Chapter 9 - A Promise Made Without Love
For the first month after Aayoka left, Elias saw her twice a week.
Then once.
Then sometimes ten days passed.
He told himself that was good.
She was building her own life.
That was what he wanted for her.
At least, that was what he claimed.
Aayoka repaired her father’s adobe house.
She hired workers.
She negotiated grazing agreements.
She became known throughout the valley as a careful landowner who could not easily be cheated.
Elias was proud of her.
He was also miserable.
One evening Thomas visited Ward Ranch.
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
“You miss her.”
Elias glared.
Thomas drank his coffee.
“You know, for a quiet man, you’re very obvious.”
“She has her life.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
Thomas laughed.
“Coward.”
Elias stood.
“Careful.”
“You faced Boone with a rifle but can’t tell a woman you love her.”
The word stopped him.
Love.
Elias had avoided it.
Care.
Respect.
Concern.
Anything except love.
Thomas set down his cup.
“You think loving her means trapping her?”
Elias said nothing.
“It doesn’t.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same?”
“Then you survive.”
Elias looked toward the window.
He had survived Samuel.
He had survived seven years alone.
But suddenly rejection seemed more frightening than bullets.
Three days later, Aayoka arrived unexpectedly.
She carried a basket.
“What’s that?”
“Food.”
“Should I be worried?”
“My cooking improved.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
She laughed.
They ate together.
Afterward she walked through the cabin.
Nothing had changed.
Her old cup remained on the shelf.
She touched it.
“You kept this.”
“It’s a cup.”
“Yes.”
“I keep cups.”
She smiled.
Outside, sunset painted the hills red.
Aayoka sat on the porch.
“Do you remember when I asked you to marry me?”
“Hard to forget.”
“You said marriage could wait.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“I am not asking now.”
His heart sank.
Then she continued.
“I am telling you that I finally understand why you refused.”
Elias sat beside her.
“You were afraid.”
“Yes.”
“You needed safety.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“I have safety.”
She smiled faintly.
“I built it.”
Elias nodded.
“You did.”
Aayoka looked toward the horizon.
“So if I ever ask again, it will mean something different.”
Elias could barely breathe.
She stood.
“Good night, Elias.”
“Aayoka.”
She turned.
He almost said it.
I love you.
Instead—
“Ride carefully.”
She smiled as though she knew exactly what he had failed to say.
“I always do.”
She rode away.
Elias watched until she disappeared.
Then he cursed himself.
From inside the cabin, Thomas—who Elias had forgotten was staying in the back room—called:
“Coward.”
May you like
Elias threw his hat at the door.
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