In a remote ranch called La Soledad, lived Doña Refugio Valenzuela, a widow since the age of 29. Her husband, Don Crisóforo, had died four years earlier, leaving her alone with two thousand hectares of dry land and a large adobe house. Refugio was a striking woman with a slender waist and green eyes that seemed to convey strength and tenderness at the same time.
One November afternoon, three horsemen appeared on the horizon. They were Chirikahua Apaches: Alto, Nissoni, and Tasa. The Apaches had crossed the border from Arizona, drawn by a vision from the spirits. They dismounted in front of the ranch, their black braids gleaming with bear grease, and approached Refugio.
Alto, the oldest, spoke first. “We come from far away, woman. The spirits told us about you.” Refugio raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Nissoni stepped forward, his voice soft and melodic. “We haven’t come to rob or hurt you. We’ve come to offer you our company, our passion, and our warmth.”
Refugio was taken aback, but she didn’t show fear. She looked them up and down, assessing the situation. The Apaches seemed genuine, and their words sparked something inside her. She invited them to dinner, and they spent the evening eating, drinking, and talking.
As the night wore on, Refugio felt an intense attraction to the Apaches. She agreed to their proposal, and they spent the next three days and nights in a whirlwind of passion and intimacy. The Apaches taught her ways of loving she had never known, and she surrendered to their desires.
But their time together was short-lived. The rurales, sent by a neighboring landowner, arrived to capture the Apaches and seize the ranch. A shootout ensued, and the Apaches fought bravely, but they knew they couldn’t stay. They left Refugio, promising to return, but she knew it was unlikely.
Months later, Refugio gave birth to a boy with green eyes and black hair. She named him Crisóforo, after his grandfather. Every full moon, when the coyotes howled three times, Refugio would go out onto the porch, feeling the wind in her hair, knowing that somewhere in the desert, three Apache warriors remembered her.
