He grimaced.
“That sounds like a very low standard.”
“Sometimes people begin low.”
He laughed.
Two days later they rode toward Mesa Hollow to file the grievance.
Side by side.
The rancher wore his good coat because the Apache woman told him appearance mattered at the land office.
He hated that.
She said:
“You want them to hear your name.”
“Make them see a man they cannot dismiss before he speaks.”
The rancher looked toward her.
“That sounds like their problem.”
“It becomes ours when their problem changes whether the paper survives.”
He wore the coat.
The town noticed them before they reached the hitching rail.
White rancher.
Apache woman.
Riding together.
People stared.
One shopkeeper stopped sweeping.
Two men outside the saloon spoke quietly.
The Apache woman noticed.
The rancher noticed her noticing.
He asked:
“You all right?”
“Yes.”
“Sure?”
She looked toward him.
“Do not make me smaller because they are staring.”
He absorbed that.
Then nodded.
They entered the land office.
The clerk looked at the Apache woman first.
Then the rancher.
His expression revealed too much.
“What is this?”
The rancher placed the grievance on the desk.
“A filing.”
The clerk looked toward the signatures.
Several Apache names.
Then the rancher’s.
His eyes changed.
“You signed this?”
“Yes.”
“You understand what it says?”
The rancher smiled without humor.
“I usually read things before I sign them.”
The clerk looked irritated.
The Apache woman remained silent.
The rancher understood why.
If she argued, the clerk could dismiss her as personally interested.
If he spoke, the same words suddenly acquired legitimacy.
The injustice of that burned inside him.
He leaned forward.
“You will file it.”
The clerk looked toward him.
“The office can review—”
“You can review after recording receipt.”
The clerk stared.
The rancher had spent the previous evening studying procedure.
Because the Apache woman made him.
The clerk could not legally refuse initial receipt without written cause.
He knew it.
The rancher knew it.
The clerk finally reached for the stamp.
The sound when it hit paper was small.
But the Apache woman’s shoulders loosened slightly.
The rancher saw.