Westward toPegasus

Chapter 2

Disclaimers: See chapter 1

Author's note: This story is not set specifically at one particular time or place, just in the late 19th or early 20th century somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. The war mentioned is a fictitious conflict.

Lorne had noticed the shock and suddenly pale features of his new neighbor. The man's reaction had come not during the discussion of the Wraith Gang and their activities, but at the specific mention of the leader. He filed away that information for later, and began distracting Sheppard by filling the order he had originally come in to purchase.

Even while preparing to depart the store, Sheppard still looked pale and was much less talkative than when he had first arrived. Lorne hoped the man would be all right. At least Sheppard was planning on staying in town tonight and not travelling out to his new home until the morning. Although the area had been settled for many years, dangers still lurked in these mountains and distractions could prove fatal.

Just as John was about to leave the shop, a man strode in and greeted Lorne's, 'Hey, Ronon,' with little more than a grunt. This man was tall, even slightly taller than John, and had the most extraordinary hair that Sheppard had ever seen; that was saying something considering the places he'd been. The man's locks were twisted into long ropes that covered his entire head, making him look even bigger and more menacing. John would have stopped to stare even longer, but one glance suggested that this man was bristling with weapons. Seeing as Lorne remained unconcerned, John simply nodded his farewell and ducked out the door.

After he had secured his supplies in his wagon, John headed over to the saloon, hoping for a hot meal before he turned in for the night. Once his eyes adjusted to the gloom of the building, John noticed a tall woman with blonde hair standing behind the bar telling one unruly patron in a no-nonsense tone that she would break his arm if didn't stop grabbing her right this second. John braced himself for a fight even though the woman looked like she could take care of herself. The patron obviously believed in her abilities, as well, as he quickly backed away from the bar, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so. The woman smirked before noticing John standing just inside the doorway.

"Sorry about that. Some men think they can do what they want simply because I'm a woman," she said, shrugging.

John wasn't going to argue. "It looks like you can take care of yourself," he said.

"My father was a soldier, and he made sure I knew how to defend myself," she said, shrugging. "By the way you're standing, I'm guessing you were military, too."

John just smiled and nodded, getting used to the odd feeling of being surrounded by soldiers but without all of the rules and regulations. "John Sheppard," he said, nodding.

"Samantha Carter," she said, nodding back. "We've got some steak and kidney pie in the oven, if you're hungry, Mr. Sheppard."

"That would be great, Miss Carter," he said.

"Please," she said, rolling her eyes. "Everyone here calls me Sam. I'll bring out a plate in a minute. You go have a seat."

John nodded his thanks and took a chair at a table one out from the corner. Old habits die hard, and this seat gave him a clear view of the bar and the rest of the room, as well as the door. He was probably safe here, but he could never let down his guard.

At the table in the corner sat two men, one of whom John recognized as the man from the schoolyard on his way into town earlier. Both men spoke with strange accents that John could not place. Soon they were joined by Rodney McKay and became embroiled in a loud discussion on some scientific topic. To his surprise, after Sam brought his supper and a drink, she joined the men at the other table and not only held her own in the conversation but was arguing complex scientific questions with McKay that John couldn't even pretend to understand.

John shook his head as he dug into his meal. Already he was learning that he had to expect the unexpected in this place.

O~o~O~o~O

John rose at first light after a night of tossing and turning, his mind plagued by one man: Acastus Kolya.

After a quick breakfast at the saloon, John hitched his horses to his wagon and began the final leg of his long journey. Following the main street to the opposite end of the town, John soon turned onto the trail that Elizabeth Weir had instructed him to take and settled in for the bumpy ride.

As he crested a hill, John noticed a figure walking the trail up ahead. The figure was carrying a heavy load, seemingly with little effort, and it didn't take long for John to identify the tall man with the crazy hair from the day before.

The man moved aside as he sensed John's wagon coming up behind him, but to his surprise, John stopped alongside him instead of continuing onward.

"Ronon, right?" John asked, remembering Lorne's greeting.

"Yeah, that's me. Lorne said we're going to be neighbors," Ronon answered succinctly, studying the man in front of him. Sheppard was a bit on the scrawny side and certainly didn't look like a fighter. The man's slouch and laid-back attitude made him appear almost lazy. The wagon contained only necessities – so he was either woefully unprepared or a simple man like Ronon himself. Sheppard's ease in the situation suggested the latter. Still, Ronon wasn't quite sure what to make of his new neighbor.

"Well, if I'm going in your direction, do you want a ride?" John asked, doing his own evaluation of the man standing beside him.

Ronon's assessment of the man before him told him that Sheppard was a good man and trustworthy. "Sure," he said, walking to the back of the wagon to put down his burden before hopping up on the seat next to Sheppard. Happy to see that Sheppard was prepared with a couple of shotguns at his feet, Ronon settled in.

"Let's go home."

O~o~O~o~O

Despite Elizabeth's directions, John was happy to have someone with local knowledge along for the ride. The two men chatted a bit, with Ronon filling John in with short sentences on the local landscape, the people, and any dangers that might arise. Neither man was a great talker, but their silences were comfortable, and John began to feel even more settled.

The wagon made its way along the track, occasionally passing a cabin or some grazing livestock. The landscape was lush and beautiful, and the air crisp and clean, unlike the cities John had left behind.

"There's my place," Ronon said, gesturing with his chin to the nearest cabin as they rounded the final curve on the road. "You're the last claim at the end; it's about half a mile.

"Who's in between us?" John asked, noticing some farm buildings between them and his farm.

"That belongs to my sister, Teyla," Ronon said, watching John's reaction. He swore the man perked up a bit at that, so before he climbed down to collect his supplies, he leaned into John's space and said in a low voice, "If you mess with her in any way, she'll shoot you. If she doesn't, I will."

With that, he gave John's shoulder a hard slap and climbed down. "Thanks for the ride." he said cheerfully, glad to see that the other man seemed to take his warning to heart. With a grin that he hoped was mostly (but not completely) devoid of intimidation, he added, "Stop by sometime!"

"Sure thing," John said, throwing a quick wave as he pulled away and covered the final distance to his new home.

TBC