I do not own any of the characters or places mentioned or shown in "Big Valley." I'm not sure who does, but I hope they don't mind me filling in the blanks with no financial compensation for doing so, just out of love for the show. :)

He woke at dawn. The sky promised it would be a fine day. Hot maybe. He couldn't see a sign of a cloud. The air was still and stifling.

He broke camp. Then he saddled and loaded up his horse. Heath only traveled with all a man needed: full-enough saddle-bags, a bedroll, and a rifle. His Modoc pony was ready to fly at a moment's notice. He pointed the horse's nose toward the mountains. He'd like to be in the cool of their shadows long before noon.

. . .

Near noon, hours after crossing into those same mountains, his pony heard the river. The beast's gait picked up. Heath's own body tightened at the sight of white froth floating atop rushing water. His eyes narrowed, and not just because the sunlight bounced off the river's surface at them. On the other side of that water lay his destiny. Ridicule, inheritance, fists, bullets any of those might come his way over there.

He road alongside the river for a time looking for "still waters" to let his horse drink from and cross through. He found better, a bridge. He let his mount drink as much as was good for it, then pointed the pony in the direction of the structure of dark wood. Another man coming from the opposite direction had the same idea.

Heath's horse stepped onto the bridge. So, did the other man's. Heath's mount passed between a pair of trellises. The other man's did the same. When the noses of the horses were less than a horse-length apart on the part of the bridge that sagged between pairs of trellises, the mounts stopped.

Heath tried to size up the horse and man in front of him. The other rider seemed to do the same. He spoke first. Heath always let the other person speak first if he wasn't looking for a job and sometimes when he was. If you were quiet long enough, you usually found out what was on the other person's mind, and they didn't have to find out what was on yours.

He gave back the man's greeting. Then the stranger complimented his horse. Heath agreed with the compliment. The man guessed right about where he got the horse. Heath filled in a little more detail. He was proud of his Indian pony.

The stranger paid another worthy compliment to his mount. He did know a thing or two about horse-flesh, Heath gave him that, within his own mind at least. There was one thing he was not going to give this man though, and he let him know it. Politely, but firmly, showing it wasn't "truly" his, or the other man's, or anybody else's fault, but was just the way things were, he explained his Modoc could only move forward over this bridge.

The stranger was clever. He played Heath's own card against him. Heath could learn to respect this man. If they both lived through this.

Heath did what often served him well during lulls in conversation. He commented on the weather. His words had a hidden meaning this time. If this man and his horse were as hot as he and his, the stranger and his sweaty, Modoc pony could go for a little swim courtesy of him. Heath and his own would do the same if it wouldn't have meant admitting defeat.

Heath didn't have much to lose, just his horse and what was on him, including himself. Two women back in Strawberry might cry over him as they had his mama. He couldn't go back to them, though, and tell both he'd been too scared to act on the information his mama gave him on her deathbed. If he couldn't face down one stranger on a bridge, how'd he face those who'd try to deny him his inheritance?

The man complimented his gun. Again, Heath filled in the little part the stranger had missed about it. The man showed off his own weapon. Heath pushed for a little more information on it. The man gave it and then some. Heath didn't believe him. Maybe the other man didn't believe him either. They'd both have to prove what they'd said.

They were in the process of doing just that, when the bridge broke out from under them. They both got that refreshing ride after all. They also both ended up on the opposite side of the river they'd started on.

As Heath's mount climbed up the riverbank, he watched its hooves, making sure they found steady ground. Then he glanced over his shoulder. The other man was doing the same thing. He gave Heath a slight smile. Heath gave him back the same. Then he turned and headed toward his destiny again.

Heath smiled to himself a few times as the river-water evaporated off his shirt and mount's sides. Who knew? Depending on how the stranger on his Modoc felt about the Barkleys, and how sore he was over his swim, maybe he'd just made a friend.

Tell me what you thought. :)

God Bless

ScribeofHeroes