In the scorching heat of a forgotten town somewhere deep in the Ilocos desert plains, where the sun beat down like burning steel and the wind carried the cries of hungry hawks, Alena struggled to stay conscious atop an overturned kerosene barrel. Her dress was torn from the chaos at the cantina, and dust clung to her sweat-soaked skin.

A tall, broad-shouldered ranchero with a weathered face and silver-streaked beard held her by the shoulders.
His name was Don Celestino Reyes, a widower hardened by years of herding cattle across dangerous trails, a man carrying a secret that gnawed at him like a hidden termite infestation inside a wooden post.

“Relax. The wound is shallow,” Alena whispered through clenched teeth, fresh blood trickling from a graze on her cheek where a stray bullet had grazed her during the shootout.

Don Celestino froze. His calloused hands trembled ever so slightly. The air was thick with gunpowder and heat; the echo of gunfire still bounced between the abandoned sari-sari stores.

He had stormed into the cantina to save her… or so he told himself.

But now, with her vulnerable under his care, something old and painful stirred in him—something tied to the past he had run from for years.

“It’ll be over soon,” he murmured, binding her wound with a torn handkerchief.

But what weighed on him had nothing to do with the injury.

Because Don Celestino wasn’t just a rancher—
He was the man who had caused the death of Alena’s father in a violent land dispute a decade earlier.

And now fate had placed her, injured and despe

It had all be

That morning, Alena—a fierce twenty-two-year-old with sun-kissed skin and hair like wild molasses—rode toward San Gerónimo, a dusty frontier town known for gamblers, smugglers, and crooked local officials.

She was fleeing a forced marriage arranged by Don Rodrigo Vergara, the wealthiest haciendero in the region, a man twice her age who saw her as a prize to display.

“I’ll break you like a wild carabao,” he had growled the night before.

So she stabbed him in the arm with a fruit knife and escaped.

In San Gerónimo’s cantina, she only wanted water and a moment to breathe—but instead ran into three members of Los, a notorious gang that roame

Their scar-faced leader recognized her

“Well, well… Don Rodrigo’s runaway bride,” he sneered.
“He’l

Alena drew her father’s old Colt .45, firing
“Touch me a

Chaos followed. Chairs overturned, bullets flew, a man was hit.
And just as she was about to be overwhelmed—

Don Celestino burst through the door, his old Winchester rifle roaring like thunder. In seconds, two gang members lay dead. The last one fled.

He dragged Alena outside to tend to her wound—
and that was where their real trouble began.

A new threat appeared.

From the dusty horizon rode Ramírez, Don Rodrigo’s most loyal henchman, wearing a fake police badge.

“Alena!” he shouted. “The Don wants you back. Now.”

Don Celestino stepped in front of her.

“Over my dead body.”

Ramírez smirked.
“Careful, Don Celestino… The whole province remembers what you did years ago.”

Alena’s eyes narrowed.
“What is he talking about?”

Before either man could answer, guns blazed.
Ramírez hit Celestino in the arm—
Celestino fired back, hitting him square in the chest.

Alena stared at him, breath trembling.

“Who are you to me?”

And finally, the truth came out.

“I… caused your father’s death. Ten years ago.
It was an accident during a fight over water rights.
He died in my arms.”

Alena staggered back, fury rising.

Before she could react, the sound of hooves thundered across the field.

Los Gagamba had returned.
And with them—Don Rodrigo.

The chase and the escape

Don Celestino dragged Alena into an abandoned bahay-na-bato house, hiding as the gang swept through town. They escaped through a trapdoor leading into forgotten tunnels built during the Spanish era.

In the darkness, their hands brushed.
Alena felt his pulse—quick, nervous.

“Why help me after what you did?” she whispered.

“Because your father once saved my life when we were young,” he said.
“And because… you remind me of him. Strong. Brave.”

Before she could respond, a bandit discovered them.
Celestino killed him silently—
but the noise gave them away.

They fled through the tunnels, emerging into a rocky ravine. Celestino lifted Alena onto his horse, Bagwis, and they galloped toward his ranch under a moon that looked carved from bone.

Bullets whizzed past them.
Alena clung to him, adrenaline drowning her pain.

Betrayal at the ranch

At dawn, they reached Don Celestino’s ranch—
only to discover a traitor in their midst.

Shots erupted from inside the compound.

Celestino shoved Alena into the stables.
Outside, battle raged—cowboys vs bandits.

Inside, Alena confronted him.

“You said it’d be over soon,” she said softly.
“Is this the end?”

His face softened.
“No. The end comes when we choose revenge… or forgiveness.”

Their closeness was undeniable—charged with confusion, fear, anger, and something more complicated than either dared name.

The final showdown

Don Rodrigo burst in, pistol drawn.

“She’s mine!”

Celestino challenged him.
Their duel was brutal but swift.

Rodrigo fell.

Alena, shaking, lifted her Colt at Celestino.

“For my father…”

Celestino lowered his rifle.

“If you must shoot, shoot.
But know this:
I loved your father.
And… I care for you too.”

Silence.

Her hand trembled… then dropped.

“No. The violence ends with us,” she

A new threat, a new beginning

They rebuilt the ranch together. Life began to bloom again.
But the frontier was never peaceful for long.

One night, a messenger arrived riding hard:

“A group of raiders is coming down from the mountains!”

Alena saddled her horse.

“This time,” she said, meeting Celestino’s eyes,
“We fight together.”

He smiled—a tired, hopeful smile.

“Yes. Life hurts. But it’s worth living.”

And side by side, they rode toward the rising dawn,
where danger, love, and destiny awaited them on the Philippine frontier.