Day And Night - A Sepper story.

When you're born into a rancher's family; you really have no choice but to learn the ways. And trust me, it's no easy/glamorous life, either. Every day, snow, rain, or hail, you have to saddle up and ride out to the range. Once you've ran your eyes over the couple heads[1 of cattle about a thousand times, you have to ride along the barbwire fences and make sure there is no possible way that any cattle could get out. In the winter, you have to put out more hay - not only for the cattle, but for the horses, too -, you have to make sure none of the cattle are hurt or sick, and every once in awhile you have to kill some, too. In most ranchers' eyes, cattle are exactly that - animals that have no other reason of being on this green earth other than to provide money to feed the ranchers' families. Vets aren't considered for the cattle; if they're too sick or injured, then you kill them. That's that. And then you move on to another day.

In the summer - like it is now, for example - you have just as much, if not more, to do. Feed the horses. Move the cattle, if needed, to different pastures or areas so they can graze. Make sure they aren't sick; make sure they don't have worms. Brand the new cattle. Ride along and make sure the fences aren't broke or damaged and make sure the poles holding said fences up, are straight and not sagging. Give the dogs a bath when they go out and roll in something dead. Do the regular chores. Make sure the horses have their excercise they need.

I, Samantha Forster, have a lot more chores and worries now than I did when I was younger. At sixteen - soon to be seventeen -, my dad has decided that he wants me to know how to run the ranch. Since he's "not getting any younger", I know that one day I'll have to take over most of the chores from my dad and Dallas, and one day, the whole ranch. I know I'll have Bryanna's help, and, hopefully, Ross and Pepper's too. Certainly Jake's, since he seems to have no dreams of letting me out of his sight for the next couple of years - possibly not ever. I'll probably be ninety and he'll still be telling me how to do things. But, still, taking on such a job is a bit intimidating. For me, anyway.

But, that's probably in the far future. Right now, in the present, I'm currently hanging up the newly cleaned - vaccumed, really - saddle pads. Cougar - now three years old and hardly a kitten anymore - is sitting on the door of one of the old, unused stalls, watching me with keen, narrow eyes. Nanuk, a German Shepherd Dog that I found abbanoned on the side of the road one day, was lying at my feet with his head on his paws. Snoozing away, most likely. But I knew that as soon as I moved towards the door of the barn, he'll jump up and follow at my heels like the good, loyal boy he is. I smiled as I put away the last blanket and moved towards Cougar to scratch him behind the ears. He allowed it, but he glared at me. Ever since he had grown out of his cute kittenhood he had been unbelievably unsociable.

I glanced out into the ranch yard. School had let out a few days ago, and it was only now just warming up in Nevada. Usually it was warmer than this, usually it was already hot and sweltering; but not this year. Not in 2008.

Sarah Buxton's One Of Those Days played in the stereo on an upturned, cloudy gray crate. She was a country singer, even though sometimes she did sing a pretty high pitch that made Sam wince. Listening to the flowing lyrics, Sam leaned against the doorway and sighed softly. There was a slight breeze today that played idily with Sam's bangs that had escaped from her tightly-pulled ponytail. She wore a T-shirt that wasn't baggy enough to be a nuisance, but where it wasn't tight. Faded blue jeans hung on her hips, accompied by an brown belt with a belt buckle ((a present from Jake last Christmas)) that had the painted image of wild horses running across the Nevadan deserts. Aparrently, there was a guy in town who painted belt buckles and sold them, and Jake knew him. He still wouldn't tell her who the guy was, though. Just to be the irratating cowboy he was.

"Sam?"

Sam turned towards the house upon hearing her dad's voice. Wyatt stood leaning against a sturdy rocking chair that resided on the porch.

"Could I speak to you for a minute?"

-----------xxAuthoress Notes && Footnotes-----

[1 "Heads" of cattle: This is a term that stands for a "group" of cattle. Like a "pack" of wolves, a "herd" of horses, a "flock" of birds. You get the picture.

Well, HERE! A Sepper story! Now be HAPPY!

Haha, joking. I just wrote this up and thought I'd post it - I have a plot bunny in my head for a Sam x Pepper story and this is the start of it. Yeah, it's short. But I'll start on the second chapter next and on and on. I'll also be working on the fourteenth ((I think?)) chapter of Viruses And Romances. Dunno when that'll be up, though. Jake is being stubborn and I can hardly think of any good dialogue between him and Sam. Which is FRUSTRATING because I really wanna get to writing that story again!

Anyway, now it's YOUR turn! You can't just drive me nuts with requests for a Sepper and then not review, you know! Hehe. But yeah, I'll be checking on this story every once and awhile and awaiting reviews. I love /every/ review I get, no matter how long or short! It can even be one word, if you really want to. xD Anyway. I'll stop blabbering now and get to writing on the second chapter.