Range War, a big valley fanfic

Range War

By geturkicks66

Early evening at the Barkley ranch Heath had escaped the house to groom his horse. As he quietly brushed Charger, he listened to the sounds that signaled the days end: the horses in their stalls, relaxed and eating their hay, tin plates rattled as Cook put them away into their cupboard 'til morning. Over in the smithy he could hear O'Brien working the bellows on the forge as he warmed it up. From the main house, he heard the kitchen door slam, Heath smiled, as listened to the jingling of spurs as they approached the barn. After a year and a half of living here, he never tired listening to those sounds.

Nick interrupted the stillness of the evening when he came bounding into the barn bellowing, like a bull moose during mating season. "Heath!" looking around he spotted his brother in Charger's stall. Supported by the stall door Heath looked at Nick waiting for the news the man seemed about to burst with.

"You remember Steve Lewis in Wyoming Territory?" he asked and before Heath could reply, he continued. "Last winter took a toll on the cattle. Lewis lost most of his herd and has decided to sell out."

"I had heard something about that." Heath pushed himself off the stall door and continued to curry Charger. "What's that got to do with us?" He hid a half smile when Nick yelled, "Why, boy, he wants to give us first choice on his remuda!" he slapped Heath on the shoulder. "Two hundred head of his finest stock!"

"And what all does that entail?" Heath asked as he switched to the soft brush and continued grooming. Heath was thinking that they did need more saddle stock for the spring round up.

"Lewis wants us to come up in a few days. That way we can look over the stock." said Nick growing a bit impatient and started to pace in front of Charger's stall. He stopped watching Heath as he ran his hand over the bay gelding's foreleg. "We could call the trip a bit of a vacation."

Heath stood up, "Got cabin fever?"

Nick smiled, "Yea, something like that." Nick could see that the idea was sounding very good to Heath.

"Are we going to drive them home? Or ship them?" asked Heath.

"Shipping them by rail would be costly. Do you know what the railroad is charging a head? We could drive them for less."

"What about water and grass?" asked Heath gathering the brushes and exiting the stall. "Hasn't been much rain. The grass is going to be short."

"Grass should be alright thru Nevada and Utah, and when we swing south the grass should be more plentiful."

"And water?" asked Heath again putting the brushes into a small bucket that hung on a wooden peg in the tack room.

"It will be there." Nick declared. Heath thought he heard some doubt, but did not push the issue.

"Alright, big brother, let's do it.," said Heath giving his brother

"Green River folk!" called out the conductor as he moved through the passenger car. A few passengers began to gather their belongings. Nick looked over at his brother who sat slumped in his seat, his tan hat pulled down over his eyes and arms folded across his chest. Leaning forward, he gave his brother's knee a nudge. Heath raised his head at the same time pushing his hat back onto his blond head. He gave him a lopsided grin and rose to follow Nick off the train.

After two days on that rattling contraption, it was good to be standing on solid ground. Heath stretched. Nick had convinced the family that it would be a good investment and with their blessings, they had left the next morning.

"We'll get the horses settled at the livery. Then we'll find us a place to sleep." said Nick as they headed for the livestock car.

"I could use a hot meal," replied Heath as he rubbed his stomach. Nick laughed "You buying?"

Opening the door to the car, they were welcomed with nickers from their mounts. Charger snorted and pawed at the bedding in his stall while Coco stood patiently, waiting to be unloaded. "Well let's get them out of here," supposed Nick moving into the car to untie Coco. As if to agree, Charger bobbed his head.

Locating the livery, the brothers stabled their horses and made their way to the hotel the livery stable holster directed them to.

"He was right, it's nothing to brag about," said Nick eyeing the ramshackle building. Heath adjusted his bedroll on his shoulder.

"I don't care what the building looks like Nick, if they serve a good meal, I'll be happy."

Stepping through the front door Nick grumbled. "Looks just as bad in here as it did out there." Heath gave him a side-glance and approached the hotel desk. The man that greeted them was a comical looking fellow with a balding head, and large eyes behind thick glasses. He greeted them with a sniveling voice. He had lived his entire life in this town. He had never stood on his own, always the bug on someone's boot heel.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" he asked gazing at them. Nick leaned on the counter nodding his head.

"We need a room for the night."

"And a good meal," added Heath, before the clerk could reply.

Taking a key off the wall, he handed it to Nick. "It will be $2 a night." Nick took the key and paid the money, all the while grumbling about the cost. "Would you please sign the register?" as Nick signed the hotel book the clerk told Heath where they could find a meal. The clerk glanced at the names Nick had entered into the registry, then back to Heath, his eyes even larger.

Seeing the clerks shocked expression, Heath asked, "Is there something wrong?" Sam shook his head as he looked into the steel blue eyes before him. Nodding his thanks Heath followed Nick up the stairs to their room. Sam Dodson glanced again at the name that had caught his attention. He knew what he had to do. Glancing at the clock behind the desk, it read six thirty. At this late hour, most of the businesses, except the assayer's office would have closed.Sam pushed his glasses back up his nose, glanced up the stairs, then quickly left the hotel.

Sam knew that there was one person who would be glad to hear that Heath Barkley was in town.

Range War: part 2

The room was small, the gold paper that hung on the walls now faded with time and neglect told of its once regal stature. One wall held bunks and the other held a dresser with a pitcher and bowl.

"Not much for two dollars," snorted Nick.

"We are staying the night, Nick, not living here. Let's go get some supper." Heath tossed his stuff onto a bunk, and then headed back out the door.

Sam was surprised, Steve had mentioned that he had some gunfighters coming and he had mentioned Heath Barkley. He made his way to the assayer's office. Steve Lewis was sitting in a chair drinking coffee with Jerry Sanders when Sam entered.

"Sam, what can I do for you?" Steve asked sitting his cup on the desk. Steve Lewis was a short man. His once brown hair had lightened from age. He was a calculating man, a gambler. He would gamble with the devil, if it got him what he wanted, and he did not care who it hurt along the way. He thought of himself as a king, and the people around him pawns to be used to his benefit. He knew men. He could sniff out their weakness, and use it against them, all in the name of profit.

Sam was hesitant, unsure he wanted to say anything in front of Sanders, but he managed to spit out the words.

"Heath Barkley is in town."

Steve nodded and Sam quickly left. A slow smile spread across Lewis's face. The board was set. Heath Barkley was a pawn in his game and the game would begin tonight. He looked at Sanders,

"Now it's time you start earning your pay."

Sanders had always been a bully. His intimidating size made it easy for him in school. His father had been a farmer and being a farmer's son he had to do chores that built his physical strength. Sanders had no love for the land. When his father died, he sold everything that the bank hadn't taken, and left. He worked on the docks, sailed on ships. He used his fists or gun to settle any dispute, and it gave him power. With this power, he became what he was today, a hired bully with a gun. He was good at what he did. He got the results that he needed to get, with no questions asked. Lewis had sent for him. To set this plan into action he needed Sanders and so far, the plan was going smoothly.

Sheriff Herb Nobler was sixty- three years old. What hair he had left he hid up under his hat. Herb had lived in Green River for twenty- some years. With his wife Beatrice, they had traveled from Ohio to start a ranch. However, the winters were hard and the loss was great. He moved the family into town and opened the mercantile. They had two children, a daughter Suzann, who married and moved to Denver. Their son, Ben died in Tennessee during the war. He now lay in the church cemetery next to his mother.

Sheriff Herb Nobler, had been at the jailhouse when he seen the two men unload their horses from the train and take them to the livery. He had also seen them go into the hotel. After awhile he watched as Sam made his way to the assayer office then returned to the hotel. He glanced at the open door of the only cell in the jailhouse, where his friend Joe Causemaker lay sleeping. They both knew that Steve Lewis was up to something. They had known for sometime trouble was brewing. You don't bring in men like Jerry Sanders without knowing that you're going to stir things up. There also the rumors, more like saloon stories. They said that an unknown person had sent for a gunfighter. Then this afternoon two strangers get off the train. If it had been just the two of them, Sheriff Nobler wouldn't have thought much about it. When they unloaded the horses, the Sheriff knew that trouble had arrived.

Joe stirred, and then sat up rubbing his eyes, then stretching as he stood. He shuffled out into the office. Herb handed him a cup of coffee, and waited for the man to tell him what he had learned about the two visitors. Joe shook his head and grimaced after the first swallow, "Herb, you need to learn how to make coffee!"

Herb smiled at his young friend. "You just like going to the Blue Bird to make eyes at that pretty waitress, Nancy."

Joe sat on the edge of the old oak desk. "I sent a few wires, in regarding those two strangers, and I did manage to find out who they are."

Herb leaned back in his chair waiting. "Well? Who are they?" he asked when Joe sat smiling over his cup.

"They are the Barkley brothers, out of Stockton, California."

"And just tell me how you got that information?"

"I may have taken a glance at the hotel registration book, after Sam left." Joe green eyes smiled at Herb. He looks like the cat that ate the canary!

Herb looked into his cup. "Are they any relation to that lawyer fellow, Jarrod Barkley?"

Joe stood up and walked over to the stove. He took down the potholder and reached for the coffee pot. Lifting the pot, he poured himself another cup. Nodding to Herb, as he set the pot back onto the stove and returning the potholder to its peg on the wall. Turning to face Herb, he said, "They are." Herb sighed Lordy that was all they needed. "What else?"

Joe leaned against the wall looking out the window. "They are here to buy horses from Steven Lewis."

Herb let out a sigh of relief, but looking at Joe, he knew there was more. "Well, what is it Joe?"

Joe looked at the sheriff, "There is a rumor in town, that the youngest brother may be a gunfighter."

"Think there's any truth to it?" asked Herb. He watched Joe sit his empty cup on the desk then walk towards the door. Joe took his gun belt from the peg and put it on.

"Think I'll go get me a beer, might even git in on a game of poker." Joe opened the door at the same time he grabbed his hat, turning back to the sheriff he smiled, "Don't wait up for me, boss." Herb chuckled at the closed the door.

After a meal at the Blue Bird Cafe, Nick and Heath located a saloon across the street. As they walked thru the batwing doors, they glanced around taking in the crowd. The long mahogany bar stood at the back of the building. Several tables stood between the bar and the door. An old piano stood just inside the door, a very attractive saloon girl was plunking out a tune. Getting the attention of the barkeep, they each ordered a beer. Heath turned to watch the nearest table that held a poker game. Nick sighed knowing Heath would eventually leave to join the game. "Poor fools," he thought as Heath slipped into an empty chair.

"Nick Barkley? Glad to see that you made it!" said a voice with a slight Texas drawl, at Nick's right elbow.

Turning to meet the man, he smiled with recognition, sticking out his hand. "Hey! Lewis, it's good to see ya! How are ya doing?"

"Better, now that you're here. You come here alone?" Steve looked around the saloon he had noticed Sanders come into the saloon. Sanders hesitated at the door, made eye contact with Lewis, and then headed toward the poker table.

"No, I brought my brother, Heath with me. He is a better at judging horse flesh," laughed Nick, gesturing toward the poker table. "He's wiping these poor fools out of their hard earned wages." he chuckled.

Together Nick and Steve watched the poker game. Soon the game became a match between two players, Heath and Jerry Sanders. Heath signaled to Nick that this was to be his last hand. Sanders dealt the cards. He picked up his cards and tossed two out, retrieved two from the deck then waited on Heath.

Heath leaned back in his chair. Casually he arranged the cards in his hand. He tossed out a few coins, raising the pot. Surprised that Heath hadn't discarded, Sanders also raised. With a slight nod from Heath, Sanders silently laid his cards out on the table. A pair of ladies He smiled at Heath, who shrugged and laid his cards out. Sanders slammed his fist to the table as he looked at Heath's cards. "Looks like a full house beats your pair, Sanders." whistled a green-eyed cowboy. Sanders face was red as he leaned forward to whisper into Heaths ear.

Nick had taken it all in and smiled when Heath bested Sanders. He watched as Sanders spoke to Heath. Nick noticed Heath stiffened, and then stood up. He was about to see what was going on when Steve interrupted his movement from the bar. "Nick, we will be seeing you and your brother in the morning then?"

Nick took his eyes from Heath to look at Steve. Remembering why they were there, he smiled, "We'll see ya in the morning. Have the coffee hot!" he said, shaking Steve's hand before the rancher left the saloon. Turning back to Heath, he found his brother watching him. Nick couldn't read Heath's blue eyes, but thought that there was despair in them. What ever Sanders had said to Heath, had the boy tighter than a wagon spring.

Gently patting Heath's shoulder they left the saloon.

Chapter 3

The sun had been up for a few hours, casting its golden glow over the landscape. Two riders moved at an easy pace. The sounds of creaking leather from their saddles and their horses breathing was the only sound coming from the pair. Nick hadn't tried to get Heath to tell him what had happen between him and Sanders. He figured if he pushed to get the information Heath would clam up tighter. No, he would wait until Heath was ready to tell him, but the boy was making it hard to be patient.

Lewis met them when they rode into the yard. "Step down, boys! The coffee is hot!" Nick nodded his head and dismounted. "Sounds good!" he turned, noticed that Heath was still mounted. "I'll take care of the horses, Nick." Not wanting to push his brother, Nick handed Heath his horse's reins, patted Heath's leg then followed Lewis into the house.

Stepping out of the saddle, Heath gave a gentle pull on the reins; the two horses followed Heath as he led them to the water trough. Sanders had watched the brothers' ride into the ranch yard. After Lewis had taken Nick into the house, he stepped out of the bunkhouse as Heath approached the water trough.

"Nice morning! Ain't it?" asked Sanders as he placed his leg on the trough and leaned onto his knee. Heath looked at him without saying a word. Sanders straightened and adjusted his gun belt, and stepped closer to Heath. "Now, you had better be sociable or I will carry out my promise I made to you last night." Heath again remained silent and Sanders moved off toward the barn to saddle horses for himself and Lewis.

Heath let out the breath he was holding. Patting his horse on the neck, he checked his girth. The then turned and rolled a smoke, all the while surveying the ranch layout. He also thought about the threat that Sanders had made last night: "If you don't do as I tell you, your brother will pay the price." It was a simple threat. It hit him where it would hurt the most, his family, his heart. Heath had no idea what Sanders wanted. He had a good idea that Lewis was behind it. Therefore, to protect Nick, he would do as they asked, until he could get Nick safely out of the way. Then he would deal with them.

Lewis and Nick came out of the house laughing. Heath mounted his horse and rode over to meet Nick. At the same time, Sanders came out of the barn leading two saddled horses. Nick took the reins of his horse. "Let's go look at these horses you keep bragging about!" together they rode out of the yard toward the range where Lewis kept the horses.

The horses came galloping over the ridge like water running over a dam. They flew down through a sparse stand of Aspen trees and into the open meadow, tossing their heads and snorting into the wind. They swept by the four mounted men, their hooves churned up the turf, sending dirt clods flying, their manes rising and falling like waves on the ocean. The morning sun danced across their backs, grullas, duns, grays, red roans, blue roans, palominos, bays, and blacks. Heath sat in wonderment, thinking how their colors reminded him of an old patchwork quilt that Hannah had made.

Lewis's men forced the herd into a circled to get them stopped. Nick looked over at Heath. He could tell that Heath liked what he saw. Giving Nick a glance Heath moved toward the herd. Slowly he circled around the milling horses, stopping occasionally to write in his notebook. Then he returned to Nick.

"Well?" asked Nick. As Heath glanced over the notes, he had taken.

"There is a total of two hundred and thirty head. Only 66 of them are worth considering." Heath said still looking over his notes, "Of the 66 only 42 head are worth taking home."

Nick thought for a moment, and then looked at Lewis. "We'll take the 42, Heath has chosen."

"My boys will help you sort them. You just tell them which ones." nodded Lewis

For the better part of the day, they sorted out the 42 horses. Occasionally Nick had asked, "Why not that blue roan mare?" or "How about that bay?" and Heath would explain to him just why he didn't like her. "She is long backed and ewe necked." or "Has a bowed tendon." Heath looked at Nick, "Something that isn't going to wear the Barkley brand!" Nick grinned. Heath was taking pride in the Barkley name. "Ok, I'll trust your judgment, Heath!"

They ran the horses into a large corral at Lewis's ranch. "That's a big herd for just two men to handle.", stated Lewis. Nick nodded in agreement. "Yea I'll wire Jarrod this afternoon. Have him send a couple men to help drive them home." Lewis turned to Sanders, "Why don't you take Heath out and show him that stallion." it was not a question but an assertion and Heath picked up on it. Following along Heath nodded his head, "I'd like to see him." Nick was about to interject when Heath put him at ease, "You go send that wire to Jarrod, Nick. I'll catch up to ya later." Before Nick could say anything, Heath and Sanders rode out toward Moss Peck.

Once they were out of site of the ranch, Sanders slowed so that Heath could ride next to him. He looked over at the younger man and smirked "You know there ain't a stallion." Heath nodded pulling his horse to a halt. "What is it you want, Sanders?" he asked the man when he rode even with Heath. "You and I are going to pay the neighbors a little visit." Heath frowned. Sanders crossed his arms resting them on the saddle horn. "See Mr. Barkley, this is cow country. Has been, always will be." Sanders looked over the land where they sat then lifted his arm pointing, "Just over that rise is the enemy. They must be taught that this is cow country and we have no intention of letting sheep graze on the grass that we need for cattle." Heath let out a heavy sigh, "So you want me to help you start a range war?" Sanders smiled. "You catch on quick." He kicked his horse into a lope and Heath resentfully followed.

Nick had ridden back to Green River to send off the wire to Jarrod. He was stepping out of the telegraph office when a thin grizzly looking man stopped him. Thinking that he had bumped into him Nick apologized and started to leave, the older man grabbed his arm.

"Mr. Barkley, I am Herb Nobler, sheriff of Green River. You got a minute?" he asked as he released Nicks arm. Turning to face him Nick asked, "What seems to be the problem?"

"It might not be anything. I just need to ask you some questions." the Sheriff looked around "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" Puzzled Nick nodded and followed the sheriff into the Blue Bird.

Taking a seat and served coffee, the sheriff hesitantly asked, "How long have you known Steve Lewis?"

Nick took a sip of his coffee studying the older man over the brim of his cup. "Met him at a cattle auction in Denver, Colorado, I'd say it was about two years ago. I don't really know him." the sheriff nodded then pushed on.

"Lewis has been here for almost 14 years. He had bought his ranch from Mrs. Johnston. Her husband had been killed in the war." Nobler glanced out into the street; he knew that he didn't need to give Mr. Barkley a history lesson. He needed the time to feel the man out, to get a better understanding of him. Nobler cleared his throat. "Ahh, your brother…" he trailed off when he seen Nicks jaw tighten. He cleared his throat again and dove into the question, "Is he a gunfighter?" Nick leaned back in his chair, letting a brief smile show on his face.

"Heath is good with a hand gun and better with a rifle. To answer your question, no he isn't a gunfighter." Nick noticed that the sheriff seemed to relax a bit, but still wore the worried look.

"Is there something else that I need to know sheriff? Is Heath in any trouble?" asked Nick leaning forward in his chair concern filling his eyes. Nobler nodded, "I think that Lewis is using your brother and this gunfighter reputation to start a range war."

Nick narrowed his eyes with concern, thinking that it explained his brother's actions of late. Looking at Nobler he asked, "What do you want from me?" Nobler hesitated when the server stopped to refresh his coffee. "We need your help, to stop Lewis." the voice came from a tall man with wide shoulders and narrow hips. His dressed as a cowhand and moved with ease of one who knew how to handle himself. Before taking a seat, he stuck his hand out, "Joe Causemaker, U.S. Marshal." he introduced himself. Nick shook the man's hand as he sat down.

Riding up to where Sanders sat on his horse, Heath looked over the land. In the distance, he could see a flock of sheep. Short shrill whistles drifted to where the two riders sat, as the Shepard guided his dog to the position that best kept the flock together. Heath watched as the black and white dog moved quickly to obey the commands. Sanders had pulled his rifle out of the scabbard.

"What are you are you planning to do Sanders?" asked Heath even though he had a good idea. Sanders smiled, "Told ya this is cattle country. We need to get rid of those sheep." Heath didn't like the idea, but he was convinced that they would keep their promise. If he didn't help them, they wouldn't just kill Nick, they would go after the whole family. Letting loose a heavy sigh, Heath pulled his rifle also. Sanders laughed shaking his head. He lowered the rifle, "Tomorrow night, we're going to have us a bit of fun!" Sanders face turned serious, "You meet me here, at nine o'clock." he moved his horse closer to Heath's and leaned over so that he was mere inches from Heath's face, "If your not here, your brother will be dead!"

Chapter 4

Marshal Causemaker took a seat next to the sheriff. Nick recognizing, the marshal as the cowboy that had played poker with Heath the night before, gave him a smile. Not one to beat around the bush, Causemaker got straight to the point. "Your brother was in the war. Part of a sharpshooter outfit?"

Nick nodded his head "Yea. Like I told the sheriff, he's real handy with that rifle." He took a sip of his coffee, not liking where this conversation was heading. Nevertheless, if Heath was in trouble, then he was going to be there to help his little brother and that meant listening to the marshal. Setting the cup back onto the table, he glared at the two officers. "So what you're saying is that Lewis is trying to start this war by allowing sheep onto the range. Then letting my brother do the dirty work by picking off a few shepherds? Why would Lewis go through all the trouble? Heath wouldn't go along with that! Unless…" he trailed off thinking.

"Unless, they are using something or someone against him." pushed Joe.

Nick sat for a moment and then his eyes went dark "They're using me to get to him," he growled, realization hitting him, "Lewis is using me, to get Heath to do what they want."

Joe asked the next question, "Do you know where your brother could be right now?"

Nick waved his hand with impatience, "Sanders, took him out to Moss Peak to look at a stallion."

The marshal and the sheriff looked at each other. "Mr. Barkley, Jerry Sanders is a hired gun," informed Nobler. "And the only thing at Moss Peak is a sheep camp."

Nick stood up so fast that he nearly knocked over his chair. "I have to find Heath!"

"Just a minute, simmer down!" replied the sheriff. "You asked why Lewis is doing this. He is doing this to scare the sheepherder. If the cattlemen sell out and the sheepherders don't move in, who gains? This is more of a land grabbing deal. With no one to oppose Lewis, he has free reign over the whole basin. Lewis didn't lose as many cattle as the rest of the ranchers."

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The sun was setting behind the hills as Heath and Sanders rode back towards town. At a fork in the road they stopped. Sanders smirked, "Better keep in mind what I've told ya, Barkley, and I'll see ya tomorrow." Kicking his horse, Sanders took the road to the right, towards Lewis's Ranch, leaving Heath alone on the dirt road that headed towards Green River.

Heath watched as Sanders rode away. Making up his mind, he kicked his horse into a lope and headed back toward the sheep camp. As he rode, Heath kept an eye on his back trail, making sure he wasn't followed. Topping the hill, where a few hours ago he and Sanders had sat, Heath took in the camp below.

The camp was nestled between the hills, protected from the winds that blew across the treeless landscape; he continued to watch the shepherd and the dog. He counted two tents and two sheep wagons parked on either side of the tents. Women were working around a fire, preparing the evening meal, the smells of the cooking food was muted by the overpowering smell of sheep, while the men sat around the fire, talking. Hearing the sounds of the approaching horse, the camp became still.

Hostile eyes watched him approach. Heath was not expecting a grand welcome; he just wanted to warn these men. Warning them would give them a chance to protect their families and stock.

Heath pulled Charger to a halt in front of the group that had assembled by the wagons. Two black and white dogs surged forward barking and snapping at Charger's heels. Charger began to prance, almost in place, instincts telling him to bolt. Heath murmured soft words to the horse and patted his neck trying to calm the spooked horse. The bay's ear's flicked back listening to the calm voice and the horse soon settled.

From the front of the group, a man of medium height stepped forward. His clothing had seen better days; the pants were baggy and the old coat was missing too many buttons to actually do any good against the cold. And despite the run down clothing, this man clearly had a strong determination, that against all odds, he was going to survive. "Cookie, Blu, that'll do!" At the command, both dogs returned to the man. Heath heard the shepherd praise the dogs, "Good lads, down." Both dogs lay at the man's feet, watching Heath, and ready to move at the man's command.

Heath let his gaze wander over the group. He counted ten men and three women. They were hard-working folks, trying to make a living raising sheep. They were weary from traveling and fighting, scraping out an existence in a land that didn't like sheep grazing on the grasses that would fatten the big rancher's cattle. They are proud people who would die fighting to protect their livelihood. Heath gave them a nod of his head and rested his eyes on the representative for the group.

"What do ya want?" asked the man, with a hint of a Scottish accent "We haven't been a killn' any of your cattle."

"No, sir that's not why I'm here," replied Heath. Shifting in his saddle, with a keen eye, he noticed the rifle barrels behind the sheep wagons, pointed his way. At least these people were cautious.

"Then what do ya want?" repeated the man. The strong smell of coffee drifted on the breeze and Heath's stomach growled, reminding him of the hour.

"Coffee sure smells good," commented Heath. The Jules McAllemond took a longer look at the man on the horse. He was different from the others that had come to the camp; he was willing to talk first. Jules turned his head to the group and lifted his chin. A woman picked up a cup, poured some coffee then stepped forward and handed it to Jules.

"Why don't ya step down and have a cup?" invited Jules. Slowly Heath dismounted and stepped in front of his horse holding onto one rein. All his movements were slow and purposeful. He took the offered cup of coffee, giving the man in front of him a slight smile; he stuck out his other hand.

"I'm Heath Barkley." He could read the surprise on the other man's face.

'Ahh, the gunfighter!" said Jules with a twinkle in his eyes. Heath grunted and smiled.

"I'm not a gunfighter."

Taking Heath's extended hand, "Jules McAllemond." he introduced himself. Jules turned to his right, "This is Ed Steele." A man similar in build as Jules stepped forward, taking Heath's hand.

"What can we do for you, Mr. Barkley?" asked Ed. Heath took a sip of the coffee. It was good; of course, Heath always liked coffee brewed over an open fire.

"I'd like to talk to ya."

"Go ahead, ain't nobody stopping you!" called a voice within the group. It brought a few chuckles. Heath nodded towards the wagon on the left.

"Don't feel real friendly, when ya got those rifles pointed at me, and me comin' in here all peaceable."

"We need to be cautious. If ya hadn't noticed sheep aren't exactly welcome," said Jules as he signaled to the men that it was all right. The rifles came down and the men stepped out from behind the wagons. Although, they looked relaxed, Heath knew that they were still on guard.

Ed made a gesture for Heath to take a seat by the fire. Dropping the rein of his horse, he followed the two men to the fire and took a seat. Jules and Ed took seats on the other side of the fire. The dogs followed in their wake.

Heath nodded towards the dogs, "Those are some fine sheepdogs." Jules looked to Ed.

"Sheep dogs he call'em! Why, those, Mr. Barkley, those two are not just sheepdogs, they are the finest that Scotland has to offer! They are Border Collies! They were brought over here by my great, great grandfather. Their bloodlines go back to the beginning of time! Why, they could stare a grizzly into hibernation in the middle of summer!"

"I didn't mean to offend ya, Mr. McAllemond. I admire a good working dog." Heath's words of peace brought a smile on Jules's face. At that moment Blu, the younger of the two Border Collies, cautiously approached Heath. Holding his hand out so that the dog could smell it, he soon found his hand on top of Blu's head and the dog moved closer.

"How many head do you have?" asked Heath looking out over the flock as he softly stoked Blu's head.

"There are 5,000 head here and another 4,000 coming up from New Mexico," said Jules.

"Winters can be rough on stock."

Ed grunted then took a sip of his coffee. "This was the worst winter I've seen. We had deep snow, followed by a thaw, and then a freeze. There was a sheet of ice so thick over the ground that the cattle couldn't graze on the grass, causing the cattle to starve. Come round up, I had eight steers out of eighty-seven head. The Spur Ranch took a loss; they ran 15,000 head and at spring round up, they had 800 head left. " He set his cup down as one of the women handed him a plate of food. "I figured that the profit and loss of raising sheep will be the same as cattle."

Heath accepted the plate that was handed to him. "When did the trouble start between you and the cattlemen?" he asked taking a bite of the stew.

"When the first sheep herds arrived, early in the spring. The Spur Ranch declared this land off limits to sheep. A few other ranches went along with it." Ed finished his stew and looked at Heath. "Fence sheep in, fence cattle out."

"Mr. Barkley, you still haven't told us why you're here," said Jules.

Heath handed his plate to a woman, who appeared to collect the empty plates and topped off his coffee, "Mr. McAllemond, some of the cattlemen have decided to raid your camp. I'm here to warn ya."

"What makes you think that we believe you?" asked Jules," I seen who you was talking to on the hill." He turned to the group, "It was Sanders, one of Lewis's hired hands!" He turned back to Heath as a quiet roar went through the crowd.

"You don't have to believe me, I just don't like seeing good folks pushed around. As for Sanders, my brother and I came here to buy horses." Heath stood, facing the group.

Ed stepped forward, "What exactly is your role in this raid, Mr. Barkley? We hear the rumors in town. We knew you were coming." Knowing that the polite conversation was over, Heath moved back to his horse, with Blu at his heels. He picked up the rein, looked at the ground, then back to Ed.

"I'll be riding with them tomorrow night." Ed heard the soft answer and the regret in the tone and in the man's eyes. This man rode out here to warn them, to give them a chance to save their families and stock, but at what cost to him?

Heath vaulted into the saddle, spun Charger around, and rode off into the darkness towards town. Blu started to follow until Jules hollered, "Blu, here." The young dog looked back at Jules, then back out into the darkness.