test – qtran

I asked in what little Apache I remembered from my military days. The older sister’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she didn’t answer.
I asked your names, I repeated in English. I am Kaia Nightwind, the older sister said finally, her voice steady despite her circumstances. This is my sister Ayana. Well, Ka and Ayana, I said, we have a long ride ahead of us.
As we walked toward my wagon, I could feel the weight of their stairs and the crowds whispers. Sheriff Stone approached as I was helping the sisters into the wagon bed.
Coleman, he said with a smirk. Hope you know what you’re doing. Apache women can be unpredictable. I can handle myself, Sheriff. Just remember, they’re your property now. Anything happens, any trouble they cause, it’s on your head. Property? The word made my skin crawl, but I nodded and climbed onto the wagon seat.
As we rolled out of Tombstone, I caught Ka’s reflection in the side mirror. She was whispering urgently to her sister in Apache, probably trying to figure out what fate awaited them. I couldn’t blame them for being terrified. We rode in silence for the first hour, the only sounds being the wagon wheels and the horses hooves.
Finally, Ayana spoke up in hesitant English. Where? Where are you taking us? I looked back at them. these two young women whose lives I just purchased for $500 and made a decision that would change everything.
Home, I said simply. I’m taking you home. I saw confusion in their eyes, but also the first glimmer of something that might have been hope.
They didn’t understand yet what I meant, but they would soon enough. The Red Canyon Ranch sat in a valley surrounded by red stone cliffs that gave the place its name.

It was a good spread. 2,000 acres of decent grazing land, a sturdy house, and all the outbuildings a working ranch needed. I’d built it with Sarah, dreaming of the family we’d raised there.
Now it felt too big and too empty for one man. As we approached the house, Rosa Martinez, my housekeeper, came out to see what was happening. Rosa was a widow in her 50s who’d worked for Sarah and me for almost 10 years. She took one look at the two Apache women in the back of my wagon and crossed herself.
“Dios Mio Senor Cole, what have you done?” “Something I should have done a long time ago,” I said, climbing down from the wagon. I walked around to the back and reached up to help Kaia down.
She hesitated for a moment, then accepted my hand. Her skin was warm despite the cool October air, and I could feel the strength in her grip.
Ayana was more trusting, allowing me to lift her down without resistance. Both women stood uncertainly in my yard, still bound and clearly unsure of what was expected of them.
Rosa, I said, “Could you prepare the guest rooms and maybe find some proper clothes for our guests?” “Guests?” Rosa’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s right, guests.
” I turned toKa and Ayana, who were watching this exchange with growing confusion. Let me make something clear, I said, looking each of them in the eye. You are not my property. You are not my slaves.
What happened in Tombstone was wrong, and I’m sorry it happened to you. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a knife, causing both women to tense.
But instead of threatening them, I moved to cut their bonds. You are free to leave whenever you want, I continued as I sliced through the ropes. But if you choose to stay, you’ll be treated as members of this household with all the respect and dignity that entails.