Blaine Harrow stared at Emmett Knox as though he had just heard a hired hand declare himself governor of Arizona Territory.
"No?"
The word came out slowly.
Emmett stood beside the corral, his hat back on his head and his gun belt resting against his hip.
"No," he repeated. "That horse doesn't need another beating."
A murmur traveled through the crowd.
Blaine's face flushed.
"You seem confused about something, Knox. I own that stallion."
"I understand."
"Then you understand I can do whatever I please with him."
Emmett looked toward the gray horse.
The stallion stood near the far fence, watching them with his head raised.
"Owning something doesn't mean every way of treating it is right."
Blaine stepped closer.
"Careful."
Emmett did not move.
Nollie watched from beside Gus.
She had expected the cowboy to remain quiet, perhaps walk away now that he had survived his dangerous experiment.
Instead, he was standing his ground against a man whose wealth influenced nearly every business in Copper Creek.
Gus cleared his throat.
"Nobody's disputing your ownership, Blaine. But maybe Knox could work with him a little longer."
Blaine turned.
"For what?"
"Because he's the first fellow who's made any progress."
"Progress?" Blaine scoffed. "The animal touched his hand. That's hardly the same as accepting a saddle."
"No," Emmett answered. "It isn't."
Blaine smiled triumphantly.
"Glad you admit it."
"Trust takes longer than an afternoon."
Something about that answer made the crowd quiet.
It was not a boast.
It was not a challenge.
It was simply the truth.
Blaine studied Emmett for a moment.
Then a calculating expression crossed his face.
"All right, Knox. You think you understand horses better than my men?"
"I think this one needs patience."
"Then prove it."
Emmett waited.
Blaine gestured toward the corral.
"You've got until sundown tomorrow. If that stallion will accept your touch, take a halter, and follow you without fighting, I'll admit your method has merit."
Gus frowned.
"And if he doesn't?"
Blaine smiled.
"Then my men do things my way."
Nollie felt her stomach tighten.
Emmett looked toward the horse.
The stallion had begun walking slowly along the fence.
"One condition," Emmett said.
Blaine laughed.
"You're bargaining with me?"
"No ropes around his neck until he's ready. No whips. No spurs. Nobody enters that corral without my say-so while I'm working."
Blaine considered the watching crowd.
Refusing would make him appear unreasonable.
Accepting would give him another opportunity to watch Emmett fail.
"Fine," he said. "Until tomorrow's sundown."
He extended his hand.
Emmett shook it.
But when Blaine walked away, Nollie noticed the look he gave the stallion.
It was not the look of a man concerned about an animal.
It was the look of someone who had been denied something he believed belonged to him.
The crowd gradually dispersed.
Wagons rattled down the street. Cowboys returned to their horses. Gus began closing the trading post's shutters.
Emmett remained beside the corral.
The stallion watched him from the far side.
Nollie approached carrying a small tin cup of water.
"You look like you could use this."
Emmett accepted it.
"Thank you."
He drank slowly.
She stood beside him.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then she said, "I owe you an apology."
"You already gave me one."
"Not a proper one."
He lowered the cup.
Nollie looked toward the horse.
"I made that promise because I thought you would fail. I wanted to make the crowd laugh. I didn't stop to think what might happen if you actually tried."
Emmett studied her.
"You didn't make me climb that fence."
"I know. But I helped turn that poor animal's suffering into entertainment."
The admission surprised him.
Most people preferred excuses to responsibility.
Nollie offered none.
"My family taught me better," she continued. "I forgot myself."
Emmett nodded.
"Everybody does sometimes."
She looked at him.
"Even you?"
A faint smile touched his face.
"More often than I'd care to admit."
The answer made her laugh softly.
Then her expression became serious.
"Why didn't you try to ride him?"
"Because he wasn't ready."
"But everyone expected you to."
"That doesn't make it right."
Nollie considered the words.
"You don't care much what people think."
"I care what certain people think."
"Which people?"
Emmett glanced at her.
"Still figuring that out."
She felt warmth rise into her cheeks.
For once, she had no clever reply.
The following morning, Copper Creek awakened beneath a pale pink sky.
Emmett arrived before the trading post opened.
He carried a bucket of fresh water and a small bundle of hay.
The stallion stood near the center of the corral.
When Emmett approached, the horse raised his head.
"Morning, boy."
Emmett placed the bucket near the fence.
He did not enter immediately.
Instead, he sat on an overturned crate outside the enclosure and waited.
The stallion watched him.
After several minutes, he approached the water.
He lowered his head.
Drank.
Then lifted his eyes toward the cowboy.
Emmett smiled.
"That's right. Nothing complicated today."
Nollie arrived carrying bread wrapped in cloth.
She stopped when she saw him sitting quietly.
"Is this how you plan to win your wager?"
Emmett looked up.
"Morning."
"Morning."
She offered him the bread.
"Thought you might forget breakfast."
"That's happened before."
"I suspected."
He accepted the food with a grateful nod.
She sat on the lower fence rail.
For several minutes, they watched the stallion eat.
Then Nollie asked, "What do you call him?"
Emmett looked surprised.
"He hasn't got a name."
"Every horse ought to have one."
"Maybe."
"What would you choose?"
Emmett studied the animal.
The gray coat seemed almost silver in the morning light.
His black mane fell across his powerful neck like a storm cloud.
"Storm," Emmett said finally.
Nollie smiled.
"That suits him."
The horse lifted his head.
Emmett chuckled.
"Seems he heard you."
"Then Storm it is."
She said the name again, softly.
The stallion flicked one ear toward her.
Nollie's smile widened.
For a moment, the coming confrontation with Blaine seemed far away.
By midmorning, Emmett entered the corral.
Storm moved away at first.
Emmett allowed it.
He spent nearly an hour simply walking in slow arcs, stopping whenever the horse showed uncertainty.
Eventually, Storm approached him.
The stallion sniffed his sleeve.
Then touched his shoulder.
Emmett remained still.
Outside the fence, Nollie watched with shining eyes.
Gus emerged from the trading post carrying coffee.
"Well, I'll be damned."
Nollie turned.
"He's doing it again."
Gus nodded.
"Never seen a man take so much trouble to do so little."
"He's doing more than you think."
Gus looked at her.
She smiled.
"He's teaching Storm that he can walk away."
Gus scratched his beard.
"Seems a strange way to teach a horse to stay."
"Maybe that's why it works."
Inside the corral, Emmett slowly lifted his hand.
Storm watched.
The cowboy stopped.
Waited.
Then gently touched the horse's shoulder.
The stallion flinched.
Emmett withdrew immediately.
Storm stepped away.
No punishment followed.
No rope tightened.
No man shouted.
Several minutes later, the horse returned.
This time, Emmett touched his shoulder again.
Storm remained still.
Nollie felt a rush of happiness so sudden it almost hurt.
She wanted to cheer.
Instead, she stayed quiet.
The moment belonged to the horse.
At noon, Blaine arrived with two riders.
He watched from the fence for several minutes.
Then he called, "You planning to put a saddle on him before winter?"
Emmett did not answer.
Blaine's riders laughed.
Nollie stood.
"He's making progress."
Blaine looked at her.
"You're awfully interested in his progress."
"Perhaps because I can recognize it."
One of the riders snickered.
Blaine's expression hardened.
"You might want to remember who you're speaking to."
Nollie lifted her chin.
"I know exactly who I'm speaking to."
Gus stepped between them.
"Let's keep things civil."
Blaine gave a dismissive wave.
"Fine. Let the cowboy have his afternoon."
He turned toward Emmett.
"But sundown comes whether you're ready or not."
After Blaine left, Nollie remained troubled.
Emmett noticed.
"What's wrong?"
"That man doesn't like losing."
"No."
"And he doesn't like being told no."
"I noticed."
"Then why agree to his wager?"
Emmett looked toward Storm.
"Because I couldn't stand watching them start over with ropes and whips."
Nollie studied him.
"You really believe you can change what happens to that horse?"
"I can try."
"What if trying isn't enough?"
Emmett was silent for a moment.
"Then I'll have to find another way."
Late that afternoon, Storm accepted a soft touch along his neck.
Emmett moved slowly, careful to avoid the rope burns.
The horse trembled at first.
Then relaxed.
Emmett withdrew his hand.
"Good boy."
Nollie approached the fence.
"He's beginning to trust you."
"A little."
"More than a little."
Emmett smiled.
"Let's not rush him."
She leaned against the railing.
"You're always telling people not to rush."
"Usually because people are in a hurry to make mistakes."
Nollie laughed.
Then she looked toward the horse.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Did you ever think about what would happen if you succeeded?"
"With Storm?"
"With my promise."
Emmett's expression grew thoughtful.
"I figured you'd tell me what you really wanted."
She looked down.
"And if I didn't know?"
"Then I'd wait until you did."
The answer touched something deep inside her.
She had known men who wanted quick answers, quick agreements, quick promises.
Emmett seemed willing to wait for the truth.
Even when waiting offered him no advantage.
Before she could reply, Storm stepped closer.
He lowered his head beside Emmett.
And, for the first time, allowed the cowboy to rest his palm against his forehead.
Nollie forgot everything else.
The magnificent animal stood still.
No rope.
No force.
No fear-driven struggle.
Just a quiet cowboy and a horse beginning to understand him.
Gus, watching from the trading post doorway, removed his hat.
"Well," he whispered, "would you look at that."
But as the sun sank toward the western cliffs, a rider approached from Blaine Harrow's ranch.
He stopped beside the trading post and handed Gus a folded note.
Gus opened it.
His expression changed.
Nollie noticed immediately.
"What is it?"
Gus looked toward Emmett.
Then toward the gray stallion.
"Blaine's changed his mind."
Emmett approached the fence.
"About what?"
Gus swallowed.
"The wager."
He held up the note.
"He's coming at sundown. And he's bringing men to take the horse."
Nollie felt the warmth leave her face.
Because Storm had finally begun to trust.
And the man who owned him had decided that trust was taking too long.