro stepped between them.The chief warned him. âOnce her veil is lifted, there is no turning back.âMaverick looked down at Ayashaâs trembling hands. âAre you ready?âSeveral long seconds passed before she finally nodded. Silence settled completely over the riverbank.A breeze moved through the white fabric. The tiny blue beads trembled softly.Slowly, the veil began to lift.First, Maverick saw her chin. Then her lips, followed by the gentle curve of her cheeks.Higher.Higher.Until her entire face was finally revealed.Maverick went completely still. His eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat.But not because he wanted to run.Not because Chief Lobo Negro had been right.Because in that stunned moment, Maverick realized the chief had not told him the whole truth about Ayasha.The water held him the way it always did on Saturdays, and for one
suspended hour Tom Beckett belonged to nobody.
He floated on his back in the middle of the pool, arms spread, ears just below
the surface so that the neighborhood came to him muffled and far away â
the tick of a sprinkler three yards over, somebody's mower grinding through