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POOR COWBOY SAVED A 22-YEAR-OLD APACHE GIRL — THEN THE WHOLE TOWN TURNED AGAINST HIM

Chapter 15

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"Jake," the sheriff said softly.Jake rested his hand casually on the saddle horn. "Sheriff."Henderson stepped forward, his hands shaking slightly as he held out the heavy paper sack toward Jake. "Jake... I... well, the folks in town put this together for you. It’s... it’s twenty pounds of flour, five pounds of dark coffee, a fresh side of bacon, and three tins of peaches."Jake looked at the brown paper bag, then up at Henderson’s ashamed face."What’s this for, Henderson?" Jake asked flatly.Henderson swallowed hard, unable to meet Jake’s direct gaze. "For... for standing between us and those rifles yesterday, Jake. We all know... if you hadn't taken care of that girl... if you hadn't earned that chief's respect... half this town would be ashes this morning. We were wrong, Jake. Terrible wrong."Jake looked past Henderson at Briggs, who was still standing near the boardwalk steps, staring intently at the dirt between his boots."You got something to say, Briggs?" Jake asked, his voice even and cold.Briggs took a slow, agonizing breath. He lifted his head, his small eyes red and bloodshot, stripped of all his loud, foolish bravado."I’m... I’m sorry about your boots, Turner," Briggs muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "And... and I’ll send two of my boys out to your place tomorrow to help you finish mending that south fence line. Free of charge."It was as close to an apology as a man like Briggs would ever come in his life. It was small, crude, and incomplete—but it was real.Jake stood motionless in the morning sun for a long time. He looked down at the silver-and-turquoise pendant hanging from his watch chain, feeling the smooth, cold weight of the stone against his fingers.He thought of Naelli, riding high and free in the Dragoon Mountains with her people. He thought of her clear, ringing laugh echoing through the cottonwood trees on a warm afternoon. He thought of the word she had given him—A-ho-te—the man who sees with his heart, not his eyes.Slowly, Jake reached out and took the heavy paper sack of supplies from Henderson’s hands."Thanks, Henderson," Jake said quietly. "I can use the coffee."A collective, quiet sigh of relief seemed to pass through the three men—and through the hidden faces watching from behind windows up and down the street. The heavy, dark cloud that had hovered over Silver Creek for seven days was finally beginning to break.Jake swung his leg up over his bay horse, settling deep into the worn leather saddle. He gathered his leather reins, adjusted his hat against the rising sun, and looked down at the men standing in the road."If anybody needs me," Jake said, turning his horse toward the open southern road, "I’ll be out at my place. I’ve got fence to mend."He touched his boots to the horse's flanks, and the heavy bay gelding broke into a smooth, easy trot, kicking up small, golden clouds of dust that hovered in the warm morning air.As Jake Turner rode out of Silver Creek, heading home toward his seventy acres under the wide blue Arizona sky, he didn't look back once.

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POOR COWBOY SAVED A 22-YEAR-OLD APACHE GIRL — THEN THE WHOLE TOWN TURNED AGAINST HIM

15 Part