CHAPTER TWO

SNAKES

TUESDAY

Heath, as usual, was the first one up the next morning, even though he had gotten up a few times during the night to check on things. He went towards the creek and stopped to water a tree. When he finished with his business, he noticed a giant garter snake resting not far away. Since the time Jarrod had put a snake in Nick's boot when they were camping, Nick slept with his boots on. Heath did as well, but his reason was so he could move quickly if he had to. But Eugene didn't. His boots were lying on the ground.

Heath stealthily snuck up on the snake and grabbed it under the jaw just as it was aware of him. It was an average size for a giant garter—about four feet. He took the other end in his left hand and silently made his way back to the camp.

When he got there, Eugene was still snoring. Nick sat on his bedroll, looking like he hoped someone was bringing coffee.

"Shhh," Heath said, showing the snake to Nick.

Nick didn't particularly care for snakes and leaned away from the critter.

"Hold Gene's boot for me," Heath whispered.

Nick grinned. He ran into the woods, then returned with a stick. He pulled a sock out of Gene's boot.

Heath carefully pushed the tail part of the snake into the boot. The snake, of course, wasn't happy about that and was fighting him until Nick had to use the stick to wind the center portion and shove it into the boot. As soon as Heath got the snake into the boot, Nick handed him the sock, which Heath shoved on top of it.

The smell of bacon and coffee wafted towards them.

"You stay here," Nick said. "I'll go get us some coffee and bacon."

Heath nodded.

By the time Nick made his way back to his brothers, many of the men were stirring. Nick held two cups of coffee in one hand and a third in the other. Cookie had given him a bag for bacon and biscuits, which he had pretty much filled and now clutched in the one-coffee hand.

Heath helped Nick set everything down while keeping an eye on the boot. "He tried to escape four times already."

"I don't think he likes his temporary home," Nick said, taking a drink of coffee. "Ready for the fireworks?"

"We'll wake up the rest of the camp."

"My intentions exactly." Nick shook Eugene's shoulder.

"What?" Eugene mumbled.

"Time to get up," Nick said. "Greet the beautiful morning."

"I hope you got coffee." Eugene sat up.

"Yep."

Eugene accepted a cup and took a few sips. "Be right back." He picked up the non-snaked boot first, put on his sock, and then pulled on the boot. He picked up the other boot. Just as he reached for the sock, the snake's head jumped out. "Holy crap!" Gene yelled and threw the boot.

The snake slithered out and meandered towards the woods—which also meant towards Gene.

Gene twirled in his one boot, trying to out-guess which way the snake was going.

By this time, an audience had gathered, all watching Gene prancing around the snake.

"I seen worst dancing at the saloon!" Junior Smith bellowed.

All the men laughed.

Even in the early dawn light, the redness of Gene's face was obvious.

The snake finally darted between Gene and Heath and returned to its preferred habitat.

"Who did that?" Eugene demanded. "You?" He pointed at Nick.

Nick was laughing so hard he couldn't answer.

Eugene's fists were tight. He pulled back to punch Nick, but Heath saw it coming and grabbed Gene's arm.

"No, no, no," Heath whispered near his ear. "You don't wanna do that."

"All right," Nick said loudly. "Show's over. You men go get some breakfast and we'll get outta here soon."

Heath still held the struggling Eugene.

As soon as the men dispersed, Nick turned to face Eugene. "I know you're mad, but you can't punch me. Or Heath. Least not here," he said softly. "You do that in front of the men, and we'd have to knock you flat. And we don't wanna do that."

Still, Eugene fought Heath's grip.

"Stop fighting me and I'll let you go," Heath said.

Gene relaxed, and Heath released him. Both the older men remained wary, though, watching their little brother's temper continue to burn.

"You heard what I told you," Nick reminded. "And, besides that, we'd have to send you home."

Gene pointed at Nick. "As soon as this drive is over, I'm gonna bust your mouth."

Nick nodded, keeping a straight face. "You can try to do that."

"I'm, uh, the one who did it," Heath admitted.

Gene swung to face Heath. As soon as his elbow darted back, Nick grabbed it, turning Eugene and taking his other arm as well. "Stop it, now. You can't hit Heath either."

Gene stopped fighting. "Let me go."

Nick released him. "You better go for a walk and cool off."

"I'm fine!" Gene yelled. "But as soon as we get home, I'm busting both of you."

"Okay. If you think you can do that, go right ahead. But right now, you better settle your britches and eat some breakfast." Nick offered him some bacon.

Eugene slapped it out of his hands.

Nick looked at Heath and rolled his eyes, then faced Eugene. "Boy, you got some growing up to do."

Gene put on his other boot and strode into the woods. It was bad enough they had to humiliate him, but to do it in front of the men? Every one of the drovers were laughing at him over that damn snake. He slammed a fist into a tree. The pain fed his anger, and he hit it again. This time, pain trumped anger. Not smart, Eugene, not smart.

Why had he even agreed to go on this drive? Oh, yeah. To get the respect of his brothers. Like that would ever happen. He would always be the baby brother. Baby brother. Why did he have to be the youngest? Jarrod, who had been more pappy to him than brother, was the only one who gave him any respect—and that was respect for his brains, not for his ability to be a man.

Eugene finally looked at his hand. Blood slowly seeped from his knuckles, which were skinned. Especially the center two. Damn it. Just damn it all.

"Eugene!" Nick bellowed. "We're moving out! C'mon!"

Gene slammed his fist into the tree one more time. Not as hard as before, but the pain was worse. Damn, damn, damn.

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At least Heath again took the drag position and let him ride flank. Eugene did his best to keep his mind on the job. His knuckles—in fact, his entire hand—ached. Worse, his hand sweated in the leather gloves, causing the open wounds to sting.

If only he could do something to impress his brothers—something to impress the entire group. Shoot a bear that threatened the herd. Stop a group of rustlers. Save someone from a rattler—or a stampede. Maybe then they would give him some respect.

Eugene scowled. No. He'd still be the youngest. He'd still be the baby.

"Eugene!"

Gene turned. Heath galloped towards him, pointing towards the right.

Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it!

Gene went after the stray, cutting him back into the herd. And doing a great job of it, even if he did say so himself.

But Heath still waited for him. "Pay attention, boy!" he yelled. "Get your head out of the clouds and do your job!"

Gene didn't even answer—or look at him. Bad enough having Nick yell at him. But Heath too?

The sun was already burning hot, he was already sweating, and his bottom and thighs were already sorer than yesterday. And they had the entire day to go. How would he make it through?

Eugene noticed several cattle getting more and more separated from the group. He tried to cut them back in, but the herd continued to fan out. After a few more tries of getting them together, he realized he'd lost control and couldn't keep up. He'd cut one in, and two would escape.

Panic churned in his gut. He'd done it now. They'd lose a lot of cattle, and it would be all his fault. His horse responded quickly to his guidance, but they just kept fanning out. It was useless.

"Hyah! Hyah!" Nick appeared in front of him, waving his hat and tightening the front part of the herd.

"Hyah! Hyah!" Heath was behind him, also waving his hat and getting the ones to Eugene's rear back into the herd.

Eugene followed their example, yelling, "Hyah! Hyah!" and waving his hat.

Gene had lost sense of how much time had passed. It both seemed like he'd been working to gain control forever and that perhaps no time had passed at all. But finally, finally, they forced the ranks to close and the herd was again tight.

Eugene was exhausted. And both his brothers were headed his way. He closed his eyes and dropped his shoulders. He'd made a horrible mess of things, but he couldn't take another scolding. Not now. He had no more coping power. He wasn't a cowboy, and he couldn't pretend to be one. He was just going to go ahead and go home. They'd do better without him.

The older men both arrived at almost the same time. "Good job, there, Gene," Heath said.

Nick nodded, pulling close to Gene, and reached over to pat his arm. "Yep. You stuck with it and got 'em back together."

Gene stared from one to the other. They were serious.

"Ain't easy to do that," Nick said. "Once they decide to spread out, it's hard to get 'em back together."

Gene was speechless.

"Keep up the good work." Heath turned and headed back to the drag position.

Nick grinned and waved, galloping back to wherever he'd been.

Gene stared after them. He'd actually done something right? It wasn't his fault they'd spread? He scanned his area of responsibility and moved closer to the herd. He'd be damned if they'd fan out again. Not on his watch.

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TUESDAY EVENING

By the time they'd made camp, exhaustion crawled over Gene. But he was happy. He'd worked hard, but he'd been successful. After the morning fiasco, the herd behaved, and the rest of the day had been uneventful. Still, every bone in his body ached, and his fingers had stuck to his right glove when he tried to remove it. He finally went to the water hole and put his hand in until the glove came off with just a little bit of skin. His knuckles were still raw and bloody, although not actually bleeding. He wished he had some ointment and bandages, but he didn't want his brothers to know so he wasn't going to ask where to get them.

Again, Nick and Heath were late returning as they made rounds of the cattle and the camp to make sure all was tied down for the night, so Eugene made good use of the time. He ate the potatoes and beans flavored with the last pieces of the pork, rinsed it down with strong coffee, and laid out his bedroll—and his brothers'. And then he left his brothers with a little bonus.

The older Barkleys finally came to camp and again told him he'd done a good job. Before the sky turned dark, Gene was asleep.

"Baby brother is exhausted," Heath said.

Nick grinned. "He's not used to working so hard."

"I'm turning in myself," Heath said. "But I have one more job first."

Nick raised his eyebrow.

Heath gave him his famous half-smile, then took a pair of small women's shoes from his saddle bag.

"Uh, is there something I should know?" Nick asked.

"Nope." Heath took the shoes and went into the woods. He put his hands in the shoes and "walked" from the woods on the far side of Gene's bedroll to his bedroll—and then "walked" back into the woods. Then he used a leafy twig to erase his own footprints and came out of the woods from behind his bedroll.

Nick shook his head. "You really like to pick on that kid."

"Hey, we want his first drive to be memorable, don't we?"

"At least he won't try to slug us for that."

Heath chuckled. "No. He'll probably want the entire camp to see it. He'll be proud of it."

Nick took a last drink of coffee and started to lie down. "Dammit!" he yelled.

"What?" Heath asked, tossing the dregs in his coffee mug.

"Did you do that?"

"No, but what didn't I do?"

"Put a bunch of rocks under my bedroll."

Heath grinned. "I woulda done it if I woulda thought of it, but I didn't." He lifted his bedroll. He also had a dozen rocks under his. "I think little brother did it."

"Then just throw them in the woods and pretend like it never happened."

Heath nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

It had been a long day and all the men were tired, so there weren't any poker games or music. Just early snores. Before long, Heath and Nick added their snorts and wheezes to the cacophony.

It had been a good day.

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