Something about the entire arrangement felt wrong.
Not simply the marriage.
The urgency.
The chief's anger.
The way the men nearby watched the eastern ridge.
The presence of armed scouts beyond the grazing horses.
These were not the preparations of a family concerned only with finding a husband for an unmarried daughter.
Something else was happening.
Something dangerous.
Elias slowly replaced his hat.
"I'll stay three days."
The chief studied him.
"And?"
"I'll speak to your daughter if she wishes. I'll learn what I can about this land. And if she chooses me, we'll discuss the future."
A murmur passed through the gathering.
Iron Elk's expression remained stern.
Finally, he nodded.
"Three days."
Elias looked toward the veiled woman again.
She had not moved.
The chief continued.
"At sundown on the third day, you give your answer."
Elias nodded.
"Fair enough."
But as he turned away, Iron Elk spoke once more.
"One warning, cowboy."
Elias stopped.
The chief's voice was quiet.
"Do not mistake what you see for everything that is true."
Elias looked back.
The older man's face revealed nothing.
Then he walked toward the river, leaving the young stranger with far more questions than answers.
That night, Elias sat beside a small fire near the edge of camp.
He had been given a place to sleep and enough food for supper.
No one mistreated him.
But the community remained understandably cautious.
He was a stranger.
A white cowboy who had arrived asking for land already used and cared for by families whose lives depended upon it.
He knew enough about frontier settlements to understand that asking politely did not erase the history of men who came with money, survey stakes, and eventually armed demands.
He had spent years hearing settlers describe land as empty when people already lived there.
He had seen maps that marked rivers and mountains but omitted the communities whose names for those places were older than the maps themselves.
That knowledge was part of why he had approached Iron Elk rather than simply building a cabin beside the river.
He wanted a place that could legally and morally belong to him.
Not something obtained because he carried a gun and someone else lacked the power to stop him.
He was examining his father's watch when someone approached.
Elias looked up.
A young Apache woman stood several feet away.
Her face was hidden beneath a light-colored veil.
A long beaded dress hung from her slender figure, and a blue ribbon had been tied around one wrist.
He recognized her immediately.
The chief's daughter.
Elias stood.
"Evening."
She did not answer.
He removed his hat.
"My name's Elias."
A faint voice came from beneath the veil.
"I know."
He waited.
Then said, "I suppose you heard what your father told me."
"Everyone heard."
Elias winced.
"That wasn't my doing."
"I know."
The woman looked toward the fire.
Then at his horse.
"You came for the river."
"Yes."