She was alone at the wedding banquet until a Viking giant said, “Act like you’re…”
The Redhead and the Viking: Legend of Rio Seco
In the dusty town of Rio Seco, under the relentless sun of the New Mexico desert, the wedding of the wealthiest rancher’s daughter was the event of the year.
But for Elena, sitting alone in a corner of the long banquet table, it was just another night of shadows and bitter memories.
Suddenly, a gunshot echoed through the living room, shattering windows and sending the guests into a panic. A bloodied man fell dead to the floor.
Elena, petrified, felt her heart pound like a war drum. Little did she know that this was only the beginning of a nightmare that would drag her into the abyss.
Elena had arrived in town barely a month before, fleeing a past that haunted her like a hungry coyote. A young widow, with hair as red as the sunset and eyes that held deep secrets.
Her husband, a drunken miner, had died in a cave-in, or so the rumors said. But Elena knew the truth: she had killed him in self-defense when he raised his fist for the last time.
Now, in Río Seco, he was looking for a new beginning. But fate had other plans.
The wedding was in the grand ballroom of Rancho López, decorated with garlands of wildflowers and tables laden with carne asada, beans, and fresh tortillas.
Music filled the air, but Elena felt invisible among the crowd of cowboys and ranchers.
“Who is that redhead?” they whispered. “She looks like a stranger.”
Suddenly, the parlor door burst open. Three masked men stormed in, revolvers in hand.
“This is a robbery!” shouted the leader, thin and wearing a threadbare hat. “Hand over the dowry gold or you all die.”
Panic erupted. Elena ducked under the table, but before she could hide, one of the bandits pointed a gun at the bride. Another shot, but this time it didn’t come from the assailants.
A giant of a man, as tall as a mountain and with a thick beard, emerged from the shadows. Dressed in a threadbare poncho and dusty boots, he looked like a ghost from the Old West.
His name was Torbal the Viking, a Norwegian who had fled the wars in the North, now a fortune seeker in America.
With a Winchester rifle, he shot the bandit who was threatening the bride, hitting him in the chest. The hall erupted into a cacophony of bullets and screams. Elena felt a huge hand grip her shoulder.
She looked up and saw the Viking, his eyes as blue as cold steel.
“Act as if you were with me,” he whispered in a deep voice. “Do it, woman, or we’ll both die.”
Elena, with no time to think, was placed beside him as if they were a couple. The Viking used her as a shield, but not cruelly; it was a ploy to confuse the bandits.
Torbald fired again, bringing down the second assailant. The third fled through the gate, riding off into the night.
The room fell silent, broken only by sobs and murmurs.
Rancher López approached, trembling.
—Thank you, stranger. Who are you?
“Just one traveler. And this is my wife,” Torbal replied, still with his hand on Elena’s shoulder.
Elena understood the game. If she revealed the truth, she would be an easy target for revenge.
“Yes, I am his wife,” she said, forcing a smile.
The party continued as if nothing had happened, but that night, as the Viking escorted her to her cabin, Elena felt a chill.
“Why me?” he asked, trembling.
—I saw you alone. You seemed lost like me, and I needed an alibi.
Elena noticed scars and tattoos of ancient runes on her arms.
“I am not your property,” she retorted, her eyes blazing.
“I know,” he smiled. “But tonight you will be. There are more bandits out there, and one of them is my brother.”
The revelation hit her hard: Torbal was part of the gang, a traitor who had switched sides. His brother, the skinny leader, had planned the attack, but Torbal, fed up with the bloodshed, deserted.
“They’ve been hunting me since Norway,” he confessed. “I killed for honor and fled. I joined bandits to survive, but I can’t anymore.”
Elena, her heart racing, pulled a small deringer from her skirt.
“I could kill you right now,” he said, pointing the gun at him.
He didn’t flinch.
—Do it. But first, listen to me. Your past is haunting you too. I know about your husband.
—How do you know?
—I’ve heard rumors in the bars. I promise not to betray you. Help me escape and I’ll help you.