Intro
"Jesse, wake up, boy. We've got to get this herd movin' if we want to make it to the next water," the teen's father said, shaking him from his sleep. Rubbing his eyes, Jesse got out of his bedroll, dreading the day coming up. Looking around, the boy could see the rest of the men getting ready for the long ride ahead of them.
Standing four inches over six feet tall, the young man towered over most of the other men on the drive. Adding to this, his blonde hair and blue eyes only served to make him a handsome young man. Unfortunately the teen was too shy to talk to a girl, let alone ask one to one of the many socials they held on Saturday nights in Laredo.
"Sorry, pa, I had a rough night," Jesse told the older man. Grabbing his saddle, the young Texan walked over to his hobbled horse and began saddling the paint gelding. As he began tightening the cinches around the horse's broad middle, he noticed the cracking in the broad strap. Making a mental note to repair it when they reached their next camp, the young man put it out of his mind, wanting to concentrate on the day ahead of him. Walking back to the fire, Jesse grabbed a cup of coffee, the strong brew warming him inside. Once he had finished, he dumped out the grounds from the worn coffee pot on the blaze and packed it into his saddlebags, and then walked back to the fire and extinguished the already dying flames, kicking dirt over the embers.
James White was proud of his eighteen-year-old son. He had raised the boy and his sister by himself after the Cheyenne uprising in 1874. Now, six years later, the gangly boy was turning into a man, one that would leave large footprints across the land.
"Come on boy, we're wasting daylight," James told his son, ready to begin the new day.
"Right behind you, pa. Remind me to fix the cinch on my saddle tonight, okay?" Jesse asked, not waiting for his answer as he climbed into the saddle on the spirited horse. Quickly getting his other leg into the stirrup, Jesse waited for the gelding's bucking which had become a morning ritual. Riding out the small crow hops, the young man and horse came to terms and headed out to the herd, taking right flank to help keep the lowing cattle in a bunch as they headed for Dodge City, Kansas.
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Chapter 1 AMBUSH!
Jesse took a couple of swallows from his canteen before reaching into his saddle bags for a stick of jerky. Unless they were close to water, they wouldn't be stopping until later in the day. Looking around him, Jesse felt a bit of pride as he surveyed the herd. They had only lost a couple of the animals in the Canadian River in Oklahoma, and now they were only about one hundred miles from Dodge City. It had been a relatively quiet drive from the J-bar-W ranch and it didn't look like the rest of the drive would be any different.
Jesse let his mind wander as he rode, thinking about his sister waiting at home for their return. Josephine, or Jo for short, was his confidant, the only girl he had ever managed to talk to without the telltale blush that always seemed to accompany his stammering attempts to talk to the opposite sex. Even though they were siblings, they were nearly complete opposites. Where Jesse was tall with blonde hair, Jo was much shorter with curly red hair. Other than parentage, the only thing the pair shared was their clear blue eyes. Jesse allowed himself to think about his sister a few more minutes before he felt his penis beginning to grow. Disgusted with himself for the thoughts he was having about his own sister, Jesse shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts out of his brain of what Jo would look like in his bed.
"Wake up, we've got a few more miles to go before we stop," James told his son, startling him out of his reverie. When Jesse's face turned beet red, his father smiled knowingly and went back to the other flank of the herd. Jesse watched his father go, glad the older man couldn't read his mind. Clearing his thoughts, Jesse turned his attention back to the cattle, making sure none of them wandered away from the herd.
Paying close attention to the herd, Jesse didn't see the riders coming up from behind them. With bandanas pulled high over their faces, the gang took their time, letting the J-Bar-W cattle get closer to Dodge City before taking them. Satisfied with their progress, the outlaws began to make their way back into the rocks, to avoid being seen.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jesse caught a hint of movement, drawing his attention to the hills quickly enough to see the last outlaw crouch behind the rocks. Circling behind the herd, Jesse rode casually toward his father, wanting to tell him what he'd seen.
"Pa, I saw some men up in the rocks. They didn't act like they wanted to be seen," Jesse told his father, glancing back at the outlaws' hiding place. Seeing nobody there, Jesse thought he might have been mistaken, until he saw a head pop up for a moment.
"Yeah, I saw them a few miles back. They'll probably wait until we get a little closer to the railhead before doing anything. Keep your eyes open, though. You never can tell about rustlers," James answered, proud of his son for spotting them. With a nod, Jesse rode back to the other side, looking back once in awhile to make sure nobody was coming.
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"Boss, I think they saw us," the youngest rustler said, pointing to Jesse. With a grimace, Andy Harding took the spyglass from his subordinate. Seeing the boy glancing their way, he quickly covered it with his hand, not wanting the sun to reflect from the glass.
"Damn, we're going to have to go in sooner than we wanted. I can't believe we were seen by a damn kid," he muttered. Looking at the crew around him, Andy knew he shouldn't have been surprised. They were a motley bunch at best, but they were all he could find on such short notice. Overhearing some ranchers talking about the giant herd coming their way, he'd had to move quickly if he wanted to be able to steal them. With a disgusted glance at them, he headed toward his horse, wanting to grab the cattle before the boy had a chance to warn anyone else. Taking his pistol from his holster, the raven-haired outlaw checked the chambers, making sure there was a bullet in each of them. Satisfied, Andy pushed his horse down the hill, toward the cattle.
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Jesse glanced back at the rocks, only to see the rustlers hurrying toward them, dust flying from their horses' hooves. Hurrying back to his father, Jesse pointed toward the approaching outlaws, letting him know of the approaching bandits.
"Get back to the chuck wagon and tell Cookie. I don't want you involved in this," James told his only son.
"Not this time, Pa. You need me and I'm not going to go back there. I'm a man now and I intend to help, so you might as well save your breath," Jesse told the older man, taking his new Winchester out of the boot on the front of his saddle. As the teen rode back to warn the other men, James couldn't help the burst of pride he felt for his son. Taking his own rifle out of its gun boot, James made sure it was fully loaded, wanting to be ready for the descending robbers.
"Move em out, boys. We've got company," James yelled, warning the others of the incoming riders. Sensing the men's urgency, horses and cattle began running, trying to put distance between the rustlers and themselves. Hoping to find a place to make their stand, James kept looking around until he spotted some rocks ahead of them. Trying to push the herd toward the hiding place, James felt the wind from a bullet as it went by, followed quickly by the report from the outlaw's rifle. Realizing they wouldn't make it to safety, James turned around and began firing back.
"Let em have it. They won't get this herd without a fight," he exhorted his men. As he turned around to fire at another of the bandits, James felt the sting of a bullet as it drilled into his shoulder. As he began falling, he grabbed for the saddle horn, hoping to keep his seat. Pulling himself upright once more, he felt three more shells hitting him, knocking him out of his saddle.
"Hold on, Pa. I'm coming," Jesse yelled, riding toward his father. As he got closer, Jesse saw his father fall from the saddle, his horse narrowly missing the older man's head. Forgetting about the outlaws, the teen concentrated solely on his wounded parent.