Disclaimer - I have only seen a few seasons of this show, so I do not know all the details about the characters - just in case someone reading this that is a hard core fan.
I know the Virginian was set in the 1890's, but I taking it back to the 1880's and bending historical dates for the purpose of this story.
Fan fiction is a way of keeping characters alive, despite their show has died. They live on through their fans.
Three tall men, donning cowboy hats and boots, stood overlooking a spring green valley, lush with vegetation. Each wore an angry expression.
"This was all ranching land once," Stacey said, rubbing his forehead as if fighting an inevitable headache.
"You mean it was public land that ranchers utilized."
Stacey glanced to the Virginian. What he meant was that it was really government land to use as they pleased. "This land has been used for generations by ranchers. If it wasn't for us, this territory would still be unsettled and infested with murdering natives and wild predators."
The Virginian winced at Stacey's jab toward America's first people, but held his tongue, knowing that Stacey's parents had been murdered by natives when he was a small child. Instead of saying it was their people who had robbed the natives of the land, he said, "And now that Wyoming is settled, that same government seeks to take the land from us and give it to farmers."
"Poor ignorant fools. Wyoming's soil is infertile and too dry to crop. The government knows this, yet continues to lure people, who know no better, to give up their lives back east and to come here, only to fail."
Stacey and the Virginian nodded at Trampas, agreeing. Trampas, known for his sense of humor, was rarely serious, but the current crisis affected him. It affected every rancher who relied on public lands for grazing. Without these lands and with farmers blocking waterways, their herds would diminish.
"There are those who plan to fight back. You thinking about joining them, Stacey?" the Virginian asked, shifting his hip, so that his gun fit more comfortably.
"As heir to Shiloh Ranch, I have no choice. You of all people know what it is like to have your home taken from you. I have to fight. I have to fight to survive."
The Virginian did sympathize. Once an officer in the Confederate Army, he had lost his home and family to the wrath of the Civil War. The Virginian grinned a half-grin and placed his palm against Stacey's back in a brotherly fashion. "Well then, know I have your back."
"As do I," Trampas imitated the gesture.
"Hell, I already knew that. You boys are not cut out to farm. Ranching lies at the center of your souls, like mine."
"That isn't it," smirked Trampas, now joking. "If too many farmers settle here, they will also settle the town; out goes the saloons and in comes the churches." Trampas was also known as a ladies' man.
At that, both Stacey and the Virginian chuckled. Trampas did have a point. Men like them came west because it was more than just a place on the map; it was a way of life.