Midnight exploded.
The stallion bucked so violently that dust shot into the air.
Travis lasted four seconds.
Then he hit the ground.
The crowd shouted.
Travis rolled away, clutching his shoulder.
Midnight backed into the corner, breathing hard.
Daniel entered immediately.
“Everybody back!”
The crowd retreated.
Daniel approached Midnight slowly.
The stallion's nostrils flared.
Daniel stopped.
For several seconds, horse and man stared at each other.
“You're all right,” Daniel whispered.
Midnight lowered his head slightly.
Daniel turned toward Travis.
“You're done.”
Travis stood, embarrassed.
“I almost had him.”
“No,” Daniel said quietly. “You didn't.”
A few people laughed.
Travis glared at him and left the corral.
Daniel looked at Midnight.
“I don't know what happened to you,” he whispered. “But somebody made you believe the whole world was coming to hurt you.”
Then a small voice came from behind the fence.
“I don't think he hates people.”
Daniel turned.
A little girl stood near the gate.
She was nine years old.
Her name was Lily.
She wore a faded blue dress, dusty boots, and a straw hat that was too large for her head. Her knees were dirty from spending the morning helping her grandmother around their small property next to the Double C Ranch.
Daniel frowned.
“Lily, get away from the corral.”
She looked at him.
Then she looked at Midnight.
“I don't think he's angry.”
“Lily.”
“He's scared.”
The crowd became quiet.
Daniel sighed.
“You don't know that.”
Lily shrugged.
“Neither do you.”
Someone laughed.
Daniel didn't.
He walked toward her.
“That horse has thrown eleven grown men.”
“I know.”
“He can hurt you.”
“I know.”
“He could kill you.”
Lily looked back at Midnight.
The stallion had stopped moving.
His eyes were fixed on her.
“I don't think he wants to.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
Lily stepped toward the gate.
“No, what?”
“No. You are not getting inside.”
“I just want to stand near him.”
“No.”
She didn't argue.
She simply stood there.
For almost a minute, Lily said nothing.
Midnight watched her.
Then something strange happened.
The horse lowered his head.
The crowd murmured.
Daniel stared.
Midnight took one slow step forward.
Lily did not move.
Another step.
Then another.
Soon the stallion was standing only a few feet from the fence.
Lily slowly raised one hand.
Daniel's heart jumped.
“Don't!”
Lily stopped.
Midnight stretched his neck toward her.
His nostrils moved.
He smelled her hand from the other side of the fence.
Then he touched her fingers.
The entire crowd went silent.
Daniel could barely breathe.
Midnight had never allowed anyone to touch his face.
Not once.
Lily smiled.
“See?”
Daniel stared at the horse.
For the first time in three years, Midnight looked peaceful.
And Daniel realized something that frightened him more than any bucking horse ever had.
Maybe Midnight wasn't impossible to tame.
Maybe everyone had simply been speaking the wrong language.
The Girl Who Listened
The next morning, Daniel found Lily sitting beside the corral.
She was not inside.
She was not touching the horse.
She was simply sitting in the dirt with her knees pulled against her chest, reading an old paperback book.
Midnight stood twenty feet away.
He watched her.
Daniel stopped his truck.
“What are you doing?”
Lily looked up.
“Reading.”
“I can see that.”
She smiled.
Daniel walked closer.
“You've been here long?”
“About an hour.”
“Your grandmother know?”
“Yes.”
“Did she send you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
Lily closed the book.
“Midnight likes quiet.”
Daniel looked toward the stallion.
“He doesn't like people.”
“He likes me.”
Daniel almost smiled.
“Apparently.”
Lily stood.
“I don't want to ride him.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
“You don't?”
“No.”
“But yesterday you said—”
“I said people were wrong about him.”
Daniel studied her.
“Then what do you want?”
“I want him to stop being afraid.”
The answer caught Daniel off guard.
Adults usually talked about Midnight differently.
They talked about winning.
Money.
Reputation.
Control.
Nobody had talked about fear.