The Healer of the Red Desert: A Historical Romance About Courage, Worth, and a Love That Chose Her

A House of Adobe, A Meeting of Equals

The hut was simple and clean, its doorway cut square against the blinding brightness. Tlacael stepped from its shade like a figure carved from the land itself. Broad-shouldered, dark-haired, quiet-eyed, he regarded the arriving party with steady calm.

Jimena felt the pull of old habits—lower the gaze, take up less space—but she lifted her chin instead. The officer delivered his orders and left a cloud of dust behind. Two people remained, strangers neither had chosen, with a day full of heat and a future full of question.

“I will not pretend this is a real marriage,” Tlacael said at last, voice even. “This was decided without us.”

“I know,” Jimena answered, surprised by the steadiness in her tone. “My family sent me because they did not know what else to do with me. Perhaps we are both here against our first wishes. But we are here.”

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