“Did you?”

“For a while.”

Her voice became quieter.

“They caught me.”

Calder looked at her.

“I am sorry.”

She lifted her eyes.

“You keep saying that.”

“I mean it.”

“Most men say sorry after they hurt someone.”

Calder's expression hardened.

“I won't.”

She believed him.

Not because she wanted to.

Because his actions had already begun proving it.

A storm came three days later.

Clouds gathered over the western mesa, darkening the afternoon.

Nahona stood outside watching the sky.

“Rain,” she said.

Calder looked up.

“Maybe.”

The first drop struck her cheek.

Then another.

Then dozens.

Rain fell across Red Mesa Draw.

The earth drank greedily.

Nahona tilted her face toward the sky.

Calder watched from the porch.

“You like rain?”

“We don't get enough.”

“Neither do I.”

She looked back.

“You said you fix things.”

“I try.”

“What about people?”

Calder paused.

“I don't know.”

“Some things break and stay broken.”

He stepped down from the porch.

“Some things don't.”

Nahona looked at him.

“Why do you believe that?”

“Because you're still standing.”

The rain intensified.

Neither moved.

For the first time, Nahona realized something dangerous.

She felt safe.

And safety was frightening because once a person discovered it, losing it could hurt more than never having known it.

That night, she slept near the fire.

When Calder found her asleep, he placed a blanket over her shoulders.

Her eyes opened.

She looked at him.

“You don't have to look after me.”

“I know.”

He walked away.

Nahona watched him until he disappeared into the shadows of the workshop.

She touched the blanket.

It smelled faintly of smoke, leather, and cedar.

She pulled it closer.

The peace lasted twelve days.

On the thirteenth morning, the horses became restless.

Nahona noticed first.

The mare lifted her head toward the ridge.

Calder stepped out of the barn.

Three clouds of dust rose in the distance.

Calder's expression changed.

“Inside.”

Nahona did not move.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

She recognized the riders.

Brock Tally.

Vern Mathers.

Cole Darren.

Brock rode in front.

He was a heavy man with a red face and narrow eyes. He wore a black hat and a revolver at his hip.

Vern rode beside him.

Cole stayed behind.

The three men stopped outside the gate.

Brock smiled.

“Well, now.”

Calder walked toward them.

Brock looked past him.

“Looks like you found yourself a guest.”

Nahona stepped into view.

Brock's smile widened.

“There she is.”

Calder's voice remained calm.

“Turn around.”

Brock laughed.

“We've come to collect what's ours.”

“She isn't yours.”

“She attacked us.”

“You tied her to a post.”

“She interfered with us.”

“With what?”

Brock glanced toward the mare.

“That animal was ours.”

Nahona spoke.

“You tried to kill her.”

Brock's expression darkened.

“You keep your mouth shut.”

Calder stepped between them.

“No.”

Brock stared at him.

“You've become very protective of her.”

Calder didn't answer.

Vern shifted in his saddle.

“Brock, maybe we should—”

“Stay out of it.”

Cole looked uncomfortable.

Nahona noticed.

So did Calder.

Brock dismounted.

He walked toward the gate.

“You know how this town works, Van.”

“Yes.”

“Then you know Copper Bend won't tolerate this.”

“This isn't Copper Bend.”

Brock stopped.

“It's my land.”

“You think a fence makes you king?”

“No.”

Calder's eyes hardened.

“The fact that you're standing here proves it doesn't.”

Brock reached for his holster.

Calder's hand moved slightly.

Not toward his gun.

Toward the hammer hanging at his belt.

Brock noticed.

For a moment, neither moved.

The wind stopped.

Vern's hand hovered near his revolver.

Cole stared at the ground.

Brock finally smiled.

“You think you're some kind of hero?”

“No.”

“Then move.”

“No.”

Brock stepped closer.

“You don't know what you're protecting.”

Calder's voice became quieter.

“I know exactly what I'm protecting.”

Nahona felt something tighten in her chest.

Brock turned toward her.

“You'll regret this.”

Nahona stood straight.

“I already regret meeting you.”

Brock's face twisted.

He took another step.

Calder blocked him.

“Leave.”

Brock stared into his eyes.

Then he laughed.

“We'll be back.”

He mounted.

Vern followed.

Cole hesitated.

For one second, he looked at Nahona.

There was guilt in his eyes.

Then Brock shouted his name.

Cole rode away.

The dust settled slowly.