Even when he slept in barns, deserted sheds, and the open country.
He never sold the watch.
It was broken.
It was nearly useless.
But it was his.
Now, standing before an Apache chief in a valley he had never seen, Elias felt its familiar weight against his chest.
He had no idea that the object would soon matter more than all the money in his pockets.
Chief Iron Elk stood facing him with a stern expression.
He was an older Apache man with weathered bronze skin, long dark hair streaked with silver, and eyes that seemed capable of measuring a stranger's intentions before the stranger opened his mouth.
He wore a fringed buckskin shirt, carefully worked bead ornaments, and a broad leather belt. His clothing bore the marks of long use rather than extravagant display. His authority came less from decoration than from the way the people around him listened when he spoke.
Elias removed his hat.
"I came about the river parcel."
The chief did not smile.
"I know why you came."
"I can pay a fair price."
"The land is not for sale."
Elias swallowed.
He had ridden six days to reach this place.
Six days under a brutal sun.
Six nights sleeping beside a small fire.
He had crossed dry washes, climbed narrow ridges, and followed directions given by a storekeeper who seemed almost amused by his determination.
Now the dream that carried him west was disappearing before he could even explain it.
"Then perhaps we could arrange a lease," Elias suggested.
Iron Elk studied him.
"A lease?"
"Enough ground to build a cabin, grow vegetables, and keep a few horses."
The chief looked toward the river.
"Why this valley?"
Elias hesitated.
"There's water."
"There is water elsewhere."
"Not water like that."
The chief remained silent.
Elias continued.
"I've crossed enough dry country to know what a good river means."
Iron Elk looked back at him.
"And why should my people give any of that water to you?"
It was a fair question.
Elias had no satisfactory answer.
He could offer money.
Labor.
Promises.
But he could not claim to deserve land simply because he wanted it.
After a moment, he said, "Perhaps you shouldn't."
Several men nearby exchanged glances.
The chief's expression changed slightly.
Elias continued.
"I came to ask. Not to take."
Iron Elk studied him for another long moment.
Then he spoke.
"There may be another arrangement."
Elias felt hope return.
"What arrangement?"
The chief looked toward the circle of family shelters.
"You will marry my daughter."
Elias stared.
For a moment, he thought he misunderstood.
"Your daughter?"
"Yes."
"I came here to discuss land."
"And I am discussing family."
Elias looked around.
Several men watched him carefully.
A woman standing beside a nearby shelter lowered her eyes.
The atmosphere had shifted.
He was no longer merely a stranger negotiating over property.
He had entered a conflict that existed long before his arrival.