PART 2 — THE SECRET BEHIND THE BLANKET

The blanket slipped from Nahimana’s face.

Ethan forgot to breathe.

She was not what he had expected.

Her dark hair fell in two long braids over her shoulders, decorated with small turquoise beads. Her eyes were deep brown, almost black, and her features were strikingly beautiful.

But it wasn’t her beauty that held his attention.

It was the long, pale scar running from beneath her left ear toward her jaw.

And the way every person around her seemed afraid to look at it.

Nahimana lowered her eyes.

Ethan glanced at the warriors.

Some stared at the ground. Others watched him with expressions that mixed pity and curiosity.

He finally understood that the secret wasn’t simply her appearance.

There was a story behind that scar.

A terrible one.

Chaska stepped forward.

“Now you have seen her.”

Ethan nodded slowly.

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you still agree?”

Before Ethan could answer, Nahimana spoke.

“Wait.”

Her voice was soft but firm.

She turned toward her father.

“Let him leave.”

Chaska frowned.

“What?”

“He has not agreed to anything after seeing me. Let him return to his ranch.”

A murmur moved through the gathering.

Ethan looked at her.

For the first time, he noticed something unexpected.

She wasn’t pleading.

She wasn’t angry.

She simply seemed exhausted by the possibility of being rejected again.

Chaska’s expression hardened.

“You have waited long enough, daughter.”

Nahimana lowered her head.

“I know.”

Ethan removed his hat.

“May I ask her something?”

The chief studied him before nodding.

Ethan turned toward Nahimana.

“Would you like to marry me?”

Her eyes widened.

Nobody had asked her that question before.

Not in that way.

Not as though her answer mattered.

She looked at him for several seconds.

Then she asked quietly:

“Have you ever regretted saving someone?”

Ethan frowned.

“No.”

“Even when it cost you something?”

He thought about the little girl in the canyon.

Then he looked back at Nahimana.

“Especially then.”

She studied his face.

For a moment, something changed in her expression.

But before she could answer, an older warrior stepped forward.

“Chief, this is a mistake.”

Chaska turned.

“Sit down, Taza.”

The warrior ignored him.

“This stranger knows nothing about her.”

Ethan remained quiet.

Taza pointed toward Nahimana.

“Ask him whether he would still marry her if he knew what happened five years ago.”

The gathering became completely silent.

Nahimana closed her eyes.

“Please don’t.”

But Taza continued.

“Ask him why no warrior has ever offered to stand beside her.”

Ethan turned toward the older man.

“Then tell me.”

Taza’s face тιԍнтened.

“Five years ago, a fire destroyed the winter shelter near the eastern ridge. Nahimana was inside with three younger children.”

Ethan listened.

“She carried two children outside. Then she went back for the third.”

The warrior paused.

“The roof collapsed before she could escape.”

Ethan glanced at the scar.

“She was burned?”

Taza nodded.

“She survived. But the third child did not.”

Nahimana’s face turned pale.

Taza continued.

“Some people said she should never have returned. Others said she had been careless. And when the child died, his family blamed her.”

Ethan looked around.

“She was trying to save him.”

“That is what she says.”

Nahimana finally raised her head.

“I don’t need to defend myself to him.”

Her voice trembled.

“But I will not let you change what happened.”

She looked directly at Taza.

“I heard him crying. I went back because I promised his mother I would bring him home.”

Taza looked away.

The silence that followed was heavier than any accusation.

Ethan slowly turned toward Nahimana.

“What’s the child’s name?”

“Little Mateo.”

“Did his mother blame you?”

Nahimana hesitated.

“No.”

“Then why do these men?”

Nobody answered.

Ethan looked at the gathered warriors.

“Where I come from, a person who risks everything to save a child is called brave.”

Taza’s jaw тιԍнтened.

“You are a stranger. You don’t understand our ways.”

“Perhaps not. But I understand the difference between courage and cowardice.”

A few warriors exchanged uncomfortable glances.

Chaska raised his hand.

“Enough.”

Then he looked at Ethan.

“You have heard the truth. You may still refuse.”

Ethan turned toward Nahimana.

She was waiting for him to look away.

Instead, he held out his hand.

“I would like to know you before deciding what kind of husband I can be.”

Nahimana stared at his hand.

“Why?”

“Because a scar doesn’t tell me who you are.”

For the first time, she smiled.

It was brief and almost invisible.

But Ethan saw it.

And that was the moment he realized he wanted to hear her laugh.

Not because he owed her father anything.

Not because of the canyon.

But because there was a woman standing before him whom nobody had bothered to understand.

Chaska watched them carefully.

Then he nodded.

“The ceremony will take place tomorrow, if you both agree.”

Ethan looked at Nahimana.

“Tomorrow?”

She nodded.

But something in her eyes troubled him.

It wasn’t fear of marriage.

It was fear of what would happen afterward.

That evening, Ethan was given a small guest shelter near the edge of the settlement.

He had barely settled down when someone knocked.

It was the elderly woman who had tried to stop Chaska from removing Nahimana’s blanket.

“My name is Sani,” she introduced herself.

Ethan stood respectfully.

“Good evening.”

She entered and sat near the doorway.

“You must understand something about Nahimana.”

Ethan nodded.

“I’m listening.”

Sani looked toward the dark mountains.

“She has spent five years believing that one mistake made her unworthy of happiness.”

“She didn’t make a mistake. She tried to save a child.”

“That is not what everyone believes.”

Sani reached into her shawl and produced a small leather pouch.

“She keeps this hidden. It belonged to Mateo.”

Ethan opened it.

Inside was a tiny wooden horse, worn smooth from years of handling.

“She carved it for him,” Sani explained. “She was going to give it to him after the winter festival.”

Ethan closed the pouch.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because tomorrow, when you stand beside her, you must understand that you are not marrying a broken woman.”

Sani looked directly at him.

“You are meeting someone who has been strong for too long.”

She rose to leave.

At the entrance, she stopped.

“And there is something else. The warriors didn’t all refuse her because of the scar.”

Ethan looked up.

“What do you mean?”

Sani hesitated.

“Someone has been telling them that whoever marries Nahimana will inherit a terrible curse.”

Ethan frowned.

“A curse?”

Sani nodded.

“Five years ago, the night of the fire, something disappeared from the chief’s lodge.”

“What?”

“The tribe’s sacred land agreement. A document that protects the eastern valley.”

Ethan leaned forward.

“And you think Nahimana knows where it is?”

Sani shook her head.

“I think someone wants everyone to believe she does.”

Before Ethan could ask another question, Sani stepped outside.

“Be careful, young rancher. The man who fears this marriage most may not be the man you expect.”

Ethan remained awake long after she left.

He had come into Apache territory looking for a shortcut home.

Now he was about to marry a woman whose past was tied to a mystery involving a missing document, a ᴅᴇᴀᴅ child, and a secret someone was desperate to keep buried.

And he was beginning to suspect that the scar on Nahimana’s face was the smallest part of her story.