Title: What Might Have Been

Author: Corbin

Rating: PG-13 **DEATH FIC*

Summary: Something's bothering Rowdy.

**Grey, thanks for looking this over. I hope that it's right this time!**

It's been a while since I last rode as a trail boss; been years in fact since I've been able to do much of anything. I didn't even get to finish my last drive.

Now before you go getting the wrong idea, I'm not one to up an quit in the middle of a drive. No matter how bad things were I had every intention of seeing that drive through to the Sedalia railhead.

Seems that sometimes fate has a way of pushing against me and I guess things turn out the way they were intended. I don't want to complain or anything, I don't have many regrets. Besides it's not like things would change if I wanted it. There is one thing though…I wish that I would have had the sense to see the warning signs when they were there staring me in right the face.

My ramrod, Rowdy Yates, was never given to worry about much of anything that didn't have to do with a decent looking girl. During my last drive I knew that something had been bothern' him. I tried my best to be patient with him, give him some time to work through whatever had him so wound up. Well, it'd nearly been two weeks and he hadn't improved at all. He seemed to have gotten worse in the time I'd expected he'd be feeling all right again. It seemed to me that the boy wanted to work himself to death.

To be honest I had started to think of Rowdy as my angry shadow, instead of seeing him as my ramrod. The stubborn kid refused to leave me alone when I was on the trail. The boy was giving the orders I'd given him to the newer drovers who didn't know any better so that he could spend his every waking moment following me around the plains.

"Listen, if something's wrong you're better off telling me of your own accord," I stated as I loosened the main cinch to my saddle and glanced over at Rowdy. He swallowed hard not wanting to tell me anything.

I continued the process of removing the saddle from my horse. As I peeled the saddle away from my sweat dampened mount a gentle, cool breeze blew by me. I could hear the herd as it crooned softly with the crickets in the cool night air. Boy, the weather was nice out. For a moment I allowed the gentle starlight to distract me from my interrogation of the ramrod.

"Nothing's wrong, Boss," Rowdy mumbled as he once again avoided eye contact. I watched as he shifted his weight from one boot to the other. We both knew that he was holding something back.

I nodded at his response despite the fact that I didn't believe him and kept my eye on him. "Rowdy, you're tired. Go get some shuteye," I gestured toward camp with my saddle. The boy had started to shake his head in refusal before I had even had the chance to finish my sentence.

"I don't need to sleep," Rowdy argued as he tried to steady a weary gaze.

"Yes, you do. I can't use a wore out ramrod. Get some rest or you won't be ramrodding for me much longer," Rowdy wasn't listening to me. I knew that glazed look in his eye all too well. He looked at me the way the steers always had, no comprehension of anything worth reasoning.

A few seconds later a small smile had crept over my ramrod's face. "You mean you'd fire me again?" He laughed reminding me of a drunken man.

I couldn't see what he found so funny about losing his job, but obviously he no longer viewed unemployment as a threat. "Well, either that or you'll drop dead. I'm not sure which will come first."

Rowdy locked eyes with me, his reason seemed to have come back to him. "Mr. Favor, you can order me to ride flank, scout, nighthawk and even drag. I guess you can try and order me to bed down, but that's not really an order you or anybody else can enforce," There was a slight hint of heat in his tone, typical Rowdy defiance.

"You'd be surprised," I said softly as I briefly contemplated having the boy hogtied and thrown into the supply wagon for a few days. After a little spell I decided against the chuck wagon, it'd probably have done him more harm then good in the long run anyway.

Rowdy acted as though he hadn't heard what I had just said. Other times he might have taken the words as some sort of a challenge, but not that night. As I stood there my stomach rumbled loudly in protest of my dead-end argument with the boy. My saddle had started to grow heavier with each moment that passed and my arms were starting to burn. It was well past time for supper; I had used my normal time for dinner fussing over the cattle and Rowdy. My belly growled loudly once more and I decided that it was time to pay the chuck wagon a visit.

"Well Rowdy, I don't know what you wanna do, but I'm gonna go get some chow," I turned away from the remuda and hoisted my deadweight saddle over my shoulder. I headed into camp to drop my saddle near my bedroll. Rowdy stumbled wearily behind me as I knew he would.

As I stepped up to the chuck wagon Mushy approached and carefully handed the ramrod and I fresh mugs of coffee. I gave Mushy a silent nod of thanks and took a small sip of the strong brew.

"I thought you two'd never come in for your share of chow. Thought maybe you'd run into some trouble. I almost sent Mushy out to hunt for you both," Wishbone grumbled at me in a sarcastic tone as he ladled stew and biscuits onto two plates. Wish handed Rowdy and I the still hot food. How that man kept the food from growing cold is still a mystery to me, but I guess that's what I paid the man for.

"Thanks Wish," I said as the cook shot me a mock irritated glare.

I went and took a seat near the low burning fire, Rowdy followed suit in an obligated manner. Immediately I started in on my stew, it tasted better than it had on most nights. That could have been because I was starved, or it might have been something that Wishbone did, either way I didn't care.

As I chewed a piece of my biscuit that I had dipped in stew broth I looked up at Rowdy. He was picking at his stew with his spoon in a forlorn manner, he didn't seem to be interested in his food at all. A few seconds later his belly growled loud enough that I heard it clearly, he looked up at me and thought about saying something. The boy sat there with his thoughts half stuck in his partly opened mouth. After debating internally for a moment he decided not to share what he'd been meaning to say.

"Are you gonna tell me you're not hungry too?" I asked using a little piece of biscuit to scoop up some more stew. Rowdy glanced up at me and then back down at the cooling food on his plate. He grumbled something about eating and sleeping being a sorry waste of good time. It was odd to hear him say those things; I knew right away that he hadn't meant a word of it. Fatigue was speaking for him that night and he was becoming as irrational as a pig drunk on fermented apples.

There was a long period of silence between us. I had long since finished eating, while Rowdy had barely given his meal a second glance. The ramrod sat watching the dying fire as it danced beneath the red coals. He seemed entranced by the primitive glow of the flames.

"Listen Rowdy," As I spoke I tried to keep my voice as non-threatening as possible. "You better start looking after yourself. A man can only deprive himself of sleep and a good meal for so long. Eventually something in you is gonna give out."

Rowdy glared at me, he completely resented every word that had just come out of my mouth. The embers from the campfire gave his unfriendly stare a seething glow.

"You know what Boss?" The boy paused as if he wanted me to speak before he continued with his rant, "Maybe I'm not the one you ought to worry for." Rowdy's gaze burned into mine until he pulled away to glower at the dying flames once more. "You know every time I've had this talk with you you've never listened to me. Not even one single time did you bother to hear me out. I should have known that you would be no different tonight," Rowdy spoke to me in a low almost frustrated tone.

"What do you mean by that? Rowdy, we've never talked about anything like this until tonight," I prodded him trying to get whatever was frustrating him out in the open air.

"I didn't mean nothing. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry, that wasn't fair," Rowdy's tone suddenly turned apologetic, he was trying real hard to get me to leave him alone.

"No, now you're not backing out of this. Tell me what's got you all riled," I stated firmly, Rowdy shook his head in refusal. Even as tired as he was he was still as stubborn as ever.

"I don't want to talk about it. All I'm gonna say is you can't go out to the herd alone," Rowdy replied still staring at the withering flames.

"What do ya mean…I can't go out to the herd alone?" I paused and took a deep breath, "Rowdy, I'm not gonna be able to have somebody with me every minute when I'm on the trail."

"I know…I've heard this before," Rowdy whispered in a tone that sounded almost mournful, "When you go out there alone is when it'll happen. I won't be fast enough to help you. That's why I can't leave you to yourself with the cattle. When I'm with you nothing will happen."

"Rowdy…that don't make a bit of sense. You think that when I go out alone something's gonna happen?"

Rowdy nodded solemnly, "I don't think it, Boss…I know it." His expression pleaded for the slightest bit of belief from me, I wasn't sure if I was willing to give him what he wanted.

"Rowdy, how can you be so sure?"

"You know…you never did believe me all the other times I told you this. I hoped that this time things would turn out different. You know like maybe you'd take my word for it or something, but it looks like things are gonna go badly again."

I shook my head, Rowdy sounded like he completely lost it. He stood up and stormed over to me; I stood to be at eye level with him.

"You would think, Mr. Favor, being the great trail boss that you are that you would have listened to me at least once. But what do I know? I'm just the Ramrod," Rowdy's voice was filled with anger and sarcasm; his hands were shaking.

"Well Boss, it won't happen tonight. I can assure you of that," Rowdy growled before he stormed off into the darkness.

I'm not entirely sure why I allowed Rowdy to leave like that. I suppose I let him go because I wasn't in the mood to try and stop him. Even as worn out as he was he would've put up a fight. There was probably more fight in him then I was willing to chance. Not that I wouldn't have been able to whip him. I'm pretty sure that I had experience and vitality in my favor, I was more or less well rested compared to Rowdy.

I sat and watched what was left of the campfire as it struggled to burn the empty coals. The coffee in my mug was lukewarm and no longer worth drinking. After giving the black liquid a little swirl in the tin mug I flung the unwanted drink into the barely glowing embers. As I stood up I felt a bit stiff, I had probably sat too long. Spent all day planted in a saddle and then a few hours jawing near the campfire. I guess I had stiffness due to me.

On my way to my bedroll I dropped my empty coffee mug by the chuck wagon. I dragged myself to my bedroll and dropped down finding it to be no softer then any other night. I suppose that I fell asleep pretty fast. I couldn't tell you for certain, being that I can't remember nothing.

A few hours later I woke myself. It was time for some of the nighthawk riders to come in and my turn to go out and hum at the herd for a while. I rolled up my bedroll and tied to my saddle, which was still on the ground at my bed site. I hefted the saddle up onto my shoulder and trudged to the remuda to fetch my horse.

Gently I set my saddle blanket on my horse's back and straightened the material out to keep it from rubbing in a bad way. Carefully I settled the saddle on the horse's back, I had just started to pull the cinches around the horse. Somebody was behind me, probably another night hawker on his way out. I was about to turn around to greet whoever it was when I got hit hard behind my left ear.

There had been a lot of power behind that blow, it nearly sent me to my knees. While I watched my hat flutter to the ground I fought a brief battle to stay on my feet. I recovered enough to turn toward my attacker, it was of course my ramrod. Tentatively I reached back and felt the knot that was brooding on my skull, when I brought my hand forward blood stained my fingertips. Dazed, I blinked and glared unbelievingly at Rowdy.

"Boy, when you give somebody a smash on the head like that you'd better be sure and get him down on the first blow. Otherwise you're in for some trouble," As I spoke My head pounded, I could hear the pounding clearly in my ears and damned if I was feeling dizzy. It was like I was in a drunken swoon. Rowdy grimaced at my threat and then steeled his features. Whatever he had planned he was determined to go through with it.

"Sorry Boss, but this is for your own good. I don't feel up to following you tonight, so I figured you could use some extra rest," Rowdy gave me a hard stare, he looked like he was prepared to pounce on me again at any moment.

I nearly stumbled, I felt dizzy again, probably got a little concussion. Rowdy took a step closer to me to make a proposition, "I promise I won't hit ya again if you say you won't go out tonight."

"You know that I have to tend the herd Rowdy. They can't be left to themselves," I had work to do, I wasn't gonna let Rowdy's paranoia or my mild concussion keep me from it.

Rowdy smiled and shook his head, "All right, have it your way boss."

Most of the details of the fight from that night are a hazy blur thanks to Rowdy's pistol whippin'. I do recollect rolling in the dirt as I tried to keep Rowdy from accomplishing his goal of putting me out of action for the rest of the night. Between dodging the remuda horses' hooves and Rowdy's fists it was almost better to risk a black eye then a stepped on hand from one of the horses.

As we wrestled one another a couple of night hawkers who were coming in for the night halted when they saw us fighting. Rowdy's lip was bleeding and so was his nose, but he was crouched on top of me wailing the tar out of my left ear. The nighthawk riders yanked Rowdy off of me kicking and screaming.

I lay there in the dirt and listened to my pounding head. I tried to allow myself some time to recover a little clarity. Quince stood over me, I saw him ask if I was okay, but I never heard the words. There wasn't anyway to fight myself, I was going to have to consent to Rowdy's wishes. At least this way the sickening pounding in my head would leave me alone for a while.

When my senses finally returned to me the sun had already come up over the horizon. Somebody had carried me to a bedroll, I glanced around as soon as my pounding head would stand for it. I caught site of Rowdy a few feet away from me. He was lying on his belly, his hands tied behind him. He was also fast asleep and slobbering on his bedroll like a baby. That image still brings a smile to my face.

By the look of things it was around seven in the morning, and it appeared that things were not moving forward. Even with me out for a few hours the other crewmembers should've at least got the herd moving out. It was bad to disrupt the routine, if you could call it that, disruptions tended to make the crew and the cattle even more disagreeable.

"How ya feeling Mister Favor?" Wishbone asked softly as he knelt beside me. I sat up slowly and gently rubbed my eyelids.

"Well, I've been better Wish," I answered with a small grimace, my head still hurt, not as bad as last night, but still bad enough to trouble me. "How's Rowdy doin'?"

"Oh, that stubborn cuss should be his normal self once he rests enough. Force fed him some tonic to help him sleep after we dragged you both into camp. Other then a swollen lip thanks to that fight; he'll be fine."

"That's good to hear," I whispered as I realized how much I missed Rowdy's normal behavior. "What's going on with the herd? Doesn't look like we're moving at all."

Wishbone swallowed and then started to speak softly, "Well, shortly after you and Rowdy were brought into camp there was a stampede. Nobody got hurt, but the cattle scattered themselves pretty well. Everybody who can sit a saddle is out after the lost ones."

I didn't say anything, just nodded. I wondered if the stampede was what had been bothering Rowdy, it would have helped explain his actions. No telling how he knew though, since not many folks can see the future.

After the herd had been gathered up I felt well enough to be in my saddle. It wasn't too late to push the beeves forward a little ways, so that was what I ordered be done. I figured even a little progress was good progress. A few of the men put Rowdy in the supply wagon, I ordered he be left tied up. I intended to release him once he woke up and I was sure he wasn't going to go ballistic on me again. For the time being he was still dead to the world.

Rowdy slept the entire day until the herd was ready to bed down in the evening. I had him moved near where the campfire was just in case it got cool during the night. When he woke up hours later I heard him grumbling in protest of the ropes that were still on his wrists. I borrowed a buck knife from Wishbone and sauntered over to Rowdy.

"Get enough sleep?" I asked softly as I knelt and started to cut his hands loose. Rowdy mumbled something in reply, but I wasn't able to interpret it. Once he was free of the ropes I moved away a little bit to give him some room.

"Thanks Boss," Rowdy whispered as he pushed himself into a sitting position. He rubbed his wrists and glanced up at me. "What time is it?" Rowdy asked as he stifled an involuntary yawn.

"Nearly supper time, herd's almost bedded down for the night," I answered, he nodded as he tried to assimilate how much time he'd lost to sleep.

"Boss, I…I'm real sorry about last night. I didn't hurt you did I?"

"No, I ain't hurt so bad I haven't started on the mend by now. Besides, maybe your hunch was right."

"What do ya mean?"

"The herd stampeded last night," The look on Rowdy's face was a mix between relief and bewilderment.

"That's…well, that's all I could see when I tried to sleep. This dream about arguing with you by the fire and then the stampede. Only the outcome never changed, it was never like this. It was…well, always real bad, for you anyway. I started seeing this dream every time I closed my eyes. It made me sick to try and sleep, I just couldn't let that nightmare become reality."

"Well Rowdy, I can't say that I don't appreciate the effort you gave," I locked eyes with him, my expression became a little more stern. "If something like that starts bothering you again you can tell me about it. I'm willing to hear you out. I'd rather spend a few minutes talking to you then a few weeks watching you lose your head. No sense in you worrying yourself ragged over the things that mighta been."

I lightened up my tone slightly, "I ought to fire you for hitting me like ya did," Rowdy swallowed hard feeling a bit sheepish all of the sudden. "But under the circumstances I'm willing to give you another chance. That is…if you're feeling up to it."

Rowdy nodded, he had no desire to quit; just as I had no real desire to fire him. I put out my hand, he gratefully accepted it returning a worthy handshake.

Over the next week Rowdy was a completely different person. No longer my angry shadow, he had happily returned to his work in better spirits then I'd seen him in for a long time. It was real good to see him back to his old self. I'd have never told him aloud, but he had me worried there for a while.

A few days later on a calm morning just as the dawn was approaching the herd stampeded once more. Beeves aren't like people, they don't need no reason to panic. Often they run just because they're following the steer in front of them. I screamed for the night hawkers to get the leaders turned away from the camp. The cattle were headed straight for the campsite and had they stormed it we would have been in a bad way. There were sleeping men who would've been trampled, I couldn't afford to lose members of my crew like that, it was hard enough keeping a full crew when the cattle were placid. Thankfully we were able to get the cattle turned before they were able to rush the camp. Most of the cattle had started to mill and soon they'd be all settled.

Now just because a steer is trail broke don't mean he's gentle at all. A lot of things help determine the temperament of a steer and bad blood can make a steer as mean as a hornet. Out of the corner on my eye I spotted a steer that had fixed on me. My horse was boxed in, I was forced to stand my ground.

The other cattle made way for the bad tempered steer and allowed room for him to plow into my horse. The impact of the steer's horns ripped through my horse's left rear leg, tore it roughly through to the bone. My mount made a sound that I never wanted to hear again as pain bludgeoned through him and he faltered a little. It amazed me that my mount kept his footing, the steer backed up to try and kill us a second time. His second attack connected with the same side of the horse on his front end snapping the foreleg loose at the knee. Stay up, please stay on your feet. Just a little longer. That ornery steer still hadn't satisfied his blood lust and he came for us again.

The final blow flung the horse and I roughly to the ground. The wind was completely knocked out of me from the fall and I was up to my midsection under my mount's body. My horse struggled to get to his feet and out of the way of the remaining cattle, none of the cattle wanted to break a leg on a horse so thankfully they maneuvered around us.

I pulled the reins tight, curled my mount's head to his shoulder and for the moment he stopped fighting me. My horse's nostrils flared as he struggled for breath, dirt and blood coated us both. There was blood everywhere from my horse and he didn't have long to live.

Pain seared through me as my horse thrashed around violently again, he really didn't want to give up on standing. I screamed at him to stop it, not only was he hurting me he was killing himself faster by moving that way. I tightened my fierce grip on the reins and for the moment the horse relaxed. I remained quiet as I tried to catch my breath; I could hear somebody as their horse slid to a stop nearby.

"Sweet Jesus," I recognized Rowdy's voice, he sounded shaken and out of breath. It hurt me to move so I stayed still. As Rowdy stepped around where I could see him more clearly he cupped his hand over his mouth and turned his back on me for a moment. I knew it was probably a gruesome sight. My hip was all outta joint and I was lying in a growing pool of horse blood. My mount caught sight of the ramrod, with a whinny he struggled to stand once more. I screamed out at him in objection.

"Hold still you damn horse!" My tone was more of a plea of desperation then a cry of anger. I couldn't be angry with that horse, it was only his nature to want to get up and out of danger.

"You're alive," Rowdy whispered in surprise as he rushed to kneel beside me. Not for long I thought, but I never allowed the thought a voice.

"Is the herd under control, Rowdy?" He was looking at my twisted hip, the boot still lodged in the stirrup, the horse blood covering me, the mount and the ground. Rowdy nodded as he mercifully blinded my horse with his bandana.

My horse struggled again, I suppose in response to my voice. My grip on the gelding's reins had started to slip; I squeezed my eyes shut and drew in a sharp breath. As I fought to stay steady my hands had started to shake from the effort of holding my horse down.

Rowdy reached for his revolver, something I couldn't have done if I had wanted to. My weapon was pinned securely between the ground and my undamaged right hip and further blocked by the mass of my gelding's weight. I shuddered slightly as Rowdy fired the round, but in a way it was relief both for me and my horse. In my lifetime I had put down many horses, but this one's death made my mortality seem even closer now.

After a few seconds I relaxed my grip on the reins and allowed the gelding's head to slip down into the dirt. Rowdy holstered his gun and moved around behind me. He gripped me under the arms, he was just about to try and drag me out from under my horse's body. I clenched my jaw as Rowdy adjusted his grip under my arms and he began to pull back.

"Rowdy!" I cried out in agony. "Rowdy, for heaven sakes stop it! Stop it please! Put me down!" I screamed as loud as I could, but it took a few moments to pierce through his thoughts of helping me. It felt a lot worse to be helped then it felt to have him leave me be. Once my protests sunk in he set me back down in the blood and the dirt.

"Rowdy, please don't try to move me. I don't think I can stand to me moved," I softened my voice as I knew he was only doing what he thought to be in my best interests. My eyes squeezed shut and a warm tear escaped and drizzled down my dirt covered cheek, I swallowed as I tried to ignore the pain throbbing through my entire being.

"But Boss, I can't just leave you lying here under that horse. We've gotta get back to camp where I can get ya some help," Rowdy pled with me.

"Ain't nothing to be done for me. I don't think I can be helped," I knew that as those words came from my mouth Rowdy tried to forget he'd heard them.

It was becoming more difficult for me to focus, as my vision blurred I knew it was scaring the hell out of poor Rowdy. I knew without really knowing that I was staring out at nothing. Rowdy tried to get me to come back to him.

"Rowdy, keep the drive going," I spoke to him without looking at him, I wasn't really sure he was still there to hear me.

I tried real hard not to think of all the things I had left unsaid between Rowdy and I. I heard his voice call out to me softly once more and I knew he felt lost and unsure of what to do for me. As my vision returned I couldn't breathe. It felt like I was drowning, all the gasping for air in the world wouldn't have done me one bit of good. I choked in a fit for a few moments and brought up some of the blood that was filling my lungs. It felt a bit easier to breathe then.

"Oh God. Please don't do this, Boss," As Rowdy pled he barely breathed out the words, but somehow I managed to hear what had been uttered and never intended for my ears.

Gently Rowdy put a hand on my shoulder, with effort I reached up and gripped his fingers as tightly as I could manage.

With a brutal jerk my thoughts suddenly shifted to my daughters. I wondered how they would remember me and I silently prayed that I had spent enough time with them to create at least a few decent memories. It occurred to me then that most folks don't speak badly of the dead, especially if the dead man happens to be their daddy.

I returned to Rowdy, "Don't you let this keep you from finishing the drive. A good trail boss will finish the drive come hell or high water," I saw Rowdy cringe as I uttered the words "trail boss".

My focus was slipping again. Back to my girls, to all the special things I wouldn't be there for. All the holidays, the birthdays …hell, their weddings. I thought about the grandchildren I'd never get to meet.

As I returned to Rowdy once again I knew I didn't have much time. Rowdy was telling me to be quiet, but I needed him to hear me out. "I know…I know this isn't how you wanted this to be…but please…just keep going. I'm asking you… as your friend."

"Don't worry, Boss. We'll finish the drive," Rowdy forced a small smile as he tried to be positive. Gently I squeezed his hand and returned the smile.

An intense pain tore through me, this time it was too much to bear. After I fought it for a few moments I allowed my body to relax and my final breath to be drawn and released. My grip on Rowdy's hand went slack and he backed away from me in shock. I wanted to comfort him, but I knew that wasn't really possible. I knew he'd be all right with some time.

I never did find out the cause for the stampede that night. I'll tell ya one thing, it'd better not have been a man that caused the stamped that brought me down. Because if I find out who it was that bastard's gonna pray for death. I suppose I'm still a little bitter about my death, I'm not gonna be able to put this behind me for a very long time.

I've had a bit of time on my hands and I figured that had I lived grandchildren and the whole bit would've suited me right fine. Bouncing kids on my knee in front of a warm fire. Not worrying about the next watering hole or the grazing lands up ahead. Not thinking about a thing. Just being happy for once. Yeah…that might have been real nice.

The End