**Part 2**
Esteban switched off the lamp, grabbed his rifle, and told Lucía to stay quiet. But the rider who arrived wasn’t an enemy—it was Don Aurelio, an old shopkeeper who knew every mountain trail and had seen four men passing through asking about a wounded woman and two children. One of them wore a black suit despite the heat and carried a leather briefcase: it was Licenciado Barragán, Don Víctor’s lawyer. Don Aurelio read the reward notice and burned it in the stove without hesitation, knowing a paper like that could buy people’s loyalty.
Before dawn, Mateo stopped shaking and opened his eyes, searching for his mother. When he saw Esteban, he held his hand tightly and, half asleep, called him “Papa.” That small mistake struck the rancher like a gentle bullet. Elena woke up hours later and, finding herself in an unfamiliar house, tried to flee, but her body refused to cooperate. Esteban spoke to her firmly: if she went back into the mountains with a weak boy and an exhausted girl, she would be handing them over to death before ever facing the man hunting them.
Then Elena revealed the truth: her husband, Julián Salazar, had uncovered that Don Víctor was stealing land from farmers by cutting off their water and burning their livestock. Julián had threatened to report him in the capital, and a week later he was found dead beneath a horse that could never have knocked him down. Elena said it clearly—it was not an accident—and from that moment on, her father-in-law decided to take the children away, lock her up as their caretaker, and silence her forever.
Esteban realized that hiding them would not be enough. Barragán would arrive with forged documents, false witnesses, and armed men. Don Aurelio suggested calling Father Anselmo and two witnesses; if Elena agreed to legally marry Esteban—even if only as protection—the children would already be under a stepfather’s roof before the lawyer could take them.
Elena felt offended and wounded, because for years men had made decisions for her through papers, signatures, and threats. Esteban corrected himself: he wasn’t asking for her bed, her heart, or her obedience; he was offering only his surname as a wall—a wall she could tear down whenever she no longer needed it.
Elena spoke privately with Lucía. At dawn, as the dog growled toward the mesquite trees, she agreed to three conditions: that Esteban would never touch her without her consent, that he would never break her children’s hearts, and that when Don Víctor fell, she would have the right to burn the marriage certificate. Esteban agreed.
But before noon, Barragán arrived with three men and a rolled tarp—ready to wrap the children like bundles.
